Chapter 20
Sheryl and Peaches stand back, giving my mother and I some room. “You have to call me,” my mother says again, her fingers digging into my arm. “I won’t be able to wait for four days without hearing from you.”
“He can’t call you, Mrs. Kent,” Alistair says, standing by the van—a Dodge minivan he insisted we rent for the trip. “We’re not bringing cell phones, remember? We didn’t have them in 1994.”
My mother briefly shuts her eyes, obviously holding back from arguing with him. She knows it would be pointless anyway.
He’s planned everything. Every detail has been thought of. We’ll be recreating the trip, almost minute by minute. He’s made me write everything I remember in his journal, and that’s the schedule we’ll be following.
“It’s seven A.M.,” he says, checking his watch. “W
