A Song for the Road by Kathleen Basi (classic literature books txt) 📕

excitement, they’d failed to notice Miriam’s stunned silence after Blaise mentioned meeting the famous August von Rickenbach.

“We’ll see you tomorrow!” was Blaise’s parting shout as Teo had retrieved the phone. “We’re going on a beach-hunting expedition, and Dr. von Rickenbach said he’d camp with us tomorrow night!”

Teo had clicked off the speaker. “You’d have been proud of them today, Mira.”

But Miriam couldn’t focus on her children’s success. “Teo—is it really Gus?”

“I assume so.” Of course, Teo couldn’t know for sure. He’d never met Gus. She’d made sure of it. “Can’t imagine another guy with a name that fussy.”

Despite feeling overwrought—or perhaps because of it—she’d had to chuckle.

“Ah,” he’d said, and even now Miriam could picture the satisfied look on his face at having coaxed a laugh from her. “I’ve missed that sound. I wish you could have been here, but I’m glad it worked out the way it did. This isn’t how they should find out. They need to hear it from us. But Mira, it’s time they know. Past time.”

“Can they hear you?”

“No, they’re off talking to Mr. von … Dr.… to Gus.” Teo chuffed. “I gotta say, he’s a charmer, that man. Even Talia’s starry-eyed.”

Miriam could hear the vulnerability in her husband’s voice. He’d stepped in and raised this family, and now … “I’m so sorry, Teo,” she’d told him. “It’s not fair to you, having to deal with this.”

“It’s all right. I’ll protect my family. But I think you’d better stay home.” His voice had changed. Raised a bit, as if for public consumption. “It’s only going to get worse if you get on a plane and wear yourself out. We’re going on a hunt for the most beautiful beach in California. Some project Talia has in mind—for school maybe? I’m not sure. But it’s not weather for someone with the flu. Windy. Cold. Just stay in bed and let Becky force-feed you chicken soup, okay, Sassafras?”

She could hear the protests in the background.

“No, no,” Teo addressed their children. “Of course she didn’t tell you she’s sick. She’s your mother. Tell her you love her and you’ll see her when you get home.”

Only they’d never made it home. It never occurred to any of them, as they’d shouted “I love you!” and “See you soon!” into the phone, that those were the last words they would ever exchange. If they’d realized it, the end of that conversation would have been very different.

But it wasn’t. Her family’s story had ended twenty-four hours later, on a bridge, on their way to this spot, on a day not unlike this one.

A spray of sand dusted her sunglasses; her locket caught a brief gust of wind and slapped back down against her chest. She grabbed it and held on tight as she walked toward the water, stopping several feet away from the crashing surf. In this spot, North America’s final plunge to the Pacific was steep, waves breaking right at the tide line instead of out in the surf.

Her phone dinged. Miriam, startled, released her grip on the locket, only then recognizing the ache in her hand. A text from Dicey:

You got this girl.

Miriam smiled, breathing a prayer of gratitude. She slid her phone back into her pocket and flexed her fingers to work out the pain of clinging so tightly to the past.

The wind calmed. Miriam took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Teo,” she said. “I wasted so much time. I always loved you. But you knew that already, didn’t you?” The sinking sun kissed her cheeks, her forehead, and the tip of her nose. She swallowed. “I’ll always miss you. And I’ll always love you. But it’s time to stop looking back.”

The warmth spread. Not quite a hug from beyond the grave. But close. “Kids, take care of your father.”

The wind picked up again. She closed her eyes. It was time. She lifted the locket over her head and held it in both hands, closing her eyes. She could feel it all around her again, the sense of being part of something vast and beautiful and holy. She couldn’t change the past, but she could shift the trajectory of her future. From now on, she would honor Teo—and Talia and Blaise, and her mother and Brad and Jo—Dicey and Deandra—she would honor all those she loved, the dead and the living alike, by her commitment to live free and love fully. That would be her love song. Her gift to the world.

Breathing deep, Miriam lifted the locket over her head. She flipped a thumb over the latch and let the fragile petals fly.

 AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

Kathleen Basi is a classical flutist who’s composed a number of works for instrumental and choral ensembles. Her writing can be found in Apeiron Review, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and NPR’s All Things Considered. A Song for the Road is her first novel.

This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real or actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 by Kathleen Basi

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Alcove Press, an imprint of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.

Alcove Press and its logo are trademarks of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.

Library of Congress Catalog-in-Publication data available upon request.

ISBN (trade paperback): 978-1-64385-690-2

ISBN (ebook): 978-1-64385-691-9

Cover design by Melanie Sun

Printed in the United States.

www.alcovepress.com

Alcove Press

34 West 27th St., 10th Floor

New York, NY 10001

First Edition: May 2021

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1