Road and Beyond: The Expanded Book-Club Edition of The Road to You

by Brant, Marilyn

  I jumped back, stumbling a little on the wet sand with all of its unevenness and stray seaweed. But then I heard the voice I’d been waiting for—hoping for—all year long.

  “Hey, Birthday Girl. Watch your step.”

  Donovan.

  I swiveled toward him and he caught me in an embrace so fierce it brought tears to my eyes. Or maybe it was because I was finally feeling his breath on my cheek again. Or hearing the deep strum of his vocal chords when he whispered my name. Or inhaling his scent as he pulled me even closer and kissed me. A union of salt water and body heat. Ocean and sun.

  When I could gasp enough air to speak, I brushed away my tears and chided, “I’ve been waiting forever for you. I thought you’d never get here.”

  He pointed toward the parking lot of the beachside hotel that he’d chosen for us to meet at tonight. Even from this distance, I could spot the distinctive crimson gleam of his Firebird Trans Am. “It was a hell of a long drive from Chameleon Lake, Aurora.”

  We both laughed at that. A journey far longer than the sum of its miles, that was for sure.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “But I’m so glad you came.”

  This, too, was an understatement of massive proportions. Our plan was to celebrate my nineteenth birthday on the Pacific Coast—just for a few days, so we could finally see the cities of L.A. and Pasadena and the western end of Route 66 together—and then we were both heading to Flagstaff in Donovan’s car. To work at our summer jobs in the city. To start classes in the fall. My eager second year of college. His tentative first.

  Truly, I could barely stand the anticipation. Of wanting this future. Of wanting to begin this new journey with Donovan. No matter where the road led us.

  “You have all your stuff with you?” I asked him, squeezing his hand and tugging him toward a trail that led away from the shore—a different one than I’d taken on the way down here. I wanted every step we took together, from this point forward, to signal the forging of a new path. For both of us.

  Donovan nodded and hugged me as we walked toward the hotel. “Everything I need.”

  “Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them.”

  ~Marcel Proust

  AURORA’S NOTES

  Pasadena, California ~ Summer 2020

  Kierkegaard once wrote, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” I find myself thinking about that often. Every day, if you want to know the truth.

  It had taken a full year of letters, long-distance phone calls and passionate holiday visits before Donovan finally moved to Arizona to be with me. Two years after that, we got married in a small, private ceremony in Flagstaff—the week after I turned twenty-one.

  My parents and Donovan’s mom flew down for the wedding, and Gideon surprised us by showing up for a few hours, too. He introduced himself to our NAU friends at the reception as “Andy, our California cousin.” He had deep golden sun streaks in his hair and a new mustache to complement his beard. He came alone, still riding his motorcycle.

  In the decades since, he’s reappeared on occasion. Most of the time, we really didn’t know what he did professionally or where he lived, but we’d get a surprise postcard from him a couple of times per year, a rare phone call and sometimes even an impromptu visit—just never in Minnesota.

  Gideon hadn’t wanted to “grow up” in the traditional sense. As far as I know, he never got married himself, he always drifted and he remained a great lover of personal freedom. A choice that was his to make.

  Donovan said he’d defended our country to protect freedoms like these. That Gideon’s choice of duty and service was different from his own, but “it wasn’t the job of one brother to force another into following the same path…just to help him on his journey and carry the load sometimes if needed.”

  Billy Neville had a slightly different perspective. One day, after he’d become deputy chief, he told us that my brother had turned down repeated offers to join not only the FBI but the Albuquerque police force as well.

  Though he was disappointed, he felt it was all right that Gideon elected not to do it.

  Billy said, “Some people need to settle down to find themselves. That’s how they know who they are. How they know they’re really home. But others can only know themselves through action. By being in motion. As a traveler on an ultimate journey.”

  I came to understand that more clearly as the years went on. In thinking about my own travel adventures, and those of my children, I realized that, yes, I’d come to know myself better, too, when on the road. And though driving trips always remind me of the summer I turned eighteen and all of the accompanying memories—both the good and the bad—I still enjoy going on those excursions.

  At least as long as Donovan is with me.

  I graduated from NAU with a degree in library science the year after Donovan and I got married. We had our first son that fall and named him after Donovan’s brother and his beloved grandfather: Jeremy Joseph McCafferty. We called him “J.J.” and, later, just “Jay,” a school nickname that stuck. Our “baby” boy is now thirty-eight, still married to Susan, with three kids of his own. Two girls and a boy.

  My husband and I welcomed a second son four years later and named him Charles Andrew, after my father and, in a way, my brother. Yes, that’s my Charlie. No wife or children for him yet, but he’s got a live-in girlfriend (a different one, her name’s Meg) and two very excitable cocker spaniels. They seem happy together, which is all I care about. He always remembers to call me now if he’s going out of town.

  Donovan started taking college classes part time the year he moved to Arizona and, eventually, got his degree in mechanical engineering. He learned to design complicated things inside cars, which I mostly don’t understand, but I nod my head encouragingly whenever he talks about it. He got a job offer in Pasadena shortly after he graduated, so we moved to California then. I still work at the public library downtown, while Donovan just retired this spring from the car manufacturing plant.

  As far as what happened to everyone else…

  Well, Betsy and I lost touch about thirty years ago. However, through the Chameleon Lake gossip vine, I know she was married, divorced and remarried—with five kids and some twelve grandchildren. Lives in northern Florida these days.

  Donovan’s mother moved to Santa Fe a few months after our firstborn arrived.

  “That way,” she told us, “I can be closer to both Jeremys.”

  She’s in a lively retirement community there now and has been more active in the past decade than many women half her age.

  My father died about five years ago, but my mom still lives up in Minnesota. She’s frailer, of course, than she used to be, but her mind is still strong. Her memories even stronger.

  That long-ago summer, she made me promise that if I were ever able to bring Gideon home, I should. For her.

  It was, perhaps, the one thing my brother—despite all his ciphers, codes and cleverness—could never understand. We mothers may not openly challenge our children when they let us go, but we never let them go. It was my mom’s dearest wish to be permanently reunited with her son.

  And now I can give that gift to her.

  Today, it’s my birthday. Sixty years old. Where did the decades go? And I’m waiting for Donovan to finish checking the tires so he can bring the car around.

  It’s not a 1978 Firebird Trans Am, but a new zippy-red Ford convertible. We’ve got the GPS programmed, digital music downloaded and ready to play, our cell phones charged and a cooler in the backseat packed with turkey sandwiches, chilled sodas and a handful of Kit Kats. (Many things change with the times, but not everything.)

  This will be Day One of our return trip along the Mother Road—or as much of it as is left—and, for us, driving the historic West to East route in its entirety for the first time.

  I found love along this road, back when we’d once headed the other way. Faced death and fear. And chose my future.
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  Some might question my moral compass or raise their eyebrows at the decisions I made, but I acted on instinct, and I believe it served me well. With the perspective of so many years behind me, I know I made the right choices for me.

  As for my traveling companions—those truest to me over time—it was always Donovan. He was my best friend, my surrogate brother while I needed one, my lover and, eventually, my husband and the father of my children.

  The two of us are retracing a handful of unforgettable steps in finally doing the Route 66 drive back…and, this time, we’re bringing Gideon with us.

  He was sixty-two when he died—in May, just five weeks ago—a hero (or antihero) felled by cancer, not by some villain. Either way, he was gone from our lives too soon.

  I’m keeping a record of our journey. We’ll be stopping in Flagstaff to visit old college friends, in Albuquerque to see Billy Neville and to pay our respects at Jeremy’s gravesite, in Santa Fe to spend a day or two with Donovan’s mother and even in the Chicago suburbs to meet up with Amy Lynn and her family for a night.

  But, after that, we’ll take my brother’s ashes up to Chameleon Lake to give to my mom, whose enduring love persists regardless of time.

  And then Gideon Gray will finally have returned home.

  The End

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  “Music is the shorthand of emotion.”

  ~Leo Tolstoy

  Soundtrack of the Story

  “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin

  “Who Are You” by The Who

  “Pinball Wizard” by The Who

  “Dance With Me” by Orleans

  “Life in the Fast Lane” by The Eagles

  “Band on the Run” by Wings

  “Love the One You’re With” by Crosby, Stills and Nash

  “More Than a Feeling” by Boston

  “Hitch a Ride” by Boston

  “Let Me Take You Home Tonight” by Boston

  “Wheel in the Sky” by Journey

  “Rock and Roll All Nite” by KISS

  “Grease (Is the Word)” by Frankie Valli

  “Greased Lightning” by John Travolta & the Cast of Grease

  “Stayin’ Alive” by The Bee Gees

  “How Deep is Your Love” by The Bee Gees

  “If I Can’t Have You” by Yvonne Elliman

  “You Should Be Dancing” by The Bee Gees

  “Jive Talking” by The Bee Gees

  “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” by Jim Croce

  “Promised Land” by The Grateful Dead

  “Get Your Kicks on Route 66” by Perry Como

  “The Entertainer” by Scott Joplin

  “Summer Breeze” by Seals and Crofts

  “Running on Empty” by Jackson Browne

  “The Fuse” by Jackson Browne

  “Saturday in the Park” by Chicago

  “Muskrat Love” by The Captain and Tennille

  “I Think I Love You” by David Cassidy

  “Sweet Talkin’ Woman” by ELO

  “Only the Good Die Young” by Billy Joel

  “Goodbye to Love” by The Carpenters

  “Da Doo Ron Ron” by Shawn Cassidy

  “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” by The Rolling Stones

  “Roll Me Away” by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band

  “Abracadabra” by The Steve Miller Band

  “American Pie” by Don McLean

  “Nobody Does It Better” by Carly Simon

  “Tonight’s the Night (Gonna Be Alright)” by Rod Stewart

  “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen

  “Ventura Highway” by America

  “Don’t Look Back” by Boston

  “A Man I’ll Never Be” by Boston

  “Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy” by Bad Company

  “Walk Through Fire” by Bad Company

  “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Elton John

  Discussion Questions

  1-The reader sees Aurora at multiple ages in this story. What do you think of her as a watchful teenager? A worried mother? A mature woman reflecting back on her life? Which of her personality traits are most consistent through time?

  2-What were your first impressions of Donovan McCafferty? Did your feelings for him remain constant or change over the course of the novel? What did you think of his relationship with Aurora?

  3-Did you guess the fate of Aurora and Donovan’s siblings—Gideon and Jeremy? Which segments of the plot involving these two young men most surprised you?

  4-What did you think of the parallel story structure? Was it easy to follow the different narrative threads and understand how Aurora’s memories from the 1970s impacted her perspective on the present?

  5-Could you sympathize with Aurora’s approach as a mother in trying to find her son Charlie? If you learned your adult child was missing, what would you do? Which steps would you take first?

  6-Which scenes—in either time period, or in both—were most poignant for you? Were there any that struck you as humorous? Anxiety-provoking? Surprising?

  7-Were you satisfied by the story’s conclusion? What did you think of the sections labeled “Aurora’s Notes” at the beginning and the end of the book?

  8-How do our childhood experiences influence the way we view difficult situations when we’re older? Do you have a powerful experience from your past that you feel has shaped your worldview significantly more than most?

  9-Did the pop-culture references from the 1970s resonate with you? Were you alive during that era and, if so, do you have any strong recollections from the decade? How has our increased technology through the years impacted our ability to find out information and/or communicate with those closest to us?

  10-Have you ever traveled along any part of the famous Route 66? If so, was there a stop you made that you found unusually enjoyable or, conversely, unpleasant? What was it about the place that made it so memorable?

  Acknowledgments

  Jane Austen once wrote, “What strange creatures brothers are!” That may be true, but they are also amazing and generous creatures, and I’ve been blessed with a fabulous brother and brother-in-law, both of whom were instrumental in the drafting of the original novel, The Road to You, and this expanded version of the story. I’m indebted to each of them for the different ways they contributed to my manuscript.

  Although all mistakes in writing are mine alone, I was extremely fortunate to be able to ask my brother-in-law Brad, a 30-year-veteran of the police force and a retired deputy chief, hours upon hours of questions about the guns and ammunition cops used in the late 1970s, what their communication tools were like back then and the methods they employed to conduct their investigations. Truly, if cluelessness had a face when it came to correct police procedures and topics like “ways bad guys can explode things,” it would have been mine. But I loved learning so many fascinating details from you, Brad, and I’m very appreciative of your expertise and wisdom.

  As for my brother Joe,
let me just say that no sister on the planet has been luckier than I’ve been in having a sibling who is so consistently thoughtful, classy and smart. I’ve admired you for as long as I’ve known you, Bro. You’re one of my heroes.

  Some books take a village to write and publish; this one took a metropolis...

  Thank you to my wonderful Chicago-North RWA friends and critique partners—especially Karen, Lisa and Laura, to whom the book is dedicated—for all the editing you did on multiple versions of this novel. Erika Danou and Simone Elkeles, my appreciation to you both for your early feedback on the opening chapters, too.

  Huge thanks to my friends Catherine DePasquale, Anita Mumm and Therese Walsh, who took the time to critique this project at various stages and offer valuable suggestions. And an extra dollop of gratitude to Sarah Pressly-James and Lexi Ryan for sharing so many insights and for simply being such fabulous women.

  More thanks (and unlimited bottles of wine) to the members of the fabulous Glenview Book Club for their feedback and heartening enthusiasm, particularly: Dori Barbeau, Claudia Bianchi, Janet Conlin, Marcie Dixon, Terri Guercio, Chris Lama, Lisa Lockett, Megan Lockett, Fran Mazur, Marty Mazur, Allison Vevang and Beth Weigel. I love chatting about books with you ladies and always look forward to our delightful evenings together.

  Endless appreciation to the Austen Variations authors and the entire JA community, as well as to Deb Haupt, Debbie Hoffman, Karen Karris, Jakki Leatherberry, Margie Longoria, Monica Perry, Joyce Twardock, Emily Tippetts and all of the warm and generous librarians, reviewers, bloggers and friends—online and off—who’ve supported my novels for years, no matter what the genre. Couldn’t have done it without you!