When he spoke, his voice was almost inaudible over the wind. "Why do I have to go to Dad's? It's not like we're going to do anything fun. He sends me to bed at nine o'clock, like I'm still in second grade or something. I'm never even tired. And tomorrow, he'll have me do chores all day."

"I thought he was taking you to your grandfather's house for brunch after church."

"I still don't want to go."

I don't want you to go, either, she thought. But what could she do?

"Why don't you bring a book?" she suggested. "You can read in your room tonight, and if you get bored tomorrow, you can read there, too."

"You always say that."

Because I don't know what eke to tell you, she thought "You want to go to the bookstore?"

"No," he said. But she could tell he didn't mean it.

"Well, come with me anyway. I want to get a book for myself."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry about this, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

Going to the bookstore did little to lift Ben's mood. Though he'd ended up picking out a couple of Hardy Boys mysteries, she'd recognized his slouch as they'd stood in line to pay for them. On the ride home, he opened one of the books and pretended to be reading. Beth was pretty sure he'd done it to keep her from peppering him with questions or trying, with forced cheerfulness, to make him feel better about his overnight at his dad's. At ten, Ben was already remarkably adept at predicting her behavior.

She hated the fact that he didn't like going to his dad's. She watched him walk inside their house, knowing that he was heading to his room to pack his things. Instead of following him, she took a seat on the porch steps and wished for the thousandth time she'd put up a swing. It was still hot, and from the whimpering coming from the kennel across the yard, it was clear that the dogs, too, were suffering from the heat. She strained for the sound of Nana inside.