Molly rushes to hand the little girl off to her mother, then leaps out of the pool, swift as a trained dolphin. She dabs her hand on a towel, then snatches up the phone. At the same moment, she sees me coming toward her.

Her face lights up with a glow of pure joy, a clear echo of the look she used to give me when she was tiny and I’d say, “Let’s go for a swim, Moll.”

She’s lighting up for someone else now. She acknowledges me with a wave, then says into the phone, “Omigod. Omigod, really? I don’t believe you!” She is jumping up and down now, a young adult no longer but a child bouncing with excitement. “Where?” she asks, and then, “Now?”

The settled feeling that had enveloped me only moments ago now swirls away. I set my towel on the chaise next to Molly’s, wondering what’s got her so excited. Here I thought she was uncoupling herself from Travis, their calls growing fewer and shorter as our journey progressed. Now she is as excited as she was when he asked her to prom.

Watching her, listening to the sparkle in her voice, I realize that I miss this Molly. Throughout this journey, she has been pleasant but guarded. Even soaring over Lake Ontario or watching line dancers at a honky tonk, she has been entertained, but not exuberant. Not until now.

What’s he saying to her that causes the air to slip under her feet and lift her up?

And then with a laugh of joy, she drops the phone onto the table. “I don’t believe it,” she keeps saying and then she scoops up her flip-flops and runs. I am slow, not really hooked into this reality, not really believing it, either.

In slow motion I stand up and walk to the chainlink safety fence that surrounds the pool. Her bikini flashing in the sunlight, Molly races across the parking lot, shooting straight up in the air when the asphalt burns her feet, then hopping up and down as she throws her flip-flops to the ground and jiggles into them. Then she resumes running but she doesn’t have to go much farther, just across to the porte cochere, straight and true as an arrow shot from a bow, into Travis’s waiting arms.

Twelve

Travis catches her in his embrace, and my mind races with panic. What the hell is this kid doing, stalking her across the country?

With an effort of will, I restrain myself. For now. He’s come all this way. The least I can do is give them a little privacy.

I offer Travis a greeting that is brief but not unkind. “I’m going for a swim,” I tell Molly. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Yes, a swim in the pool. I need to cool off, calm down, clear my head. I don’t want to go off halfcocked, say things in haste, jump to conclusions.