The Travelers (47 page)

“I am.” She turns to her husband, leans forward, takes his hands in hers. “Listen, Will, I have to go. I don’t know—”

“I’m coming,” he cuts her off. “I’m coming with you.”

Chloe turns to Malcolm, who asks, “Are you sure about this, Will?”

He’s not. But his old life doesn’t exist anymore, his old wife. This is what’s next, he can accept it or reject it. Will always says yes to everything. He nods.

“Okay,” Chloe says, “good.” She stands, straps on her backpack. “I’ll explain on the plane. Now, we have to hurry.”

They start to walk away, but too fast, too conspicuous, so Will grabs Chloe’s elbow, gently, says, “A little slower.”

They make it only a couple of steps before Malcolm yells, “Hey!”

They freeze, look over their shoulders.

“Let’s be careful out there.”

They both attempt smiles, then resume walking.

Will realizes that without making the conscious decision, he is carefully scanning the terminal, an involuntary new habit in his involuntary new life, looking for people who are looking for him, his eyes playing across the same crowd that’s always in airports, tourists in sensible walking shoes and businesspeople in wrinkled worsted wool, everyone resigned or restless or exhausted or excited, on vacation or on business or on the run, but not one of them seems to be searching for Will, they’re a crowd of thousands occupying their own private worlds, deep inside their own plans and problems, thinking about their own destinations, all of us travelers, all on our way to someplace else.

The Travelers
is a novel about work, about labor, and I’m typing these acknowledgments over Labor Day weekend, so I’d like to thank all the people whose labor has made my life easier or better during the two years I’ve been working on this book, and, in particular, those who educate my kids in one way or another:

At P.S. 41, fourth-grade teachers Chris Strouse, Katie Zarkin, and Kristian Blum; fifth-grade teachers Nancy Wahl, John Baird, and Emily Cacciapaglia; guidance counselor Bob Caputo; parent coordinator Michelle Farinet; and principal Kelly Shannon.

At Greenwich House Music School, Joseph Ries; at Gilsports for Kids, Gil Rubin; at Greenwich Village Little League, Todd Irwin, Rob Magill, Tom Mullarkey, Frank Saracino, and Carin Ehrenberg; and at Veritas, Alex Wenger and Lee Reitelman.

At OYC, Willa Cassidy-Gardner, Allison Ferraris, Cooper Nefsky, Sarah Morton, and Cindy McKinney.

And, in general, Vera Pavone, Harriet Rhine, Susan McIntosh, and DeCourcy McIntosh.

And, of course, thanks too to the people who helped make this book better, or at least less bad: Matt Bromberg, Angus Cargill, Terry Deal, David Gernert, Adam Goldberger, Hannah Griffiths, Pat Herbst, Jane Lauder, Nate Roberson, Adam Sachs, Lindsay Sagnette, Molly Stern, Zachary Wagman, and, as always, Madeline McIntosh.

And to those who helped launch the book into the world: Sarah Breivogel, David Drake, Kayleigh George, Maya Mavjee, Donna Passannante, and Rachel Rokicki.

Finally, thanks to my son Alex for coining the name Stonely Rodriguez, which he invented for an actual stone that he adopted from a beach in the summer of 2014, a stone that his brother Sam later dropped from the car window on Main Street in Belfast, Maine, where we hope Stonely is living a long happy life.

Chris Pavone is author of the
New York Times
bestsellers
The Accident
and
The Expats,
which won both the Edgar and Anthony awards for best first novel. Chris grew up in Brooklyn, graduated from Cornell, and was a book editor for nearly two decades before moving to Luxembourg, where he started writing
The Expats.
He now lives again in New York City with his wife and children.