make.”
Her eyes were still dark and clear, and they sparkled as she spoke. “That’s what family does. We’re proud of you, Robert.”
I took her hand in mine. Her skin was smooth and warm. “How have you been?” I asked.
“Same old. Every day a step closer to the grave-yard.” A wry smile lit her lips. “Old age ain’t for sissies.”
“Don’t talk that way. You’re not old,” I said.
“Oh yes, I am, and proud of it. So how are my girls?”
“They’re doing all right. Carson had her first violin recital last week.”
“Yes. Allyson sent me pictures. She’s growing like a weed. How is my darling Allyson doing with you being gone?”
“It’s hard on her.”
“And you?”
“It’s hard on me too. It’s lonely.”
“How’s your health?”
I felt as if I should be asking her. “I’m tired, but holding up.”
“Well, don’t overdo it.” Her warm smile turned suddenly solemn. “We are all just so proud of you. But you be careful out there, Robert. There are a lot of Jezebels in this world. That family of yours is the most precious thing you have.”
“That’s for sure.”
“That Allyson is one in a million. When she called, we talked about her coming out in the next few weeks. You don’t mind, do you? You know I can’t go too long without seeing my girl.”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
Denise looked around. “Well, I’ve taken too much of your time. Your fans are getting restless. We better go before we cause a riot.”
She introduced me to her friends and I shook their hands, though they also asked for hugs, which I obliged. Then I signed all their books. We took a snapshot with the four of us and hugged again. Then Denise said, “We brought you these.” She handed me a paper plate covered in foil. “Believe it or not they’re still warm—my chocolate chip and pecan cookies. I know how you love them.”
“You’re an angel,” I said.
“Almost,” she replied. “You take care and we’ll see you again soon.”
“You drive carefully, now.”
“We will. Tell my Ally I’ll be waiting to see her.”
I went back to my table. As Denise hobbled off, I looked at her once more, and I had the sudden thought that I might never see her again. I quickly pushed the thought from my mind and started signing books.
Chapter 25
I found my anticipation of Wednesday afternoon growing, the day I received the first news from the lists. Camille caught me on my cell phone just minutes after I had arrived in Boise, Idaho. I was still in the airport terminal and was following my escort to baggage claim.
“ A Perfect Day climbed to number seven. You are cooking with gas, man.”
“I’m working out here.”
“It shows. You’re in Idaho today?”
“Yep. My own private Idaho. Hold on, here’s my bag.”
I pulled my suitcase from the carousel then put the phone back to my ear.
“Where were we?” I asked.
“Idaho. Eat a potato for me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Idaho is the spud capitol of the America. You didn’t know that?”
“Nope. Didn’t know that.”
“Man, I’m buying you an almanac. Go sign, or whatever it is that you do.”
My escort took me directly to my hotel. It wasn’t the Ritz Carlton, or even a Marriott, but it was convenient to the bookstore where I would be signing and it had a gym and a hot tub and the bed was good. Before my signing, I ate dinner at a nearby Applebee’s with my escort, an elderly woman with hair a peculiar shade of lavender.
“Do you do much of this?” I asked.
“Every few months or so. We don’t get that many national authors through Boise. The local ones don’t need me.”
“How’s this bookstore I’m signing at?”
“You’ll like it. It’s a Borders superstore.”
We finished eating, and as we pulled into the bookstore parking lot, my escort said, “The lot’s full. That’s a good sign.”
I put on my jacket and we walked inside. Near the front of the store there was a small table draped
Her eyes were still dark and clear, and they sparkled as she spoke. “That’s what family does. We’re proud of you, Robert.”
I took her hand in mine. Her skin was smooth and warm. “How have you been?” I asked.
“Same old. Every day a step closer to the grave-yard.” A wry smile lit her lips. “Old age ain’t for sissies.”
“Don’t talk that way. You’re not old,” I said.
“Oh yes, I am, and proud of it. So how are my girls?”
“They’re doing all right. Carson had her first violin recital last week.”
“Yes. Allyson sent me pictures. She’s growing like a weed. How is my darling Allyson doing with you being gone?”
“It’s hard on her.”
“And you?”
“It’s hard on me too. It’s lonely.”
“How’s your health?”
I felt as if I should be asking her. “I’m tired, but holding up.”
“Well, don’t overdo it.” Her warm smile turned suddenly solemn. “We are all just so proud of you. But you be careful out there, Robert. There are a lot of Jezebels in this world. That family of yours is the most precious thing you have.”
“That’s for sure.”
“That Allyson is one in a million. When she called, we talked about her coming out in the next few weeks. You don’t mind, do you? You know I can’t go too long without seeing my girl.”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
Denise looked around. “Well, I’ve taken too much of your time. Your fans are getting restless. We better go before we cause a riot.”
She introduced me to her friends and I shook their hands, though they also asked for hugs, which I obliged. Then I signed all their books. We took a snapshot with the four of us and hugged again. Then Denise said, “We brought you these.” She handed me a paper plate covered in foil. “Believe it or not they’re still warm—my chocolate chip and pecan cookies. I know how you love them.”
“You’re an angel,” I said.
“Almost,” she replied. “You take care and we’ll see you again soon.”
“You drive carefully, now.”
“We will. Tell my Ally I’ll be waiting to see her.”
I went back to my table. As Denise hobbled off, I looked at her once more, and I had the sudden thought that I might never see her again. I quickly pushed the thought from my mind and started signing books.
Chapter 25
I found my anticipation of Wednesday afternoon growing, the day I received the first news from the lists. Camille caught me on my cell phone just minutes after I had arrived in Boise, Idaho. I was still in the airport terminal and was following my escort to baggage claim.
“ A Perfect Day climbed to number seven. You are cooking with gas, man.”
“I’m working out here.”
“It shows. You’re in Idaho today?”
“Yep. My own private Idaho. Hold on, here’s my bag.”
I pulled my suitcase from the carousel then put the phone back to my ear.
“Where were we?” I asked.
“Idaho. Eat a potato for me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Idaho is the spud capitol of the America. You didn’t know that?”
“Nope. Didn’t know that.”
“Man, I’m buying you an almanac. Go sign, or whatever it is that you do.”
My escort took me directly to my hotel. It wasn’t the Ritz Carlton, or even a Marriott, but it was convenient to the bookstore where I would be signing and it had a gym and a hot tub and the bed was good. Before my signing, I ate dinner at a nearby Applebee’s with my escort, an elderly woman with hair a peculiar shade of lavender.
“Do you do much of this?” I asked.
“Every few months or so. We don’t get that many national authors through Boise. The local ones don’t need me.”
“How’s this bookstore I’m signing at?”
“You’ll like it. It’s a Borders superstore.”
We finished eating, and as we pulled into the bookstore parking lot, my escort said, “The lot’s full. That’s a good sign.”
I put on my jacket and we walked inside. Near the front of the store there was a small table draped
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