Seven hours turned into almost ten, thanks to the Boston traffic Andrew had predicted, Kate and Buttons needing several pee breaks, stops for lunch and dinner (for Andrew and the dog), and getting lost for a spell down winding one-lane roads in Maine. Andrew woke her up when they passed through the small town of Bridge Mills, but by the time she was awake enough to take in the scenery, the shank of the town was behind them.

“That was small,” she said, peering at the fading row of shops in the side view mirror.

“Hey, it was four whole blocks. Looked like something out of a movie from the fifties. You missed the drive-in.”

“A drive-in? They still have those? Was it even operational?”

“Oh yeah. It looks like they have oldies Wednesdays, though not as old as you like them. We’re talking Caddyshack and Meatballs. Guess someone’s a Bill Murray fan.”

“Can we go?”

He stroked her hair. “As many times as you want.”

She was glad he didn’t say as many times as you can, which was the truth of it all. Right now, she wanted to live in a fantasy where everything was possible.

It was still light when they spotted the sign for Highland Road a split-second before passing it by for the fourth time.

“All righty, we now know our little house is so far off the grid, even Google can’t find it,” Andrew said.

“I don’t have any bars on my phone.”

“I’m not surprised.”

They passed a roadside mailbox shaped like a birdhouse. Andrew consulted the chicken scrawl of directions he’d made. “I think this is it.” The narrow dirt and gravel road meandered through a thick umbrella of trees, plunging them into near-total darkness. Kate rolled down the window, took a long, deep breath, and started coughing.

“Smells great,” she said.

Andrew laughed. “You’ve been cooped up so long, you can’t handle nature.”

The aroma of pine cones, old leaves, and the mineral tang of the nearby lake was intoxicating. She hung her arm out of the window. It was a lot colder up here, or maybe that was just because they were under such dense shade. Buttons twanged the bars of his crate with his tail. He was up and looking out the window with her.

“Look at all that territory you get to mark, But-But,” she said.

He gave a few quick, happy yips.

“You can pee and poop anywhere you like, but you’ll still need your leash, buddy,” she said, slipping her fingers into the crate to touch his wet nose.

“A leash? He’ll be fine,” Andrew said.

“With my luck, he’ll get eaten by a bear. He’s a city dog. He has no country sense.”

“That makes three of us.”