She licked her lips and tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. How was it possible to feel so much and yet say so little? And yet that was her world. She kept feelings inside that balloon and hoped that one day it wouldn’t burst.

Liza stepped back, gave an awkward smile and turned back to the car.

Kathleen gave a wave, unsettled by the sense of loss she felt.

She stood still as Liza eased into the never-ending flow of traffic, and it didn’t just feel like goodbye. It felt like a moment gone forever. An opportunity lost.

I love you too. You do know that, don’t you?

She turned, battling that feeling of disappointment that comes when you’ve failed an exam, or missed a goal. That feeling that came when you knew you should have done better.

The moment she entered the terminal building, the bustle and the echoing noise closed around her and her mood lifted. The present could always drown out the past if you made your present loud enough.

The feeling lasted until a young man almost knocked her flying with a Look where you’re going, Grandma.

Up on the departures board were all the destinations, reminding her of how big the world was, and how small she’d allowed hers to become.

She spotted Martha standing by the automatic check-in, looking lost.

Kathleen waved and trailed her suitcase along the gleaming floor, weaving her way through the passengers as Martha approached with the excitement and enthusiasm of a Labrador.

“Kathleen!” Martha enveloped her in a big hug. “Our flight is on time, I checked. Chicago, here we come.” Some of her vibrant energy flowed into Kathleen, and the pressure in her chest eased. Those uncomfortable emotions slid back deep inside her where they belonged.

For the next month she had no need to think about them.

What a perfect pair she and Martha would make. Her wisdom and experience, combined with Martha’s youth and energy.

Her new companion would compensate for all those parts of her that no longer seemed to work properly.

Three time zones, eight states, one incredible adventure.

It was going to be perfect.

7

MARTHA

Forty-eight hours later, Martha stared at the sleek high-performance car in front of her and gave a silent apology for what she was about to do to it. Why, oh why, hadn’t she been honest about the fact she hated driving?

Her mother was right. She always made bad decisions.

It was all very well faking confidence—Yes, I love driving—but sooner or later you had to face your own lies and she was facing hers now. The thought of climbing behind the wheel of that sports car made her feel nauseated. It was like riding a racehorse when you’d only ever been on a fairground horse.

Oh Martha, Martha.