A moment later, he felt Trish’s hand on his arm. “Why don’t we go to Sedona for the day, get away from all this? We’re both letting it affect us far too much.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

“It would do us good to get away.”

“Yeah. We can go up Oak Creek Canyon to Flagstaff. They have a real post office there. Maybe I can talk to—”

“No,” she said firmly. “I mean, get away from this. All this craziness. It seems like the mail’s the only thing we think about or talk about anymore. Let’s just take Billy and go to Sedona and have a nice day’s vacation, like we used to. We’ll eat, shop, and be typical tourists. How does that sound?”

“It sounds good,” he admitted.

“Are you willing to give it a try?”

He nodded.

“So, do you want to eat inside or on the porch?”

“On the porch.”

She headed back toward the open door. “Food’s on its way.”

They left early the next morning, stopping first by the bakery for donuts, coffee, and chocolate milk. Trish was right, Doug thought as he drove out of town. Maybe they needed a short vacation, needed to get away in order to gain some perspective. The trees sailed by as he kept pace with the speed limit. Already he felt easier, happier, more relaxed than he had in weeks. It was as if the mantle of responsibility he had placed upon himself had been left behind at the town limits. Although he knew it would be waiting for him when he got back, he was grateful to be rid of it even temporarily and was determined to enjoy the day.

The forest grew thicker as they headed north. The narrow highway wound between cliffs and into gorges, following the lay of the land. Subforests of small saplings grew in the shade of huge ponderosas. Low bushes covered all available space. Here and there, they could see the stark leafless skeletons of trees hit by lightning, bare branches contrasting sharply with the surrounding lushness. Once, near a small pond in a grassy meadow, they saw a deer, frozen in place by the terror of seeing their car.

Then the trees tapered off, segueing from forest to high desert, and after another hour, the road hit Black Canyon Highway.

“Burger King,” Billy said as they passed a sign that said it was forty miles to Sedona. “Let’s eat at Burger King.”

It was the most interest he’d shown in anything all day, and Doug was about to say okay, but Tritia said firmly, “No, we’re going to eat at Tlaquepaque.”

“Not that place again,” Billy groaned.

“We haven’t been there in over a year,” his mother told him.

“Not long enough.”

“You be quiet.”