Long Ride Home

  “You were a nice kid. Just a clumsy one.”

  “I wasn’t! I was the best forward on the basketball team.”

  Jena rolled her eyes. “Low, there were fifty boys in our entire class.”

  “That doesn’t negate my contribution. And you didn’t even make the team, despite being the tallest girl in class.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t like basketball.”

  “The one thing I was good at, and you were completely unimpressed.”

  She smiled then and looked at him. “You were good at a lot of stuff.”

  Lowell knit his hands behind his head and leaned back with a grin. “Tell me. All the stuff I was good at. I missed the funeral.”

  “Cocky.” She paused, but he didn’t say another word, so she continued in a quiet voice. “You were funny. You could make anyone laugh. And kind. It’s like… even though you caused all sorts of trouble, you couldn’t stand to see a girl cry. Remember when we were all freshmen and Allie was still kind of chubby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And Joe and Alex were picking on her.”

  “Joe was an idiot. She was in love with him even back then.”

  Jena nodded. “She was. And you knew it. And they were picking on her that one day after the band concert and you were there—”

  “I didn’t say anything mean to her! She was your best friend.”

  “I know.” She reached over and put her hand on the center console like she used to when he was still living. She felt a prickling sensation, almost like static electricity, as his ghostly hand covered hers. “No, you did something stupid to Alex. I can’t remember…”

  “I think I gave him a wedgie.”

  She burst out laughing. “You did! That’s what it was. And he got so pissed, he turned and chased you behind the gym.”

  Lowell snorted. “I got a bloody nose for that. Alex was always such a tight-ass. I was hoping the wedgie would help.”

  “But…” Jena smiled again. “They stopped teasing Allie, didn’t they?”

  He winked at her. “You were never going to kiss me if my buddies kept teasing your best friend. See?” He tapped his temple. “Devious.”

  “Softie.”

  “Shhh.” A finger ghosted over her lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  Jena blinked back her sudden tears and continued. “And you were so smart, even though you got horrible grades.”

  “School was boring. What else was I good at?”

  “You never exaggerated. You always told the exact truth.”

  His eyebrows furrowed together. “You liked that? I always thought that pissed you off because I’d tell you if your clothes didn’t look good.”

  She squinted. “Well, that part was a little annoying, but otherwise, I liked it.”

  “Damn, I was a catch, Jen. Despite my inevitably short life span, you were a lucky woman.”

  She stifled a smile. “Did I tell you how much I loved your modesty? You were always so humble.”

  “Exceptionally humble. Incredibly modest. A saint really.”

  A low chuckle built in her chest. She muffled it, frightened to wake the boys. She turned onto a wider stretch of the twisting road and turned her head to glance over her shoulder. They were both still sleeping.

  “I was good at loving you,” Lowell said quietly. “I was always good at that.”

  It was no good. No matter how hard she blinked, Jena was going to cry.

  “No…” His silent body scooted closer and his fingers tried to wipe away the tears. “Don’t cry, baby. You’re gonna crash, Jena. Slow down. Don’t cry.”

  A quiet sob wrenched from her throat. “I don’t know how to do this without you, Low. Dammit, dammit, dammit!” She quickly blinked away the tears, lifting a hand to brush at her cheeks. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “That’s why you’re moving back. Because that’s where people know how to help. It won’t just be you anymore. So it’s okay if you don’t know. It’s okay.”

  He continued whispering soothing words to her. Sweet endearments and private jokes they’d shared through ten years of marriage. Three years of dating. A lifetime of growing up in the same small town. When she was calm, Lowell leaned back on his side of the car, watching her with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

  “I want you to fall in love again.”

  “Ha!” She uttered a quick, bitter laugh. “Right.”

  “You will. You’ll find love again. You’re a very loving person. And you deserve it.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to fall in love again. I loved you my whole life.”

  He grinned. “Not when I pushed you out of the tree house, you didn’t.”

  “It was an accident.”

  His voice was a teasing sing-song. “So you say.”

  “Mo-om,” Low Jr. whined from back seat, mumbling in his sleep. “Tell Dad he’s being too loud.”

  When her shocked eyes dropped from the rearview mirror, Lowell’s ghost was gone.

  Day Two

  Southern California Coast

  “Mama! Watch me!”

  Aaron jumped up in the waves, bounding over them as they rolled into the shore. Jena sat on the warm rocks and dug her toes into the sand. Nearby, Low listened to his music, staring out over the glistening water. They both watched Aaron play in the shallow waves, Jena poised to leap the moment he wandered too far.

  “There aren’t any beaches by the Springs. He’ll hate that.”

  Jena turned to look at Low when he spoke. He’d pulled one of his earbuds out and the faint sound of music whistled to her ears as the wind blew it toward her. “Yeah, that’ll be hard for him. I’ve never seen a kid like water as much as Bear does. But there’s the river. And there are beaches on the river where it twists around and forms these nice little inlets. Grandpa Max can teach both of you how to drive the boat. You’ll be river rats in no time.”

  A spark of interest lit the eight-year-old’s eyes. “Really? I can drive it?”

  Jena shrugged. “As long as it’s okay with him. I mean, don’t let the sheriff catch you or anything, but Grandpa will teach you. I learned how to drive a boat around your age.”

  “How far away is the river from the Springs?”

  “Just thirty miles or so.”

  Low didn’t say anything. He just stared out at his younger brother again and put the other earbud back in his ear. Soon, the only sounds that drifted to Jena’s ears on the deserted stretch of beach were the passing cars on the road behind them, the waves, and her youngest son’s shrieks of joy.

  She closed her eyes in a long blink, drifting as she sat in the sand and the Southern California sun shone on her. The air was damp and cool in the spring breeze and Aaron, tired out from the water and full of his picnic lunch, lay stretched out on his towel with his head resting against her stomach. Low was walking near the tide pools on the edge of the water, poking at the anemones with a long stick of driftwood.

  “Mama?”

  “What’s up, baby?”

  “Did you ever live in a really big city?”

  “Like Los Angeles?” Aaron had been fascinated by the idea of driving through the city with its miles and miles of buildings and houses all stuck together. It was more than his five-year-old brain could fathom.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, after we left the Springs, Daddy and I lived in Seattle. That’s not as big as L.A., but it’s pretty big.”

  “Why?”

  “Why did we live there?” She ruffled his hair and watched Low pick up a piece of wet kelp and lift it so it flew in the wind. “That’s where Mommy went to school to learn how to cook, and Daddy worked there.”

  “What did Daddy do in the city?”

  She smiled at the memories. “He went to school for a little bit, too; but he didn’t like it, so he sold cars.”

  “Cars?” He squinted his green eyes and looked up at her. Aaron was the spitting image of Lowell, from the sandy blond hair that would darken as the yea
rs passed, to the pale freckled skin. He was a McCann through and through. The stubborn Scots-Irish heritage showed not a hint of the Native American blood mixed in her own family tree. Low Jr. looked more like her, sharing her smooth olive skin, dark brown hair with hints of russet, and cheekbones that were the envy of her girlfriends. But both boys had those eyes, Lowell’s beautiful green eyes.

  “Yep, Daddy sold cars.”

  “But he didn’t sell cars at home. He sold houses.”

  “Daddy could sell anything to anyone. That’s just the way he was.”

  Aaron sighed and curled into her side. “That’s because everyone liked him, huh?”

  She blinked back the tears as the wind caught her eyes. “Yep,” she whispered. “Everyone loved Daddy.”

  They sat in silence for a few more minutes. Low had thrown the kelp out into the ocean and picked up another piece of driftwood. He drew something in the wet sand with one piece, stood back to look at it for a moment, then took the other piece of wood and violently scratched it out. He repeated the action over and over as he walked farther down the beach until a trail of broken marks followed behind him.

  “Mommy?”

  “What’s up, Aar-Bear?”

  “Why is Low so mad at me?”

  Jena pulled her baby up and set him in her lap, his long legs sticking out awkwardly as she tried to hold him. She laid her cheek on the small boy’s soft hair and watched as Low hurled both sticks into the ocean, where they splashed in the retreating waves. Then he stood, shoulders slumped, staring out over the murky water as an afternoon fog began to roll in.

  “He’s not really mad at you. He just misses home.”

  Aaron’s spindly arms reached around her and his fingers played with the feathers of hair behind her ear. Jena smiled. Her youngest had always twisted her hair when he needed comfort, even as a baby.

  “And Daddy. I think Low misses Daddy.”

  She blinked back tears and hugged him tighter. “I think you’re right, Bear. He misses Dad.”

  Aaron’s whisper was almost lost in the wind. “I miss Daddy, too.”

  Jena couldn’t speak as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Finally, she said, “We all do.”

  Hours later, both boys were packed into the car as she drove through the tall buildings of downtown Los Angeles. She could have bypassed the traffic and taken the route through the foothills, but she was in no hurry and didn’t want to spoil the excitement for Aaron. Low sat in back, patiently looking at everything Aaron pointed out in delight and astonishment. The skyscrapers. The Hollywood sign. Mile after mile of houses that quickly became repetitive, even to her youngest son.

  As Jena turned east, she realized that they were finally pointed in the direction that would take them back to Cambio Springs, the town she had grown up in. The town she had fled with Lowell, desperate fugitives of a fate they thought they could outrun. The town that would shelter her sons as they grew.

  “Hey, Mama?”

  “Yeah, Bear?”

  “Is it much farther?”

  She glanced at the sun as it set in her rearview mirror. “Not long now. Go to sleep, Aaron. When you wake up, we’ll be home.”

  Night Three

  Mojave Desert

  This time, when Jena cracked her window open to let in the night air, she was hit by the scent of creosote bushes that had just taken rain. The distinctive smell filled the car as she drove down the deserted highway. They had passed the lights of the city and the stars shone overhead as a full moon hung in the desert sky. Jena noticed that her foot had pressed down on the accelerator as she took deep breaths of the damp creosote.

  “You always loved that smell.” Lowell watched her with sad eyes as the desert whipped past.

  She shrugged. “It’s nice enough.”

  “You loved it. You love it.”

  Jena whispered, “I do.”

  “Just because I didn’t like it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t.”

  “Low—”

  “It’s okay to be excited, Jen.” He smiled, even as his voice grew hoarse. “You’re excited to be back. I can tell.”

  She shook her head. “It’s just some kind of instinct. You know that.”

  “It’s part of you. It’s a good part of you.” He glanced over his shoulder where the boys snored quietly, slumped together as Aaron lay under his older brother’s arm. “It’ll be a part of them, too.”

  Jena could feel the tears start to well in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  He ignored her, staring at the boys before he looked back at her. “Hey, baby, want to know a secret?”

  She nodded with a jerk as the tears gathered. “Yeah. Sure. What’s the secret? God give you the mysteries of the universe while I was driving today? Winning Lotto numbers? The recipe for Grandma Crowe’s pie crust?”

  He chuckled low in his throat and Jena sensed him draw nearer. Her skin prickled in awareness and she could have sworn that, just for a moment, she could feel his warm breath blow across her cheek.

  “The secret is…” His voice dropped even lower, until he was whispering into her ear. “I was only borrowing you for a little while.”

  The sob ripped from her throat just as she passed over the last rise before the lights of the Springs glittered in the distance. A sign on the side of the road read “Cambio Springs Turnoff: 5 miles.” Jena pulled the car over to the side of the road, put it in park and pushed the door open, stumbling into the night. Lowell’s ghost met her outside, leaning his ever-more-hazy body against the side of the car.

  “Enough!” She shook her head and dashed the tears from her eyes. “That’s it. I’m not going any farther. Get back in the car, Low.”

  “Calm down, Jena. You need to keep driving.”

  She paced the side of the road, her feet stirring up red dust as the creosote filled the air. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No!” she yelled. “You—you were not borrowing me! I was yours. We belonged together. We were supposed to beat it. Why did you let go?”

  He moved toward her with his hands raised. “We did belong together. For as long as we had. But it’s time—”

  “It was not time!” Her sobs were carried away in the desert wind as she pulled at her hair in frustration. “You’re going to disappear as soon as I drive into that town, so I’m turning around. I’m going home!” She walked back to the car, reaching to pull open the door and get in, but suddenly his hand stopped her.

  Jena gasped and looked down to the hand that had been her husband’s. Her breath caught. It was as clear and substantial as the day he first held it when they were ten years old. Solid. Strong. When she halted, Lowell lifted his hand and brushed across her damp cheek in one last caress.

  “You’re almost home.” Whatever energy had animated his spirit seemed to drain as she faced him. Jena could see the star-lit night shining through his sandy hair.

  “Low…”

  “That”— he pointed toward the lights—“is your home. Always has been. I was borrowing you for a little bit, but this has always been your home.”

  She whispered, “It was our home.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You were my home. The only home I needed to live for as long as I could. But you…” She saw him swallow hard. “You need more. You need this place.”

  She shook her head as he continued, “It’s okay to go back. It’s okay to be glad. To be relieved. You’ve been hiding for so long, but now…” He sighed and the wind blew, making the outline of him waver before he eyes. “You’ll drink from the springs. And you’ll spread your wings, and you’ll be strong again.”

  “Lowell…” She reached out, but her hand passed through him. “Please don’t—”

  “You’ll heal, Jena. I want that for you. I want you to be strong.” Lowell cast longing eyes toward the darkened car where his sons still slept. “I want that for them. This is where they belong, too.”

  “You’re leaving me,” she whispered. “You’re leaving me,
aren’t you?”

  Her husband’s ghost smiled and nodded toward the car. Pulled by some ancient instinct, Jena walked over, opened the door and got in. The low hum of the engine greeted her, along with her children’s quiet snores as she pulled the car back onto the road.

  She drove slowly for a few miles. No passing car marred the peace of their journey. Jena put her hand on the center console and Lowell’s ghostly hand hovered over it as she made the left turn off the highway. Her eyes were dry when she spotted the blue sign.

  “Welcome to Cambio Springs.”

  She curled her fingers, as if to hold onto the last, insubstantial piece of him. For a moment, Lowell’s green eyes lifted to hers and he smiled.

  Jena opened her mouth to protest helplessly. “Don’t…”

  He winked at her one final time, then disappeared, and Jena heard his voice whisper in her ear, “Welcome home, Jena Crowe.”

  She blinked back tears as she drove through the silent streets. At the edge of town, she passed The Cave, the Campbell’s bar, which had been serving beer and guarding the gates of Cambio Springs for as long as anyone could remember. She passed Ollie’s low ranch house a half mile past, then a few more dark houses. Then a few closer together. She passed the small library where Allie volunteered. City Hall. Ted’s clinic. McCann’s farm supply. Then, at the signal, she turned right and drove past The Blackbird Diner. It looked like her dad had repainted the sign since the last time they’d visited.

  As she slowed down on the next block, she could see the lights on the front porch of her parent’s house glowing. A thin figure rose from the porch swing and the door began to open. Jena heard the boys stir as she pulled into her parents’ driveway.

  “Mama,” Low mumbled. “We home?”

  Jena blinked back tears when she saw her father’s broad figure emerge from the house. His hair was black as midnight and his eyes as dark as hers. Her mother came to stand beside him, her neck craning to look for the boys in the backseat as Jena brought the car to a stop and put it in park. “Yeah, Low. We’re home.”