Chapter 1

Six months ago, the women had met at a book club in their hometown of West Chester, a college town forty minutes outside of Philadelphia. The three of them quickly discovered that though they came from different backgrounds—Cathy, a guidance counselor; Betsy, a teacher; Linda, an ER nurse—they had similar tastes in literature. They often found themselves at odds with the club leader’s choices, which seemed to begin and end with novels about sex-crazed vampires. As Betsy noted, “It was almost enough to put me off garlic for life.”

So, the women decided to form their own book club. As the group became known for freewheeling and fun discussions, women of all ages started signing up. While the three of them enjoyed being involved with the book-loving community, the administrative aspect of the book club, given its popularity, was wearing thin. They hoped to make a decision about the club’s future on this trip.

More importantly, it was also a time to grieve for Alice, the fourth founding member of the club, who recently died of cancer. Near the end of her life, she had made the three women promise to go together to Georgia O’Keefe’s Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, New Mexico, a place especially important to her and spread her ashes there. To fulfill that promise, they elected to rent an RV and drive out, camping along the way. The women were a little uneasy about spending that much time cooped up in a camper, especially since they knew nothing about RVing. But they decided to view it as an adventure. Stifling a yawn, Cathy glanced at the dashboard clock. “It’s getting close to midnight. We need to figure out where we want to camp and...shit!” she suddenly yelled, stomping on the brake as the RV veered almost out of control. “Hold on!” For a long, anxious moment, it felt like it was going to tip. It swung back and forth across the road, with Cathy frantically pumping the brake pedal.

Chapter 4

As Linda and Betsy got closer to the RV, Betsy asked Linda, “What is that sitting on our front step?”

Linda peered ahead and then laughed. “This must be the year of the dog. I am fairly sure that is Charlie, the dog Ben told us about. He looks a little woebegone right now,” she added, noticing his droopy posture and bowed head. She whistled and called “Charlie!” He immediately perked up and ambled over to them.

Linda smiled down at him. “There is something about basset hounds that gets to me. They are such nice, easygoing dogs.” Charlie leaned against her leg and gazed up at her. She laughed and reached down, stroking his head and long ears. He made a low humming noise and closed his eyes.

Just then, Cathy walked around the RV, saw Charlie, and came to a standstill. He glanced at her and then slid down Linda’s leg into a relaxed heap at her feet. Squatting down beside him, she continued to pet him. Cathy and Betsy exchanged glances.

“What?” said Linda. “What does that look mean?”

“It’s just that we’ve never really seen you with a dog before.”

“I like dogs,” said Linda defensively. “There are just some dogs I like more than others.” Betsy started to say something but then thought better of it and said nothing.

“Well,” said Cathy, “the good news is that we have this campsite for a week.”

“Yea,” Betsy cheered. “I just want to sit and look out over the river and relax. I love the peace and quiet here.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Linda. Just then Charlie rolled onto his back and lay there with all four legs in the air. He started snoring loudly almost immediately.

Betsy asked, “Did someone mention peace and quiet?”