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John Stockton had that one magical summer.
    But apparently, she’d been wrong. About everything. Her husband’s treachery had come at her like a train out of a black tunnel. Though she may have felt the rumblings, she had willingly believed his lies and excuses right up to the day she had come home from school early and found him and his young lover in her own bed. She didn’t think the pain would ever end, but she hadn’t really had time to process all the hurt because that’s when her dad’s health took a nosedive. Within months, they were both gone. All of them, actually. First, Sam, then Abby, then her dad.
    She shook her head as if to physically clear away the memories the way one would shake a dust mop to get rid of the dust. She flipped a switch and was relieved when light filled the small room. True to form, her dad had made sure the gasoline-powered generator was full and in good repair the last time he’d left the cabin. He had come up here alone after Abby married and moved to Italy. Beth knew he was happy for Abby, having found the love of her life, but she thought that maybe he had also come to grieve the loss of his best camping companion. By then, he’d known his time was getting short, so he’d jokingly told everyone he was going to the cabin to pray for great-grandchildren to be born quickly.
    “I’ll fly to Italy and personally feed them oysters if that’s what it takes!” he had boasted. But everyone knew he hated to fly. It was a huge family joke that was told every time anyone had to make a trip.
    When he and her mother had flown to Niagara Falls for their honeymoon, the plane had experienced electrical problems and had to return to the airport. Everyone had sat quietly while an electrician was brought on board to fix the problem.
    After an hour the electrician packed up his tools and departed. That’s when the captain had jovially announced that he thought they had the problem fixed and they would soon be underway.
    “You think the problem is fixed?” her dad had asked incredulously. Then, so the story goes, he had collected his new bride along with their new carry-on luggage and several dirty looks, and he’d gotten them the hell off the plane.
    Half an hour later, Tom and his new bride, Carrie, had been driving up the interstate in a rented Lincoln Continental listening to Boston on cassette and talking about where they would stop for the night.
    They’d finally made it to Niagara Falls, but by the time they got there, they had experienced a whole blissful week of driving and stopping and seeing the United States of America. He said they had spent only one gorgeous day and night in Niagara before gathering up the checked baggage that had made the plane trip without them. They’d lost their huge honeymoon-suite deposit for being so late, but he claimed they had never regretted one minute of the trip.
    Her dad always said that was the way everything about his married life had been: absolutely no regrets. They were married only three years before Beth was born and her mom perished from toxemia.
    Pushing her brown hair off her forehead, Beth vowed to cheer up. Her dad had managed when her mom died, and it would be letting him down if she couldn’t pull herself up out of the mire now. Besides, he’d always assured her that there was life after death. They hadn’t been churchgoers so to speak, but he’d instilled in her a deep respect for God, the creator of all things, and time and again he’d assured her that her mom was with God and the angels. And, one day, they would all be there, reunited.
    Beth sighed. She believed everything he’d taught her; she’d taught Abby the same things—but it was just so hard to accept that he was gone. Now this . . .
    Exhaustion had to be the reason for the hallucination on the highway. That had to be it. She blinked and her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. She adjusted the propane-fueled heater that would have the little cabin toasty in no