The Great Escape

Even before she heard the patrician voice of James Litchfield, she knew exactly what the former vice president of the United States would say. “Lucille, I do not approve of what you’re doing. I don’t approve at all.”

“That’s a surprise.”

“You know I detest sarcasm.”

She tugged on the orange dread dangling near her ear. “Has it been awful?”

“It hasn’t been pleasant, but Mat seems to have the press under control.” His tone grew even colder. “And I suppose you’re calling me because you want me to somehow aid and abet.”

“I’ll bet you would if I asked you to.” Her eyes stung.

“You are so much like your mother.”

He didn’t say it as if it were a compliment, but she thanked him anyway. And then, before he could light into her, she pointed out what they both knew. “Running away made Nealy a better person. I’m sure it’ll do the same for me.”

“You’re sure of no such thing,” he snapped. “You simply don’t know what to do next, and you don’t want to face the consequences of your actions.”

“That, too.” She said to him what she hadn’t been able to say to her parents. “I dumped the perfect man, and I’m not even sure why.”

“I’m certain you had your reasons, but I wish you’d done it before I was forced to fly to Texas. You know how I detest that state.”

“Only because you couldn’t carry it. The election was almost thirty years ago. Maybe you should get over it?”

He harrumphed around, then said, “How long do you intend for this vacation of yours to last?”

“I don’t know. A week? Maybe more.”

“And I’m sure you won’t tell me where you are.”

“If I told you, you might be forced to lie about it. Not that you aren’t really good at it, but why put an old man in that position?”

“You are the most disrespectful child.”

She smiled. “I know. I love you, too, Gramps.” He hated it when she called him Gramps, but it was payback for that “Lucille.” “I’m staying at a friend’s house on an island in the Great Lakes,” she said. “But then you probably already know that.” If he didn’t, he would soon, since she’d paid for that rental car with her credit card, and her loving parents were almost certainly keeping track.

“Exactly what is the purpose of this call?”

“To tell you I’m … I’m sorry I disappointed you. And to ask you to be nice to Mom. This is hard on her.”

“I do not need reminders from my granddaughter about how to behave with my daughter.”

“Not exactly true.”

That precipitated a bristling lecture about respect, integrity, and the responsibility of those to whom much is given. Instead of listening, she found herself replaying a conversation she’d had with her mother a few months ago.

“You know I’m jealous of your relationship with him,” Nealy had said.

Lucy had looked up from the wedge of coconut custard pie they’d been sharing at their favorite Georgetown restaurant. “He was an awful father to you.”

“And he’s hardly the world’s best grandfather. Except to you.”

It was true. Lucy’s sibs avoided him at all costs, but he and Lucy had hit it off from the beginning, even though she’d been mouthy and rude when they’d first met. Maybe because of it. “He loves me,” she’d said. “And he loves you, too.”

“I know he does,” Nealy replied. “But I will never, ever have as comfortable a relationship with him as you do.”

“Do you really mind so much?”

She remembered Nealy’s smile. “No. I don’t mind at all. The old curmudgeon needs you as much as you need him.”

Lucy still wasn’t quite sure what she’d meant by that.

When her grandfather finally concluded his lecture, she told him she loved him, reminded him to eat right, and asked him not to growl so much at Tracy.

He told her to tend to her own business.

After she disconnected, she tossed her coffee dregs into the weeds and got up. But just as she started to turn back to the house, she heard an odd sound. A human sound. The sound someone makes when they trip and try to catch themselves. It came from the grove of trees that marked the north edge of the lawn where the woods began. As she turned to look, she caught the flash of an electric-yellow T-shirt disappearing into the pines.

Toby had been spying on her.

Chapter Seven

TOBY RACED THROUGH THE TREES, cutting to the left around the big stump, darting past the giant boulder, hurling himself over the trunk of the red oak that had come down in a storm last summer. Finally he reached the path that led to the cottage. Even though he was smaller than a lot of the other guys in his grade, he could run faster than any of them. Gram said his dad had been a fast runner, too.