Grandma is asleep in the backseat, her head resting on a pillow against the door. She has slept soundly most of the night, not even waking up the few times when we made pit stops. A few times I’d heard her sniffle like her heart was breaking, and once she’d let out a sob before calming herself down. She’d lost her oldest daughter. No matter what, kids weren’t supposed to die before their parents, she’d said. No matter how old they were.
“How old was Cathy?” Grady asks quietly as if he can read my mind. And I know he’s making up questions to keep me talking and help me stay awake, but I don’t care. It’s sweet.
“She is—was—four years older than my dad, and he’s sixty-two.”
“How many kids did she have?”
“Just one. She always wanted more but couldn’t find a man she liked long enough to make them.” I let out a snort. That’s how Aunt Cathy told the story, anyway.
I see the sign for the town where Aunt Cathy lived, and take the exit. I had already programmed the map app to take me the rest of the way, so I hand my phone to Grady. “Hit the button on the map app, will you? I can’t remember how to get there.”
“What’s your password?”
I bite my lip. “Here.” I hold out my hand. “I’ll do it.”
“Just tell me what it is, Clifford,” he replies almost caustically.
“Your birthday,” I say quietly.
He’s startled for a moment, but then he enters the date of his birthday. “Is that new?” he asks.
“Is what new?” I glance over at him.
“Your password?”
I’m quiet, wondering if I should tell him. “No,” I reply finally, “it’s not new.”
“Huh,” he says. He hits the correct button and the app starts to direct me where to go.
“Grandma,” I call out, looking in the rearview mirror.
“Are we there yet?” Grandma asks as she lifts her head and blinks her eyes.
“Almost.” I look at her again. “Put your lipstick on and fix your hair,” I say. “You’re about to see a whole bunch of people you haven’t seen in a while.”
Grandma starts to dig through her purse for a comb. She pulls it out, and I tilt the rearview mirror toward her. She uses it to primp for a moment, and then I pull onto the street where Aunt Cathy’s house is. I see my dad sitting next to my uncle Rick on the front steps. Rick is Aunt Cathy’s last—and best, according to her—husband.
“Your dad’s already here,” Grady observes quietly.
“He flew down like a normal person,” I reply.
Grady laughs as Grandma pipes up from the back seat: “If God had wanted us to fly, he’d have given us wings.”
“He did, Grandma,” I respond, my exhaustion making me cranky. “They’re called airplanes.”
She lets out a rude noise that makes Grady smile.
“We’re dropping you off, and then we’re going to a hotel to get some sleep, Grandma,” I warn her, as Dad comes over to the car to help her out. She hugs him as we all get out. I stretch next to the car, and then Dad wraps me up in his arms. “Mom here?” I ask him.
“She’s inside, trying to keep the cousins from stealing Cathy’s stuff.”
“I’m going to go and say hello, and then I’m going to find a hotel and take a nap.”
“You drove all night?” Dad glances at his watch. “You made good time.”
“I had help,” I say as Grady walks up next to me.
Dad sticks out his hand. “Thanks, Grady,” he says. “I owe you one. You put up with Evie all the way here without you two trying to kill one another?”