Pen remembers it all. It was 1968. They took a family vacation to Sanibel. Pen’s father drove the station wagon. He held the wheel tightly and gritted his teeth and smoked cigarettes when he wasn’t gritting his teeth.

Pen’s mother sat in the front seat. She wore a blue scarf and black sunglasses and kept saying, “Slow down, Cal. What’s the point in speeding? This is a vacation, right? You’re supposed to be relaxing. That’s what the doctor said. Relax.”

Pen and her brother Thomas sat in the back seat.

It was a big back seat; but Pen felt…