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“Never.”
“Didn’t you say that you were ready to embrace new experiences?”
“Not that kind of new experience.” Martha wiped her fingers and scrunched up the bag. “Are you done?”
“The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced this is a wonderful idea.”
“The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it’s the worst idea in the world.”
“But it would cheer me up. Would you really deny a frail old lady some happiness in what might be her final days?”
Martha rolled her eyes. “I do not respond to emotional blackmail. And if you carry on trying to pair me up with every man we pass, these will be your final days.”
“This convinces me that we need to be spontaneous. I hate to see you so suspicious.” Kathleen patted her on the arm. “We never really know anyone, dear. You and I both have experience that supports that.”
“Mmm.” Martha took some photographs with her phone.
“All we can do is take a chance.”
“Kathleen, this is ridiculous.” She lowered her phone. “All we know about him is that he ‘needed a change of scenery’. Maybe he murdered someone. He could be on the run.”
“But have you seen him close up? Those eyes.” Kathleen finished eating and scrunched up the bag. “What a way to go. And anyway, you’re lucky enough to be traveling with a woman who beaned an intruder with a skillet, so you should feel very safe.”
“I think that experience might have given you a slightly overinflated opinion of your own self-defense skills.”
“This is my trip—it’s up to me who I invite.”
“I’m the driver. I could go on strike.” And then Martha realized she was using all the wrong arguments. “Anyway, there is no room in the car. He tops six foot. Long legs. Not that I’ve been looking—”
“I’ve seen you looking.”
Martha sighed. “There is no way he is fitting in the back.”
“He doesn’t have to. I will fit in the back perfectly and he can sit in the front with you.”
“I’d be trapped with him.”
“Exactly! You never know—the two of you could be a perfect match.”
“That would be a miracle.”
“A good relationship doesn’t require a miracle. It requires the right person at the right time.” Kathleen slid her sunglasses onto her nose. “Onward.”
12
KATHLEEN
ST. LOUIS~DEVIL’S ELBOW~SPRINGFIELD
Kathleen closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.
She hadn’t been exactly honest with Martha when she’d said she was fine. She didn’t feel fine at all. Her insides were all churned up, and it had nothing to do with the pulled pork sandwich. Thoughts and feelings that she’d managed to outrun for so many years had all finally caught up with her. They seeped past all the barriers and buried themselves in her brain where she couldn’t shake them off.
It was that conversation with Martha that had started it all. Why hadn’t she shut it down?
It was Martha, of course. Her warmth and kindness had a way of melting all Kathleen’s usual reserve. Shrimp on ice. No matter how serious the topic, Martha still managed to make Kathleen laugh.
And now she couldn’t stop thinking about Ruth.
