When he’d been a boy he’d had cap pistols and a football and a train. Immutable diversions. Now they had toys that turned into other toys. What galled him was that he couldn’t figure out how they worked. He’d once spent a futile couple of hours fiddling with one of his son’s Transformers and had achieved only a fine sense of feeling daft. Steven’s pudgy fingers effortlessly turned the chunk of brightly colored plastic and metal into a succession of sleek gadgets.
“You look worried,” said Alicia. “You’re upset.”
“Sure I’m upset.”
“You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look? The look that says I’m forty and death is just around the corner?” He tried hard not to smile at her and failed. She reached over and caressed his right arm, squeezing gently. Both his expression and his voice softened.
“You’ve known me so long. I don’t know what I’d do without you, babe.”
“Same back at you, Sonderberg. Want to drive for another hour, or you want me to take over?”
“Naw. I’ll stay with it awhile longer. After all, I’d planned on driving for another couple of days. You’re not real disappointed, are you?”
“Would I lie to you, Frank? No, I’m not disappointed. A real bed and a real shower would be so nice.”
“So much for the natural experience,” he grunted.
“If you want to expose the children to nature, maybe at the end of summer we can all go up to Yosemite together. I think they’d handle that okay.”
“Sure they would. There’s fast food machines everywhere, cable TV, and plenty of boys for your daughter to flirt with. We can stay in some fancy hotel and eat out every night.”
Her smile faded slightly. “You know, Frank, keeping house even on wheels and cooking three meals a day on that little gas stove isn’t exactly my idea of a vacation.”
“All right. Point conceded. Look, I’ve already given in, haven’t I? I said we’d drive straight on through and take the plane back when it’s time to come home. Don’t make me feel any worse about it than I already do.”
“I know you better than that, Frank. You’re protesting too much. Don’t tell me you’ve been having such a grand time yourself. Be honest, now.”
As usual with Alicia he was unable to muster a convincing lie. “Yes and no. I’m disappointed the kids didn’t get to see more of this country. I’m sorry you and I didn’t get to see more. But maybe they aren’t old enough to appreciate it like I thought, and maybe it’s the wrong time of year.” Even though it was early summer it was already too hot to stand outside for long. “My intentions were good, sweetheart.”
“I know that, Frank. I think the children realize it, too.”
He was nodding to himself. “My intentions were good. It was just the actuality that stank, right?” He held up a hand to forestall her protest. “Maybe we’ll try it again another year.” He stared out the bug-splattered windshield at the endless ribbon of highway, the sallow-colored hills, and frugal vegetation. “Yosemite probably would be more interesting. It’s just that we were going to Vegas anyway.”
“Education shouldn’t be the main purpose of a vacation, dear. It’s a lot like work. It’s hard enough to get you to relax. You’re thinking about work right now, aren’t you?”
“I’m always thinking about work. Can’t help it, hon. I’m trying to run fifty-six stores and get ready to open those four new ones in Oregon. Two in Portland, one in Medford, the other in Eugene. It’s tough to leave stuff like that behind you. You don’t know what it’s like trying to run the company now that it’s gotten so big.”
“No, but I know what it’s like to try living with the man who does. That’s exasperating enough. If not for your own sake then for mine, try to put it out of your mind long enough to relax a little. It’ll do you good.”
“We go through this every time we go away. God knows I’ve heard the same thing from every doctor I’ve ever seen. You know what they say? They say it’s a miracle my blood pressure isn’t higher than it is. You’re right about it, of course.”
“You’re going to have to try to learn to relax in spite of yourself. You sure you don’t want me to take over?”
“No, I’ll drive for another hour, anyway. Alicia, when you’ve built up something like the business from nothing, it becomes a lot like a child itself. It’s tough to put it out of your mind.”
“Well, you have two other children to consider. Sometimes it’s important for us to think about what they want instead of what we want for them.”
He made a face. “You make it sound like I’ve been forcing them to sit through a ten-hour lecture on national monetary policy.” He reached out to tap the map with a finger. “That ghost town yesterday was fun, wasn’t it?” He looked back. “Didn’t everybody have fun at the ghost town?”
“They had great corn dogs.” Steven tried to sound hopeful, aware that his father was less than pleased with him. He wasn’t sure his reply had the desired effect, though.
“What about you?”
“Say what?” Wendy slipped off the headphones.
“Calico.” Frank spoke patiently, trying to watch the road at the same time. “The ghost town. Didn’t you have a good time there?”
“Actually, Pops, I thought it was kind of a drag. The walk through the gold mine, that’s just so old. And the bar where all they could sell was soda. I mean, come on, Pops. Get real.”
“You’d have preferred a beer, I suppose.” She just smiled knowingly. “You’ve got a few years to go before you’re legal, kiddo.”
“Maybe I’m not legal, but I’m cute.” She was teasing him now, he knew. Demonstrating the social superiority of the American adolescent. “I can get beer in Vegas, you know.”
“Where? Who gave you beer?”
“Frank.” Alicia spoke softly, trying to calm her husband. “Can’t you see she’s just trying to get to you?”
He turned grumpily back to his driving. “She’s succeeding. If I find out someone in a casino is selling sixteen-year-olds beer, especially my sixteen-year-old…”
“Take it easy, Frank.”
“I know, I know. Blood pressure.”
“I mean,” said Wendy, her attention and voice beginning to fade under the influence of the tape she was listening to, “it was a place for golden oldies, you know?”
Frank forced himself to keep both hands on the wheel. “Just remember it’s the golden oldies up here who’re paying for this trip and for those invisible swimsuits you think you’re going to wear poolside. I swear,” he muttered, “the less material they put in those things the more they charge. I’m waiting for pasties and a fig leaf at fifty bucks a pop.”
