I almost said no automatically.
Then I thought about the difference between independence and isolation.
“Yes,” I said. “But not everybody.”
“Who?”
“You.”
He breathed out.
“And Brenda?”
“Not yet.”
He did not argue.
After we hung up, I packed my suitcase again.
Not for a family weekend.
Not for strawberry shortcake or boardwalk photographs or the traditions everyone had come to expect.
I packed because there was an envelope in Cape May written in the hand of the man I had loved for forty-three years.
And for reasons I could not explain, I had begun to suspect Robert had understood something about our family before I did.
Something important enough to leave behind.
PART 3
Gregory arrived at my house shortly after seven the next morning.
He came alone.
That mattered to me.
Not because I disliked Jennifer. In truth, I had always admired her quiet steadiness. But I needed a few hours with my son before the rest of the family began arranging themselves around whatever came next.
