Sam and I make quick business of showering, dressing, and packing all my gear. He runs back to his room and throws his things together, and then helps me carry everything to the lobby where Ryan and Tanner Fielding then hurry the camera gear down the dock to load into the floatplane while I check out.
I don’t even have time to be terrified at the prospect of flying in a plane that takes off and lands in water because my phone—my phone that had been wrapped up with Sam’s in the bathroom while we charted each other’s territories—is absolutely clogged with voicemails and text messages from Gabe and Lainie as they tried to reach me last night.
Dad had a stroke or heart attack while golfing in Bend. They’re airlifting him back to Portland.
Frankie, CALL ME.
FRANCESCA, WHERE ARE YOU?!
Frank
