grandfather.â
âThank you, Lisa.â
Charlotte shoots a glance at Royce, as if to say, See? I shouldnât be out in a restaurant when the entire town must know today was Grandaddyâs funeral.
Royce shrugs as Lisa goes on, âI was so shocked when I saw the write-up about him in the Morning News . I thought he was going to live forever.â
âSo did we.â
Thereâs a moment of awkward silence. Then Lisa checks to see if a table is available and, luckily, one is.
As they settle in beside the large window facing River Street, Charlotte does her best not to pout about Royceâs upcoming trip.
She should be happy that Aimee, Royceâs nearly grown daughter, recently welcomed her father back into her life after a long estrangement.
And she is happy. She knows how tormented heâs been, bearing his daughterâs and ex-wifeâs blame for Theoâs drowning death at Achoco Island Beach. Royce was in complete agreement with them. He blamed himself, too.
What parent wouldnât?
He was the one who had insisted on taking his son on vacation in Georgia, just the two âmenâ in the family, while he scouted business locations in Savannah.
Neither Aimee nor Karen wanted to leave New Orleans. It was Royce who wanted it. Royce who convinced little Theo that it would be a good idea.
Royce was the one who was there with his son on the beach that day. The only one. He was in charge. He turned his back . . . if only for an instant.
Having been in his shoes, Charlotte is glad that her husband had finally made peace with his past. Really. She rejoiced with Royce when his only surviving child reached out at last.
Itâs just that he visited Aimee for Mardis Gras, for Easter in April, and again for her graduation, much to her fatherâs pride, in Louisiana just last month. She had been working in a salon since high school, but after a catastrophic hurricane she had been inspired to go to nursing school. Royce was beaming from the front row at her graduation, presumably alongside his ex-wife.
Is it really necessary for him to fly back down there again just to spend Aimeeâs twenty-fifth birthday with her?
Youâre not jealous, are you? Charlotte asks herself, not for the first time.
All right, maybe she is, a little. But mainly, sheâs worried.
What if something happens to Royce while heâs in New Orleans?
What if thereâs another terrible hurricane? Itâs the season . . . Did he even bother to check the Weather Channel?
Or what if heâs in an accident?
Life is a series of accidents . . . some good, some bad . . .
Thatâs what Josie, the counselor in the bereaved parents group, used to say whenever somebody grew despondent, asking why.
You canât look for reasons. Youâll drive yourself crazy. There are no reasons. Things just happen.
There were times when Charlotte found those words oddly comforting. Now she just finds them frightening.
What if something âjust happensâ to Royce?
Stop it, Charlotte. Heâll be fine. Why do you always have to do this to yourself?
Why, indeed?
Because I know what it is to be blindsided by an unimaginable loss.
Yes, so now what? Do you think that if you constantly dwell on the worst that can happen, it wonât?
Perhaps.
Perhaps sheâs doomed to spend the rest of her life haunted by anxious what-ifs.
No. You have to stop worrying, Charlotte. Stop.
But what if . . . ?
What if these arenât mere worries?
What if theyâre . . . premonitions ?
What if something really does happen to Royce?
No! Stop!
She has to let him go. This is the first birthday heâll be celebrating with his daughter since she was in her teens. The plane ticket was purchased long before Grandaddyâs death.
But I need you, too, Charlotte longs to protest. Especially now. Donât leave me alone in that house with a daughter who isnât speaking to me, an aunt who often
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