North Platte, Nebraska

Patsy Kowak couldn’t believe it. She fingered the envelope left for her in the middle of the kitchen table, its contents half sticking out: two first-class airline tickets to Cleveland, Ohio. She had found them waiting for her this morning when she sat down to have her coffee.

“I booked us a room at the Hyatt Regency,” Ward said from behind her. She hadn’t heard him come into the room. “That’s where you said you wanted to stay, right?”

“I said it. I didn’t think you heard it.”

“I listen to you.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from her. He never took time out to sit and drink coffee. His usually went into a thermos to-go mug and out the door with him.

“These tickets are for Wednesday,” Patsy said, tapping them against the tabletop as if she still didn’t believe they were real.

“Yeah, well, we have a layover in Atlanta. It’ll take us most of the day to get there. I thought we could have all day Thursday to ourselves, to sit back and enjoy. Relax.”

She raised her eyebrow at him. “You sure you know how?”

“What? Relax? I think I can figure it out. Lee and Betty offered to look after things.”

She held up the first-class tickets. “Whatever got into you? Last time we talked you didn’t even want to go.”

“I realized how much it means to you.”

“But not to you?” She was disappointed in his answer. He noticed. Thirty-two years of marriage, how could he not notice.

“I don’t agree with Conrad’s choices,” he said, avoiding her eyes and staring into his coffee as though it held the correct answer. “I might not agree but he’s still my son.”

She reached across the table and put her hand over his callused one. He wasn’t much for shows of affection and quickly found a way to change the subject.

“Go get yourself one of those manicures,” he said, taking her hand in his and pretending it was only to examine it. “You work hard around here. Treat yourself.”

Her hands were an embarrassment, dry and red skin, raw gouges where she’d cut the cuticles too deeply. Yes, she’d treat herself.

She knew Ward would come around. Her husband was a good man. A good father. Patsy was so pleased, she had almost forgotten about getting out of bed earlier with a headache and a backache. All she had to do was stand up for an instant reminder. Her head throbbed with a thousand little hammers beating behind her brow. She cupped the palm of her hand over her forehead. A bit of a fever, too. She couldn’t come down with the flu now. In two days she’d be traveling to her son’s wedding. She refused to get sick.

She glanced at the wall clock, picked up the phone and dialed from memory.

“Conrad Kovak’s office.” The woman’s voice was abrupt in a way that discouraged callers from even responding. Patsy wondered if she should say something to Conrad.

“Is Conrad in?”

“Mr. Kovak will be in meetings all morning.”

“This is his mother.”

Patsy waited. With Conrad’s previous assistant, it made a difference. If Conrad really wasn’t in a meeting Renae would put the call through when she learned it was Patsy. With this assistant it obviously made no difference.

After a long pause the woman asked, “Do you want to leave a message?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Patsy said, getting ready to tell her to have Conrad call later, but there was a click and buzz and suddenly another voice telling her to leave a message after the tone. The assistant had sent her on to voice messaging, something Renae would never have done.

“Conrad, it’s Mom. Just wanted to let you know we’ll be leaving for Cleveland on Wednesday. Your dad bought first-class tickets for us. And he did it all on his own. I didn’t even tell him about the money you sent. Call me later, sweetie.”

Patsy hung up the phone. Now she needed to take something so she didn’t end up with the flu.