pessimistic predictions about the likelihood of finding even one of the quilts, she found herself painting a much rosier picture for her listeners. She managed to recast her disappointment in Boulder City as an opportunity for sightseeing they otherwise would have missed, and made pursuing the other Internet tips seem like an intriguing quest.
Cathy was not convinced. “Isn't that a lot of driving around for something you might not find?”
Andrew shrugged. “We like to travel, so we'd be on the road anyway.”
“Maybe now, but it's going to be winter soon. What if you don't find the quilts before then?”
“They've been missing a long time,” said Sylvia with a laugh. “I'm certainly not going to quit looking for them after only a few months.”
At that, Cathy seemed even less at ease, but she smiled when Andrew teased her and promised they wouldn't risk their lives in a blizzard or any other natural disaster for a quilt.
Sylvia set the pictures aside and admired the view of the canyon as they caught up on the news since their last visit. Kayla's inquisitive sweetness was thoroughly charming, and once Angela forgot her affectations of adolescent disinterest, she became as friendly and engaging as her sister. Sylvia suddenly realized that soon she would be related to these girls, and to their parents. For so many years she had mourned the passing of her family, but once she married Andrew, she would gain another. She would be a stepmother, of all things, and a stepgrandmother. She wondered if Kayla and Angela would call her Grandma or if they would feel that would dishonor their real grandmother's memory. Sylvia thought she would like to be called Grandma, and she wondered how she would go about suggesting it.
When Bob returned home from work, he greeted his father with a joke and a hearty embrace and had a hug and kiss for Sylvia, too. Andrew's son was a taller, sturdier version of his father, with the same warmth and gentleness, the same ready grin. He pulled up a chair, eager to hear about their trip, but before long Cathy reminded him that Andrew and Sylvia were probably hungry after their long drive. Bob promised them a home-cooked meal that would beat anything they could whip up in that motor home. “Would you believe he sold our childhood home to buy that thing?” he asked Sylvia. “All so he could wander the country and make us look bad.”
The girls laughed, and Andrew said, “Make who look bad?”
“Me and Amy, of course.” Bob crossed the patio to light the grill. “People think we won't take in our homeless father.”
“I'm not homeless,” Andrew called after him. “My home's in Pennsylvania.”
“But, Dad …” Cathy hesitated. “That's Sylvia's home, isn't it? And you can't really call your RV a home.”
Bob added, “What Cathy means is—well, we know we've been through this before, but it can't hurt to try again. You know we'd be honored if you'd consider making our house your home.”
Cathy leaned over to Sylvia and confided, “We hoped you would help us convince him.”
Speechless, Sylvia could only raise her eyebrows at Cathy. Before she could fumble for a response, Kayla squealed, “You mean Grandpa's moving in?”
Cathy reached over to settle her down. “We have to discuss it first.”
“There's nothing to discuss,” said Andrew.
Bob returned to the table and rested his hands on his wife's shoulders, his handsome face creased in concern. “Dad, you know you can't stay on the road forever, and when that time comes, you'll want to be with family.”
“Sylvia's home is my home,” declared Andrew, missing Sylvia's warning look, “and she's going to be my family, too, as much as you are, so you can stop this nonsense about moving in. I love you very much, but I already have a home and I like it just fine.”
Bob and Cathy stared at him.
Sylvia sighed and gazed heavenward, wishing Diane were present to break the shocked silence with a witticism.
Andrew shifted in
Cathy was not convinced. “Isn't that a lot of driving around for something you might not find?”
Andrew shrugged. “We like to travel, so we'd be on the road anyway.”
“Maybe now, but it's going to be winter soon. What if you don't find the quilts before then?”
“They've been missing a long time,” said Sylvia with a laugh. “I'm certainly not going to quit looking for them after only a few months.”
At that, Cathy seemed even less at ease, but she smiled when Andrew teased her and promised they wouldn't risk their lives in a blizzard or any other natural disaster for a quilt.
Sylvia set the pictures aside and admired the view of the canyon as they caught up on the news since their last visit. Kayla's inquisitive sweetness was thoroughly charming, and once Angela forgot her affectations of adolescent disinterest, she became as friendly and engaging as her sister. Sylvia suddenly realized that soon she would be related to these girls, and to their parents. For so many years she had mourned the passing of her family, but once she married Andrew, she would gain another. She would be a stepmother, of all things, and a stepgrandmother. She wondered if Kayla and Angela would call her Grandma or if they would feel that would dishonor their real grandmother's memory. Sylvia thought she would like to be called Grandma, and she wondered how she would go about suggesting it.
When Bob returned home from work, he greeted his father with a joke and a hearty embrace and had a hug and kiss for Sylvia, too. Andrew's son was a taller, sturdier version of his father, with the same warmth and gentleness, the same ready grin. He pulled up a chair, eager to hear about their trip, but before long Cathy reminded him that Andrew and Sylvia were probably hungry after their long drive. Bob promised them a home-cooked meal that would beat anything they could whip up in that motor home. “Would you believe he sold our childhood home to buy that thing?” he asked Sylvia. “All so he could wander the country and make us look bad.”
The girls laughed, and Andrew said, “Make who look bad?”
“Me and Amy, of course.” Bob crossed the patio to light the grill. “People think we won't take in our homeless father.”
“I'm not homeless,” Andrew called after him. “My home's in Pennsylvania.”
“But, Dad …” Cathy hesitated. “That's Sylvia's home, isn't it? And you can't really call your RV a home.”
Bob added, “What Cathy means is—well, we know we've been through this before, but it can't hurt to try again. You know we'd be honored if you'd consider making our house your home.”
Cathy leaned over to Sylvia and confided, “We hoped you would help us convince him.”
Speechless, Sylvia could only raise her eyebrows at Cathy. Before she could fumble for a response, Kayla squealed, “You mean Grandpa's moving in?”
Cathy reached over to settle her down. “We have to discuss it first.”
“There's nothing to discuss,” said Andrew.
Bob returned to the table and rested his hands on his wife's shoulders, his handsome face creased in concern. “Dad, you know you can't stay on the road forever, and when that time comes, you'll want to be with family.”
“Sylvia's home is my home,” declared Andrew, missing Sylvia's warning look, “and she's going to be my family, too, as much as you are, so you can stop this nonsense about moving in. I love you very much, but I already have a home and I like it just fine.”
Bob and Cathy stared at him.
Sylvia sighed and gazed heavenward, wishing Diane were present to break the shocked silence with a witticism.
Andrew shifted in
Similar Books
