The Perfect Holiday

CHAPTER 20: Shane

“Well, I reckon that’s it,” Uncle Seth said as he watched me toss my duffel into the back of the rental car. “Wish you’d hang around for a while. We could catch up. Do some fishing.”

“I’d like to, but now that the house is done I need to get back,” I said. “I appreciate all your help. I wish you’d let me pay you.”

He held up his hands. “You gave me a car and a truck and a houseful of furniture, son. We’re square.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “And I appreciate you taking mom’s dog, too.”

He smiled. He’d never admit it, but he had bonded with the little white dog right off the bat. He had scooped her up and said he was taking her home to Wilma. The next day all he could talk about was how fucking cute that dog was.

“Happy to help,” he said. “Wilma loves that little dog.”

“That’s good to know.” I took a moment to look over the front of the house. It looked a hundred times better than it had a week before. The roof had been replaced, the siding repaired and painted, the windows replaced. Inside there was fresh paint and carpet and appliances. Juju’s sign was in the yard. I told her to take whatever was offered and email me the papers for signatures.

I opened the truck door and slid in behind the wheel. Seth leaned in the open window and let his voice go soft. “You ever coming back?”

I shook my head. “No, sir.”

He nodded like he understood. “Okay, well, you take care. You know where we are if you need us.”

“Thanks, Uncle Seth. You take care.”

I put the truck in gear and drove slowly away without looking in the rearview mirror. I took the long way around so I wouldn’t have to go through the intersection where Kenny died. I crossed the railroad tracks on the south end of town and turned toward the highway.

I’d be at the Houston airport in a couple of hours and back in Afghanistan by tomorrow.

I would never see Gulf Breeze again.

I kept telling myself that was just fine with me.

CHAPTER 21: Annabel

“You just missed him,” Seth said after I screeched to a halt in front of Shane’s parents’ house. He was loading tools into the back of his truck. He tugged a kerchief from his back pocket and took off his hat to wipe the sweat from his face. “Is everything all right, Doc?”

My head swiveled on my neck. “No, it’s not,” I said, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. “How long ago did he leave? Where was he going?”

“Probably ten, fifteen minutes. Have you tried to call him?”

“Yes, but he’s not picking up.”

Seth nodded and scratch the stubble that covered his chin. “He’s flying out of Houston this afternoon. He’s headed there now.”

“Shit,” I said, slamming my palms against the steering wheel.

“He’s gotta stop for gas,” Seth said with a knowing smile.

I blinked at him. “What?”

“He’s in a rental car. You have to return it with the tank full or they charge you some ungodly penalty.” He narrowed his eyes to squint into the distance. “If you leave now you

might catch him.”

“You think?”

He grinned and drummed his fingers on the door. “You’ll never know unless you try.” He stepped back and hitched his head to the side. “Go on. What are you waiting for?”

CHAPTER 22: Shane