***
It started even before they reached the church. Mary Abernathy stopped to stare openly as Ben helped Marsha out of his Cadillac. She wondered what Mary would think if she could have seen them at her house this morning, when Marsha handed Ben a set of freshly laundered clothes, including a pair of neatly folded boxer shorts. When they walked into the church, the usher raised his eyebrows, his curiosity obvious as he handed them bulletins. The music began just as they sat down, so Dianne Jackman was forced to whisper hello and turn to face forward instead of demanding an immediate introduction. Marsha tamped down a giggle and tried to compose herself into a properly worshipful frame of mind.
They stood to sing the first hymn, “Amazing Grace.” Marsha was pleased to hear Ben singing confidently in a clear baritone, harmonizing with her alto. During the sermon, Ben appeared to be completely absorbed, which Marsha found admirable considering the number of times Rev. Bowling lost his place and had to backtrack. Between watching Ben and avoiding the questioning looks from her friends, Marsha found it hard to concentrate, but eventually they sang the last hymn and received the benediction.
As soon as the final amen was spoken, Dianne turned around and offered her hand to Ben. “Hello, I’m Dianne Jackman.”
“Dianne, this is my friend, Ben Mayfield.”
“Hello. What a wonderful voice you have. Marsha, I certainly hope you’re planning on encouraging Ben to join the choir. Thom would love another baritone.”
“Ben is just visiting Sedona. Hello, Mary. This is Ben ….” The introductions continued as they were engulfed by more well-wishers and curiosity seekers. Marsha couldn’t be sure which were which, but Ben handled them all with a friendly smile and seemingly genuine pleasure.
Finally, they made their escape. “I’m sorry about all the fuss, Ben.”
“I enjoyed meeting your friends.”
She looked at his expression. “You do enjoy it, don’t you? I thought you were just putting up with it.”
“No, I like meeting new people. I wish I could have had a little more time to visit. They seem like an interesting group.”
“Well, maybe next time you come through you can spend time with some of them.”
He turned to look at her, a smile on his face. “Yeah, next time I come through.”
They decided on barbeque for lunch, and settled outside on the open deck of the smokehouse restaurant. Only two other tables on the deck were occupied. After a lively discussion on the relative merits of Texas barbeque versus Kansas City barbeque, they both ordered sliced beef sandwiches.
Once the server left, Marsha turned to Ben. “What’s next on your Route 66 itinerary?”
He pulled up the website on his cell phone. “I have to drive to Flagstaff to get back on Route 66. There’s a historic district in Flagstaff, and the Walnut Creek Bridge. Then it looks like another historic district in Seligman, and then a trading post. Oh, here’s a picture of the Durlin Hotel. Maybe I’ll sleep there.” He handed her the phone.
She flicked through some of the pictures along the route. “How long to you think it will take?”
“It’s an easy day’s drive from here to Los Angeles, but if I stop for each of the sites and spend a few hours exploring the historic districts, I’ll probably take three or four days to get to L.A., especially if I find any interesting characters to talk to. Then I plan to spend a few days exploring the city there.”
“It sounds like such fun.” Her voice was wistful.
Ben looked directly into her face, his eyes sparkling. “Come with me.”
Marsha’s eyes opened wide. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” He held up his hands, palms out. “No funny business, I promise. Separate hotel rooms, and I’ll pay for everything.” He gave her a beseeching smile. “Come on, Marsha, see Route 66 with me.”
Marsha was tempted. “What about Lindy?”
“Bring her with us. We can find hotels that take dogs.”
“I don’t know.”
“No more than a week to Los Angeles, and then I can bring you home or fly you if you want.”
Marsha bit her lip, but her eyes were excited. “Maybe I could.”
“Yes.” He pumped his fist in victory and grinned. “If we’re really having a good time, we could even explore California. Maybe see the redwoods.”
Marsha froze and stared at him.
Ben frowned. “Did I say something wrong?”
Marsha’s mouth trembled. She stood up and turned away, resting her hands on the deck railing. “I just … you…. I can’t do this.” Tears began to flow from her eyes.
Ben stood and stepped closer. “What? What is it?”
Marsha shook her head, trying to gain control, but her chest began to shudder.
“Shh. It’s okay.” Ben stepped forward and turned her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her head against his chest, sobbing. He held her, stroking her hair as she wept. “It’s all right, darlin’,” he whispered. “Go ahead and cry if you need to.”
Eventually her tears began to lessen and her sobs faded into a few small hiccups. He reached into his pocket and presented her with a blue bandana.
She accepted the handkerchief, wiped her face and blew her nose. She gave him a watery smile. “Thank you. You must be the last man on earth to carry a handkerchief.”
“Probably.” He laughed. “Are you feeling better?”
She looked around at the other customers staring at them and ducked her head in embarrassment. “Yes, a little. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, although I’m not sure exactly what I’m sorry about.”
“It’s not you. You’ve been so good to me, but I can’t go with you. I just can’t.” She took a deep breath. “Could you take me home, please?”
“Of course.” He left a couple of twenties on the table, weighted down under the napkin holder, and escorted her to the car.
They were silent during the drive. Ben kept stealing worried glances, but Marsha just stared at her hands in her lap. When they arrived, she jumped out of the car before Ben could walk around to open her door. She had reached the front porch before he caught her.
“Marsha, please wait.”
She stopped. Ben came to stand in front of her, reaching out and gently turning her face toward him.
“Darlin’, I don’t know what’s going on, but I can see you’re having a hard time. If I can’t help, I’ll leave you alone, but if there’s anything I can do, please call me. My offer still stands. I’d love to have your company on this road trip.”
She shook her head. “I can’t, Ben. Thank you for the wonderful offer, but I just can’t go with you. Thank you for today, and yesterday, and all the fun we’ve had.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
“Goodbye, Ben.”
She let herself into her house and closed the door. Then she collapsed against the door and the tears began once again.
Detour on Route 66 (Choices: Story Five) Page 4
