Pops was clearly sick, in his last days, she suspected, and it was obvious to her that this was devastating to all of them. She could see that it was especially devastating to Will.
Her heart grieved that he was hurting. He hadn’t said a word.
She moved through the room and sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa. Someone turned the lights off, and Will took over from there.
He cleared his throat. “As you all know, when I was ten years old, Pops and I went on an epic adventure. A journey across the country because Pops thought I needed a little history lesson, and an appreciation of the way things used to be done.”
“That trip wasn’t really about the open highway or all the places we stopped on the way, though, was it Pops?” Will paused and looked at his grandpa.
Pops pulled the mask off his face and smiled. “That trip,” a breath, “was about,” another breath, then a toothy smile, “you and me, kiddo.”
“That’s true,” Will said. “It was a chance for a kid to get to know his grandpa, who turned out to be a pretty great guy. Crazy driver, I think I learned a few swear words on that trip. . .but pretty great nonetheless.” The room laughed in acknowledgement, with Nadia adding, “He nearly killed us that one time speeding over the hill on Sink Hollow Road, do you remember that?”
More laughter.
Will picked up his laptop, hit a few buttons and a photo appeared on the television. Ten-year-old Will and Pops, standing in front of one of the vintage gas stations she was pretty sure she’d seen on the way here.
“We always said we were going to do it again,” Will said. “So, this year, on the way home for Christmas,” Will’s voice broke, just slightly, “I decided to take that trip in your honor, Pops.”
That’s why. Oh, my goodness, Will.
“I wanted to revisit as many of the same places as I could remember. So, in honor of the best grandpa a kid could ever ask for, here is a recap of our cross-country Christmas road trip adventure.”
He gave a quick glance at Lauren, then focused—as they all did—on the screen.
And right there, moment for moment, their road trip played out in front of them.
Image after image of Will posing at historical landmarks, vintage gas stations, the world’s largest rocking chair, and out in front of their hotels. Big Mom’s Wigwam. Pop’s Diner. The Torchlight Parade. All these images capturing so much more, she realized now, than a simple road trip home.
Scattered throughout were photos of Lauren. Lauren walking to the car. The one she took of Will watching the sunset on the side of the road. Lauren and Rosa in the kitchen. Lauren at the Christmas market. Lauren asleep in the car with her mouth wide open.
Mortified! Will!
Will standing by the New Mexico sign. Will changing the flat tire.
And on and on. Photo after photo documenting the last several days. Documenting her many mixed feelings when it came to Will.
She’d been so terrible to him about this trip. She’d complained that he wanted to take his time or make several stops along the way, and once again, she was ashamed. He hadn’t done it to get under her skin—he’d done it all for his grandfather.
And it couldn’t have been easy.
Lauren tried to swallow around the ball of emotion, but couldn’t keep her eyes from welling with tears. Why hadn’t he said anything?
Then came the picture of the two of them, with Santa, where she wasn’t even looking at the camera. . .but at him.
Lauren pretended not to notice, but Will’s parents raised their eyebrows at each other in an unspoken conversation.
The last picture was taken of the rearview mirror, and in the mirror was a vintage highway marker with the road stretched out to the horizon. The picture had gotten the road ahead and the road behind in the same shot.
The road ahead and the road behind.
By the end, Will had gone silent, his entertaining narration finished. She reached over and slipped her hand around his and squeezed, wishing she could go back to the beginning of the week with this new knowledge, with the truth about who he really was, and take the entire trip again. She’d do so many things differently.
He squeezed back.
Someone flipped the lights back on, and the room was filled with sniffles, warm smiles through tears, and the kind of looks you only experience when you’re part of a tight-knit family. Will held her hand for a few seconds longer, then pulled away, turning toward his grandpa.
“Lauren, what was your favorite part of the trip?” Kayla asked. “We were always jealous because we never got to go. It was a guys-only thing.” She rolled her eyes playfully.