He’s with us again at dinner. Anne is more civil toward him now, though I don’t know whether she’s getting used to him or simply knows that once I leave he won’t be around. I’ve already transferred Joy’s things back to our house and put my own in the car, all but my camera. It’s still in action, capturing the kids watering the new plants on the bluff, Margo modeling her own red Bay Bluff hoodie, and Anne baking humongous peanut butter cookies.

We’re having Thai tonight. Bill and Dan pick it up, leaving Jack with us at the house, for which I’m grateful. I’m acutely aware that the clock is ticking, that even aside from leaving Jack, I’m leaving Joy overnight for the first time in her life. I’m also aware that by the time I return, Margo and her family will be gone, to which end she keeps shooting me soulful looks.

Totally unfazed, Joy is with Jeff, doing a jigsaw puzzle in the sunroom. She feels no qualms about my leaving, is actually excited.

Then there’s Jack. He doesn’t make a show of checking his watch, but the few times he does, his eyes turn a vulnerable gray. In them, I read fear of abandonment, and I’m hopelessly torn. It takes a concerted effort to think of my life in New York.

I’m doing that a short time later with something akin to desperation. Leaving Joy is easy; we’ll be in touch the whole time, and she does need this separation. What is it they say, a mother raises her children to let them go? Besides, she’s with family.

Jack is alone.

My eyes are glued to the rearview as I drive forward, etching an image on my brain that is as indelible as one my camera might make. He stands apart from the others, as if my departure breaks his link with my family. Tall, singular, and apart, he is helplessness personified. I feel the same watching him. How easy it would be to step on the brake and put the car in reverse? Hell, I wouldn’t even have to back up. If I stopped, he would run forward, I know he would.

But my life waits, my life waits, my life waits. So, I tip down over the crest of the road, erase that heart-rending sight, and drive on.