“I guess you’ll be staying here the night and leaving in the morning,” the sixty-year-old said from across the room. He’d returned to his table and so had the older woman he was with. “It’s best to do the driving during the day.”
“I agree,” McKenna said.
“You’ll like the hotel. Not many people there now. Give us a couple of weeks and the place will be overrun with travelers heading somewhere. Most stop because of the sign.”
“Sign?” Parker asked.
“Yeah, didn’t you see it? It’s a big billboard leading people here.”
Neither of them had seen a sign saying anything like that, but Parker nodded as if he had.
“Mind if I go out and take a look at the car?” The thirtysomething stepped in front of the table and asked his question. It was a moot point, since there were already people outside, but he showed he had manners.
“Be my guest,” McKenna said.
As the rest of the admirers filed out, the waitress shooed the others away from her and Parker. “Give them some room,” she said. “They came here to eat. The rest of you go back to your own meals.”
Only people who knew each other well could talk to each other like that. And only in a small town. Her words were taken to heart and the onlookers returned to their places. A couple of them joined the gathering on the sidewalk at the car. McKenna and Parker dug in to their meals.
“Can I ask you a question?” Parker said after a few minutes of silence.
McKenna’s heart pumped a little faster. “Sure,” she answered.
“Are you afraid?”
“Afraid of what?”
“Of this trip? Of going into the unknown?”
“I’m not leaving the planet,” she laughed, buying herself some time.
Parker sat back in his seat. “I know you get upset when I mention you’re a woman, but barring that point, you were willing to go off on this trip alone. You have no idea who you’d meet along the way. And in that car...” He glanced toward the window. “You could be putting yourself in real danger.”
“There’s always the highway. It’s my backup plan, but I don’t expect to use it.”
“You could get stuck somewhere and the highway may be too far to reach, like the older gentleman mentioned. If anyone comes along, they may have another agenda.”
McKenna shuddered at the coldness of his words, but she wouldn’t let him know. “Parker, if I concede that I am a woman, vulnerable and weak compared to a man, would you let this be the last time you mention my gender in relationship to safety?”
He stared at her for a long time. Then he nodded.
McKenna sipped her drink and set it on the table. For a moment she thought about what she wanted to say. “I do have some anxiety about the unknown,” she said. “I suppose it’s natural to be afraid of what you don’t know. But it’s also exciting. I’m going over ground that’s known as America’s highway. This is how our parents traveled. In cars, without credit cards, iPods or global positioning systems.”
“Wait a minute. What do you mean no credit cards?”
“No credit cards. We’re doing this strictly with cash.”
“What if we run out? And with no set dates, there’s no way to gauge our spending. It’s inevitable that we’ll run out of money somewhere.”
“Spoken like a true economist,” McKenna said, unable to resist the barb.
“What is the big deal with using credit cards?” he scoffed. “From the videos I’ve watched and what Lydia told me, those guys you’re emulating had plenty of money.”
“Cash. They had plenty of cash. When they didn’t have any, they got jobs and worked until they had enough to get to the next town,” McKenna explained.
“That’s only because they were too stupid to carry plastic.”
“That’s because they were free and had no real address. They were rich enough to have lawyers and accountants to take care of things at home while they went out and discovered the world.”
“You do realize that was a television program and not real life?” Parker said.
McKenna scowled at him. “We’ll only use the cards if there is absolutely no other choice. Or we need medical services.”
“You’re making this trip intentionally hard.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
“Let’s not go there.” He paused. “We’ve been doing fine being civil to each other.”
She dropped her shoulders. “All right, I apologize for my remark. But we’re not using credit cards. I have ample cash. And if we do run out, we’ll find jobs and do what Buz and Tod did.”
“You are crazy,” he said.
“I’ve been accused of worse.”
CHAPTER FOUR
PARKER DIDN’T KNOW whether to kick himself or to explode with laughter. He’d long admired McKenna Wellington, although her opinion of him was rather cool. She was brave and competent. He knew this in the way she’d taken charge after her husband died and kept their business operating. For the families working for them, it kept food on their tables and a roof over their heads. But he didn’t know about this wild streak in her.
When Lydia told him her scheme to drive Route 66 all the way to the beach, he’d thought it was a passing notion. That a woman with her responsibilities and her earnest nature would eventually see the impracticality of such an action. But he’d learned that once an idea got into McKenna’s head, she flew with it and only changed it when she knew there was absolutely no way it would work. So far she hadn’t learned that about this expedition. At least not yet.
He’d been appalled when he learned that Lydia was going to go with her. He had reservations about the two of them traveling alone across the country. Life wasn’t as safe now as it had been when Route 66 was a popular television show. But Lydia proved as stalwart as McKenna in her determination to accompany her friend.
Parker didn’t know whether Lydia’s broken leg was a good thing or a bad thing. It had kept her home and opened the door for him to at least do what he could to keep McKenna out of trouble. So far everything had gone smoothly. After the scene in her garage, they’d spoken to each other without arguing too much.
The road, too, hadn’t been that bad. Speed limits were lower than they were on the major highways so their miles covered were less than normal, but that was to be expected. He also had to admit that he liked watching the scenery. He hadn’t been on a car trip since he was a child with his parents, usually en route to camp or to visit his grandparents. His trips as an adult had been on airplanes or trains. And often he’d had his head buried in a book. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel when they got to mile 2,400, but he’d take it one mile at a time for now.
McKenna was an enigma. Most of what he knew about her came from his friendship with Lydia and the few parties where they’d both been guests. He and Marshall were friends, and while Marshall talked about her, it was her work he usually focused on. So far Parker knew she was headstrong and had a plan, even if she did think she was Buz. However, there remained 2,000 miles in front of them. He’d certainly have the chance to get to know her better. And maybe change her mind about a few things.
The motel they found to spend the night in must have been built before there was a national highway system. The place was a small collection of cramped cabins. The beds were twin-size and the sink hung from a wall in the corner. Above it was a dark mirror that barely reflected an image. Parker already knew he was longer than the bed. Sleeping wasn’t going to be comfortable.
McKenna was in the cabin next to his. Quickly he checked the window, noting the view as if he was in a high-rise luxury hotel overlooking Lake Michigan. What he saw was the next cabin thirty feet away, weathered and sporting walls of chipped paint. He wondered if the locks still worked on the doors and made a mental note to check McKe
nna’s.
The knock on his door reminded him that he and McKenna were going to go for a walk. He let her in. She’d changed clothes and appeared as fresh as she had that morning when they left Chicago.
“Ready?” she asked.
Nodding, they headed out. The motel was on Route 66 and they strolled back toward the town. It didn’t take long for them to reach the main street. It was a quiet town outside of Carthage. He noticed the name on the sign said Wheaton. They crossed a bridge over the Wheaton River and walked up a tree-lined street.
“Pretty,” McKenna said. It was the first thing she’d spoken since they’d begun walking. The silence was companionable. Parker thought it best to let her take the lead. This was her adventure. She lifted her camera and took a picture.
Again, they lapsed into silence. Parker searched his mind for something to say, but could think of nothing. As they passed a library made of red brick, he asked, “Is this what we’re going to do in every town? Find a place to stay, eat, take a walk and a few pictures?”
“We’re going to do what feels right, feels natural.”
“This feels natural?”
She nodded and smiled.
“You are a strange one,” Parker said.
“Strange, how?”
“I suppose I never thought you’d do something like this. Where does this wanderlust come from?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes. I do.”
“When I graduated from high school, I wanted to study languages. I wanted to travel the world, learn all about other people and other cultures. I wanted to talk to people and find out how they lived. I wanted to hike in the mountains and spend time in a small town. Instead, I studied business, married Marshall, learned about batteries, automobiles, robotics, acid corrosion, and never went farther than New York City to an auto convention. So, after Marshall died, I stepped up to save the company. But I thought about how short life is and if I was ever going to do the things I wanted to do, I had to do them now.” She glanced at him. “How about you? Was economics what you wanted to do from the beginning?”
He took a moment to answer, remembering the dreams of his youth. “I always wanted to teach. At first I was going to teach grade school, but when UC offered me a job, I took it. Been there ever since.”
“Nothing more? You didn’t want to race cars or fly airplanes, sail out into the lake and swim to shore?”
He laughed. “Or drive 2,400 miles to the beach?”
“Something like that.”
“I did.” He sobered. “I wanted to write music. Maybe play in a band. Instead I write textbooks.”
McKenna stopped and turned toward him. “That’s wonderful. Why didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t practical.”
“Who told you that? Your father?”
His eyes widened at her perception. “He said playing in a band was fine for weekends, but I needed a profession to fall back on. So I studied accounting and finance. I liked economics and took more courses in it. In graduate school I tutored other students. And finally I got the offer. It was practical to accept it.”
“Parker, you need to do the impractical. Life is too short to walk the straight line.” The last sentence was delivered quietly but with a passion so strong it reached out and touched him.
They didn’t discuss it any further, but mutually agreed to return to the motel and get a good night’s sleep. Parker thought about what she’d told him and what he’d told her. He’d nearly forgotten his dream of being in a band. Of course, he had a music collection to rival the best, and he enjoyed picking out a tune on the piano, but he’d lost that drive to write music. He spent all his time correcting papers and preparing the next edition of his textbook or some paper that needed publishing. He hadn’t tried his hand at a song in years.
And now, with McKenna, being part of her dream made him regret the death of his own.
* * *
MCKENNA STOPPED ABRUPTLY just before they reached her cabin. Parker looked at her. Her face was frozen in horror, her mouth open.
“What?” Parker said.
She pointed rather than spoke. Then she took off in a fast run. A second later, Parker followed.
“McKenna, no,” he shouted.
The door to her cabin stood wide open and she was about to enter. Horrible thoughts went through his mind. Someone had been in her room. They could still be there. She could walk in on a robbery in progress. They could have guns or knives. Parker stepped up his pace, but she was already through the door.
He rushed in behind her, knowing it was the wrong thing to do. She’d stopped short. He plowed into her back, his arms going around her waist and picking her up off the floor. Pulling her out of her room, he pinned her against the wooden wall with his body. He both felt and heard her breathing. It was hot against his neck. She resisted, but Parker held her tight.
“Someone could still be in there,” he whispered. “Let me go first.”
Parker released her and looked around. The room was empty and in a shambles. Someone had thrown her clothes all over the place.
“Stay here,” he ordered, extending a hand behind him. He was ready to push her back if she tried to move.
Going to the bathroom, he found the small space trashed, but empty. Approaching the closet door, he found it, too, had only clothes strewn on the floor. Nodding to McKenna, she pushed away from the doorjamb and rushed to her locked bag she’d evidently put in the bottom dresser drawer. It was now lying open on the floor. The locks were broken. She sank to her knees, rifling through the inside, searching but not finding what she sought. Her shoulders dropped in defeat.
“It’s all gone,” she said. Her voice flat, resigned and unemotional. “My cash, traveler’s checks, everything.”
Parker assumed she would have broken down and cried, but her eyes were dry. There was nothing she could do to remedy the situation.
“I’ll call the police,” he said. He picked up the phone and let the office know that they needed the police.
“What about your cabin?” McKenna asked when he hung up. “Is everything all right there?”
He hadn’t thought of his own belongings. “I’ll be right back.”
Parker went to his cabin. McKenna followed him. It was a mirror of hers, clothes strewn over the floor as if someone had been searching for something.
“What about your computer?”
“It’s in the car.”
They both turned and ran to the Corvette. It was fine. Nothing was out of place. The computer was in the concealed area behind the seats. Parker lifted it out.
“I don’t think we should leave anything in the car from now on.”
McKenna reached in and removed the DVDs and portable player that Lydia had planned to use before her accident. They went back to McKenna’s cabin. Automatically, she began packing her things back in the suitcase.
“Don’t do that,” Parker said. “Wait for the police.”
She stopped.
“What’s missing?” Parker asked gently.
She turned to him. “Other than the money, a few pieces of jewelry. Nothing sentimental. I left all that at home. I have some cash in my purse. That’s all that’s left.”
Parker nodded. “At least we can get the money back for the traveler’s checks.”
McKenna turned her back on him, whipping around as if she were a spinning top. “What’s wrong?” Parker asked.
“My book is gone.”
“Someone stole your book?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can get another book,” Parker told her.
“The receipt for the traveler’s checks was in it,” she said flatly.
Parker wa
nted to go to her and tell her everything would be all right. He wanted to take her in his arms, but he stayed where he was for a long moment. Then his feet carried him across the space and he pulled her against him. Dry-eyed, she leaned into his shoulder, her arms circling his waist. Together they stayed that way for a few seconds. When they heard the police arriving, they separated.
The cops took a report. There was little more they could do than that. The robbers had stolen the cash. Both of them had their credit cards with them. McKenna had very few clothes and although they were scattered about the floor, nothing except the money was missing. She told the two police officers who arrived that she’d brought a few pieces of jewelry, earrings and a necklace, but they’d been in the car and were safe. Parker related a similar story. Nothing had been taken from his room.
Soon the police were gone, leaving behind their apologies and telling them it was unlikely that the culprit would be found or the money returned. Once the officers had pulled the door shut, McKenna went back to packing. Her hands moved methodically, but Parker could tell she was shaken.
“Let me help you,” Parker said.
McKenna did not change her position. He crouched to the floor and helped her retrieve her strewn garments. When everything was in the canvas bag she used for the few clothes and toiletries she’d brought, she got up from the floor and walked to the small dresser containing a mirror that looked as old as the Mother Road itself.
“Parker?”
Again he wanted to go to her, enfold her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right, but he stood where he was and said nothing.
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