Finding Me (8 page)

“Two of Ashley’s grandkids have the stomach flu—apparently so does her daughter. She called me and asked if I could take over so she could help out, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Maybe it’s time you think about selling this place.”

“And do what?”

“Spend your days fishing. Learn to relax a little. You’re sixty-two. A lot of people retire at sixty-two.”

Did Shane know something or was he just talking? “Sit around by myself and get old, you mean. You can peddle that snake oil somewhere else.”

“Then why aren’t you getting serious about hiring someone to replace Frieda? Today is the perfect example of why you need another person.”

“Frieda didn’t work Saturdays anyway.” He made a point of looking Shane up and down. “You’re looking downright pretty.” He nodded slowly and grinned. “Fancy-looking dress shirt and khakis. I’m betting there was a tie at some point today. The real estate business is making quite the fine gentleman out of you.”

“Quit trying to change the subject. Why wouldn’t you hire Ronny? He was perfect for the job.”

Ronny was a nineteen-year-old that Shane had sent in a couple of days ago. He was nice enough, but it was the point of the thing. Nobody was going to tell Kenmore who to hire in his own store. “I didn’t like him.”

“What didn’t you like? He’s young and strong enough to lift heavy things that you can’t lift anymore. He has some experience with a cash register. Comes from a nice family. What’s not to like?”

“I don’t like the idea of him. I told you, I don’t need to hire anybody. I’ll do just fine here.” Kenmore walked out of the office and into the store proper. “How’d your walk-through of the Miller place go?”

“‘Needs a fair amount of work’ is a gross understatement.” Shane pulled a piece of bubble gum out of a jar on the counter. “I’m not asking you to hire a complete staff, I’m just saying replace the one you had.”

“I’d rather do the extra work myself than have someone underfoot and driving me crazy.”

Shane shook his head. “How did such a nice guy like me get such a stubborn old coot for a father? I must have my mother’s genes.”

“Your mother took stubborn to a whole new meaning, I guarantee you that. She could . . .” The rest of the argument died in his throat. “Stubborn about different things, though.” He looked toward his son, the result of her stubborn resolution to carry her baby to term, even when the doctors said it was too dangerous. Even when they were proven to be correct. Kenmore shook his head, and something between a choking sound and a laugh came out of his throat. “I wonder if she’s not up in heaven now, making a stand about something she feels strongly about.”

“Yeah, like telling the angels to come down here and tell you that you need to hire some help. I’m sure she’s on my side, we all know it.”

“I’ll tell you what, you start praying that God will send me somebody that won’t get on my nerves. When that person walks in, I’ll hire ’im on the spot. Until then, you’re wasting my window space with that ridiculous sign.”

“Okay, okay, I give up.” Shane tossed up his hands in surrender and jumped down off the counter. “I got that new smoker set up. You ready to come home and have some ribs?”

“Let me just sweep the store real quick.”

“I’ll do that while you finish up whatever else you’ve got to do. A man could starve to death waiting on you to get closed up.”

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them walked out to the parking lot in amiable silence, but Kenmore knew it was not the silence of resignation. Shane was determined to see some help hired at the store, and when it came to being stubborn, Kenmore had more than met his match in his son. Still, in this case, he would prevail. There wasn’t really any other choice.

Kelli put her suitcase in the back of her car and closed the hatch. It felt so weird to be taking off like this, but she wouldn’t have any peace until she made some attempt to sort out the past. “Well, I guess I’m off.” She held out her hands, palms up, and shrugged, hoping this gesture would keep Denice from guessing exactly how freaked out she was.

“Oh, sweetie.” Denice reached out and hugged her. “I really, really wish I were coming with you.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Denice pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen. Worrying is what I do, we all know that.”

“Yes, I guess we do.” Kelli reached out and took her friend’s hand. “I promise I’ll obey all traffic laws, drive safely, and avoid talking to strangers—at least until I reach Tennessee and actually find the strangers I’m making this trip to go talk to.”

“What about your route? Do you have it all mapped out?”

“Today’s route, anyway. I’m going to hit I-40 and end up somewhere around Flagstaff, Arizona. It’s about nine or ten hours from here, so I think it will be a good stopping point.”

“Stop before then if you get too tired.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” Kelli did a military-style salute.

“Did you make reservations for a hotel?”

“No, I decided not to, in case I need to stop earlier.”

“Not later, though. Promise me you won’t go any farther than Flagstaff.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that. You know I’ve never been one to enjoy driving. I’m pretty sure I’ll be prepared to turn around and come home by that point.”

Denice folded her arms. “I hope so. As I’ve said before—”

“—This is not a good idea.” Kelli finished the sentence with her. “Relax. I promise I’ll be careful.”

“Okay.” Denice squeezed Kelli’s hand. “We are here for you, you know that, right?”

“I do. Thank you.” Kelli gave her friend one last hug, then climbed into the Fiesta and drove toward her past.

11

K
elli was exhausted and stiff by the time she saw the distant mountain peaks she knew surrounded Flagstaff. She kept her eyes focused on her goal as the sun sank beneath the horizon and the world turned dark.

She found a room in an older downtown hotel, then went in search of something to eat. It was almost eight on Sunday evening, but a fair number of people still roamed the sidewalks. She was happy to join them and work out some of the kinks from a long day in the car. The streets in the area were lined with small cafés and pubs, with music spilling out from several nightclubs.

Finally, she found a diner, ’50s themed, which was mostly empty. She sat down and ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake, knowing she would regret this high-calorie splurge, but for tonight, she was willing to pay the price.

She pulled up a note-taking app on her phone and began to type in a list of plans for when she arrived in Tennessee. She made a column header:

What are my goals for this trip?

To actually lay eyes on my mother, brother, and/or sister.

To find out as much as possible about what happened without telling anyone who I am.

I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY need to find out the reason my father did this.

To come back home and pick up my life without looking back.

Even as she typed out the goals she knew that meeting any or all of them was going to be difficult. At least by making this trip, she would always be able to say she had done everything in her power to find out what’d happened. She could move on without regret at not having done something.

That was the hope.

“Here you are.” The waitress was a teenager, long hair, bright eyes. “Need anything else?”

“No thanks.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll check back in a few minutes.” She nodded at the milkshake in the old-fashioned soda glass. “You better watch those things. They’re addictive.”

“They look it.”

The waitress walked over to the next table and began wiping it down, humming beneath her breath. It was so easy to be happy when you were young, innocent, and didn’t know your entire life had been a lie.

Kelli picked up a French fry and started another list:

What am I going to say when people ask me why I’m in town?

Just traveling through (seems lame and unlikely)

Visiting some friends (except in a small town like that, people are likely to ask who I’m visiting)

Looking for inspiration for my jewelry collection?

Kelli looked down at the bracelet on her wrist. She did make bracelets and necklaces in her spare time. Sometimes she even
sold them at craft fairs, but it was not even a real hobby, just something she did when she felt like doing it. Still, she could come up with some sort of story about hoping to start her own little business and wanting to be inspired by another part of the country. It was weak, but it might work if she couldn’t come up with anything else.

Then again, why not just tell the truth?

Looking for my long-lost family

She erased the last line almost as soon as she’d typed it, but somehow putting down the words made her feel better.

By now, the screen cover on her phone was smeared with greasy fingerprints, so Kelli set it aside and concentrated on the burger and fries in front of her. After she ate, maybe she would go for a walk, try to burn off a few of these calories, and figure out more of a plan.

Daddy always had this goal of driving Route 66 from Los Angeles
to Chicago. Every summer he would declare that this would
be the year, pull out a handful of maps, and start planning. He would wax eloquent about all the old
Americana we’d see along the way, then he’d go into one of his tirades about how people were too used to immediate gratification and that freeways, along with the Internet, were mostly responsible for the downfall of modern society. Every summer, Mimi would tell him something to the
effect of “Have a nice trip.” She was never much
of a car traveler, and certainly not when it involved two lanes and traffic lights. Those things didn’t much
appeal to me, either, so I always took her side and wished him well on his solo journey.

He never went.

Now, here I am in Flagstaff, Arizona, where part
of Route 66 runs directly through the center of town, less than a block from the hotel where I am staying. There are signs about it everywhere, all over the
interstate, all around Flagstaff. What I wouldn’t give now, if I had taken him up on that trip.

He spent plenty of time doing the things I wanted to do, that much was for sure. It was selfish of
me not to return the favor. Maybe if we had
done this thing, this long road trip that Daddy chose, maybe we would have talked in a way that we never talked. Maybe then, in the midst of doing what
he wanted to do, away from all the pressures of his regular life, maybe then he would have opened up to me and told me I had another family.

I went for a walk tonight after dinner. I walked beside
the very road where we might have had that talk. This car drove by, and there was a teenage girl
in the passenger seat, and her father was driving. I
started screaming, “Tell your daughter the truth. Tell her before
it’s too late.” They kept driving. If they heard
me, they gave no indication of it (probably thought I
was crazy or drunk). It occurred to me that it
really wouldn’t help anything if I ended up in jail for disturbing the peace, so from then on, I walked in silence. The same kind of silence my dad
chose for the past twenty-four years.