After a while, she stops walking. Sits on the track, feeling the hot metal against the backs of her thighs through the thin cover-up. Opens her phone and dials memory #2.

“Janie—what’s going on? Everything all right?”

Janie gently waves a bumblebee away. “Hi. Yeah. I’m just doing a lot of thinking. About what we talked about . . . you know? Lots of time to think on vacation,” she says, and laughs nervously.

“And?”

“And . . . you’re sure you are okay with whatever I decide?”

“Of course. You know that. Did you make up your mind, then?

“Not really. I’m—I’m still deciding.”

“Have you talked to Cabel about it?”

Janie winces. “No. Not yet.”

“Well, I don’t blame you for wanting—and needing—to consider all of your options.”

Janie’s throat grows tight. “Thank you, sir.”

“You know the drill. Call me anytime. Let me know what you choose.”

“I will.” Janie closes the phone and stares at it.

There’s nothing more to say.

On the way back, she picks up a train-flattened penny from the track and wonders if one of the vacationers down the hill placed it there. Wonders if some excited little kid will come back for it. She sets it on the railroad tie so whoever it is will be sure to see it. Walks slowly back to the cabin to drop off her stuff. And then it’s back outside, under the tree.

She watches Cabe sleep. Later, she dozes too, whenever she can get a chance while she wearily dodges Cabel’s dreams, and the dreams of a sleeping child somewhere, probably in the cabin next door.

There is no getting away from it all here. Or anywhere.

No escape for her.

5:49 p.m.

A whistle blasts and the train rushes past up at the top of the hill. Everyone who was sleeping awakes.

“Another busy day at the lake,” Cabel murmurs. “My stomach’s growling.” He rolls over on the blanket. Janie can’t resist. She snuggles up to his warm body.

“I can hear it,” she says. “And I smell the charcoal grill.”

“We should really get up now.”

“I know.”

They remain still, Janie’s head on Cabel’s chest, a nice breeze coming off the lake. She squinches her eyes shut and holds him, takes in the scent of him, feels the warmth of his chest on her cheek. Loves him.

Breaks a little more inside.

6:25 p.m.

Janie hears the click of the cabin’s screen door and sits up guiltily as Megan walks over to them. “I’m sorry, Megan—we should be helping you get dinner.”

“Nah,” Megan grins. “You needed a nap after all that skiing and drowning. But your cell phone is beeping inside the cabin. I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Thanks. I’ll check it.”

Cabel sits up too. “Everything okay? Where’s Charlie, anyway?”

“In town picking up some groceries. It’s all good. Relax,” Megan says. “Seriously. It’s been a tough time for you guys—you need the rest.”

Obediently, Cabel sinks back down on the blanket as Janie gets to her feet. “Be right back,” she says. “It better not be Captain with an assignment or I’m quitting.”

Cabel laughs. “You wouldn’t.”

6:29 p.m.

Voicemails.

From Carrie. Five of them.

And they’re bad.

Janie listens, incredulous. Listens again, stunned.

“Hey, Janers, dammit, where are you? Call me.” Click.

“Janie, seriously. There’s something wrong with your mom. Call me.” Click.

“Janie, seriously! Your mom is stumbling around your front yard yelling for you. Didn’t you tell her you were going to Fremont? She’s totally drunk, Janie—she’s wailing and—oh, shit. She’s in the road.” Click.

“Hey. I’m taking your mom to County Hospital. If she blows in Ethel, you are so dead. Call me. Jesus. Also? Shit. My phone battery is dying, so maybe try the hospital or something . . . don’t know what to tell you. I’ll try you again when I have a chance.” Click.

“Oh, my God.” Janie stares at her phone, not really seeing it. Then she calls Carrie.

Gets Carrie’s voice mail. “Carrie! What happened? Call me. I’ve got my phone now. I’m so sorry. I was—taking a nap.” It sounds hollow. Careless. Frivolous, even, when Janie says it aloud. What was I thinking, leaving my mother alone for a week? “God. Just call me.”

Janie stands there, all the breath being sucked out of her, replaced by fear. What if something’s really wrong?

And then anger.

I will never have a life as long as that woman is alive, she thinks.

Squeezes her eyes shut and takes it back, immediately.

Can’t believe she would be such a horrible person, think such a horrible thing.

Charlie walks into the tiny cabin kitchen with a brown bag of groceries and stops short when he sees the look on Janie’s face. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Janie blinks, unsure. “No, I don’t think so,” she says quietly. “I think . . . I think I have to go.”

Charlie sets the groceries down hard on the counter. “Cabe!” he shouts through the screen door. “Come ’ere.”

Janie sets her phone down and pulls her suitcase from the wardrobe. Starts throwing her clothes in her suitcase. She looks at her disheveled self in the mirror and rakes her fingers through her dark blond tangles. “Oh, my God,” she says to herself. “What the hell is wrong with my mother?”