This Heart of Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

flannel shirt. He picked up a couple of CDs by a Chicago jazz group he liked, along with a book about climbing Everest that he'd forgotten to stick in his suitcase. He thought about fixing himself something to eat since he wasn't in any hurry to get back on the road, but he'd lost his appetite along with his freedom.
    As he headed north into Wisconsin on I-94, he tried to remember the way he'd felt when he'd swum with the reef sharks only a little over a week ago, but he couldn't recapture the sensation. Rich athletes were a target for predatory women, and the notion that she might have gotten pregnant on purpose had occurred to him. But Molly didn't need the money. No, she'd been after kicks instead, and she hadn't bothered to consider the consequences.
    North of Sheboygan his cell phone rang. When he answered, he heard the voice of Charlotte Long, a woman who'd been his parents' friend for as long as he could remember. Like his parents, she'd spent her summers at his family's campground in northern Michigan, and she still returned there every June. He'd been out of contact with her until his mother's death.
    "Kevin, your Aunt Judith's attorney just called me again."
    "Terrific," he muttered. He remembered Charlotte talking with his father and mother after the daily service in the Tabernacle. Even in his earliest memories they'd all seemed ancient.
    At the time of his birth his parents' well-ordered lives had centered on the Grand Rapids church where his father had been pastor, the books they'd loved, and their scholarly hobbies. They had no other children, and they didn't have a clue what to do with a lively little boy they loved with all their hearts but didn't understand.
    Please try to sit still, sweetheart.
    How did you get so dirty?
    How did you get so sweaty?
    Not so fast.
    Not so loud.
    Not so fierce.
    Football, son? I believe my old tennis racket is stored in the attic. Let's try that instead?
    Even so, they'd attended his games because that's what good parents did in Grand Rapids. He still remembered looking up into the stands and catching sight of their anxious, mystified faces.
    They must have wondered how they hatched you.
    That's what Molly had said when he'd told her about them. She might be wrong about everything else, but she sure had been right about that.
    "He said you haven't called him." The note of accusation was strong in Charlotte's voice.
    "Who?"
    "Your Aunt Judith's attorney. Pay attention, Kevin. He wants to talk about the campground."
    Even though Kevin had known what Charlotte was going to say, his hands tightened on the steering wheel. Conversations about the Wind Lake Campground always made him tense, which was why he avoided them. It was the place where the gap between himself and his parents had been the most painful.
    The campground had been established by his greatgrandfather on some land he'd bartered for in remote northeastern Michigan during the late 1800s. From the beginning it had served as a summer gathering place for Methodist religious revivals. Since it was located on an inland lake instead of on the ocean, it never acquired the fame of campgrounds like Ocean Grove, New Jersey, or Oak Bluffs on Martha's Vineyard, but it had the same gingerbread cottages, as well as a central Tabernacle where services had been held.
    Growing up, Kevin had been forced to spend summers there as his father conducted daily services for the dwindling number of elderly people who came back each year. Kevin was always the only child.
    "You realize the campground is yours now that Judith has died," Charlotte said unnecessarily.
    "I don't want it."
    "Of course you do. It's been passed down through the Tucker family for over a hundred years. It's an institution, and you certainly don't want to be the one to end that."
    Oh, yes, he did. "Charlotte, the place is a sinkhole for money. With Aunt Judith dead, there's no one to look after it."
    "You're going to look after it. She's taken good care of everything. You