The idea excited Grace and despite her uncertainties, she agreed, reasoning that it was best to take control of their future.

At the outset the move meant a new, fully furnished house in Pittsburgh that John’s company would lease to them for a year, giving them time to find a home, or renew. For John and his son, Blake, it meant the Steelers, the Pirates and the Penguins. Grace had only been to Pittsburgh once, years ago for a conference and she’d liked the Carnegie and Warhol museums.

For the kids the move meant new schools, which was why they were making the trek now, to get them enrolled.

It also meant leaving mild Southern California winters for snow and cold.

It meant severing ties with San Diego, leaving good friends, selling their beautiful home in Mission Hills where Grace had lived with Tim, her first husband, the home in which Riley grew up.

For Riley, the move was an emotional amputation of everything she’d known in her life, and in a sense, for her, it was a betrayal of her father’s memory.

Grace got that. John got that.

This move was hard for all of them.

For Blake, it meant leaving the life he’d known in California where his mother and sister had died tragically together. But if Blake had concerns about moving he never voiced them. At seventeen, after all the adversity he’d endured, Blake was patient and uncomplaining. At times he could be quiet, withdrawn, as if he had something on his mind.

For instance now, Blake, like Riley, was also lost to his phone.

Grace and John exchanged glances.

So far this trip was not what they’d envisioned.

“Come on guys,” John said, “you haven’t looked away from your phones since we left.”

No one responded.

“We’re all sad to leave San Diego,” John said. “We got this RV to see America as a family, not to watch your screens. Come on, guys, get with the program.”

No answer.

John continued. “So like we planned, we’ll stop in Vegas for a bit then we’ll see the Grand Canyon. What do you think?”

Silence.

John let out a long breath, glanced in the mirror. Blake was at the dinette, Riley at the sofa. Both were indifferent.

“Guys—” Grace turned to the kids “—this is our chance to make some memories. You’re missing the mountains and the valleys. It’s majestic.”

“It’s pretty boring,” Riley said to her phone.

“Look—” John pointed to the pencil-like tower ahead of them “—we’re coming up to Baker with the World’s Tallest Thermometer. We can stop, take pictures. It’ll be fun. What do you say?”

“Whatever,” Blake said.

“Don’t care,” Riley said.

Grace got out of her seat, went to Riley and Blake and snatched their phones.

“Hey!” Blake said.

“What the hell, Mom?” Riley said.

The air tensed.