Promises to Keep

by Shirley Hailstock

  He nodded. “That, too. But if you think you’re going to wait me out, I’ve already thought of that. I’ll park my SUV right in front of your garage. You can’t get this baby...” He looked approvingly at the upholstery. “Out of the garage without me knowing it. So you might be able to outsmart me and leave some other way, but it won’t be in this car.” Again he looked at the Corvette, checking the back over his shoulder. “She is a beaut. If she drives as well as she looks, I take my hat off to you. Lydia told me you built it from the ground up.”

  “I’m not here to listen to your compliments.” McKenna sighed and propped her elbow on the open window, resting her chin in her hand.

  “What’s it going to be? The road or breakfast? I’m hungry.”

  McKenna got out of the car and went through the laundry room door into the house. Rage surged through her, giving her an instant headache. This is not how she had planned to begin her trip. Excitement had soared through her system last night. It was difficult to fall asleep. Details of her impromptu plan had run through her mind like a relay team handing off a baton, one runner after another. When she did sleep her dreams were peppered with images of Parker and Marshall. And now here Parker was, in the flesh, making her crazy.

  She stood in her kitchen feeling useless. What was she going to do? She could try waiting him out. He had to get tired of blocking her driveway soon. But the determination with which he’d said he was going told her he was serious. She could call the police and report him as a trespasser. She wasn’t without friends on the force, but then Parker also had his contingent of buddies, too. One of the drawbacks of living in a small town.

  She was going, she told herself decisively. This was her life and she wasn’t going to let him spoil it. Turning quickly, she walked back to the garage. Parker was sitting where she’d left him, tapping away on a laptop computer. He’d apparently adjusted his duffel bag, since the seat now sat flush with the back of the car. His apparent nonchalance angered her further. He really was a stick in the mud and a stubborn one at that.

  “All right,” she said, holding back none of the venom from her voice. “You can go.”

  He didn’t look up from his work.

  “But there are rules.”

  “Rules?” He continued to focus on the screen.

  “This is my trip and we go with my decisions. You don’t question them and you don’t try to overrule me. This is not a vacation and we’re not a couple.”

  He nodded, still not looking at her. McKenna wanted to grab the computer from him and snap it closed. He was not going to spoil her plan, she told herself. She’d spent years building this car. She was ready. Every detail had been planned up to this day. From here to the end, it was life as it came. She hated to admit it, but Parker had now become part of the life as it came scheme.

  Opening the door to the car, McKenna slid into her seat. Parker closed the laptop and turned to her. “I have some rules, too,” he stated.

  Surprised, she opened her mouth to say something, but before she could speak, he continued. “First, you will afford me the same respect that you would give to Lydia. You will talk to me with the same tone of voice that you would if she were here instead of me. I’m not going to go 2,400 miles fighting all the way. And don’t...” He stopped her when she was again about to say something. “Don’t tell me to stay here, because that’s a decision that has already been made.”

  McKenna was taken aback. She’d never heard Parker speak with such force. Deep down it excited her to know he had a backbone somewhere. She’d always thought of him as weak and quiet, interested in nothing but being a dull college professor. Yet he really lived too well for that. At least, too well to subsist on a professor’s salary.

  His home was huge and he drove a late-model SUV with custom appointments. He also had a sleek sports car that he roared along the highway in. McKenna had seen him once when she was on her way out of town.

  “All right,” she conceded. She had been rude to him and that wasn’t like her.

  He smiled. The moment held for a second longer than necessary. Then Parker quit it when he turned back in his seat and opened his computer.

  “There’s one more thing,” McKenna said. She couldn’t believe she was about to say this, especially to a man she didn’t even like. “If we’re going to be together for most of the hours of the day, you can’t just sit there like a silent rock.”

  “You want me to talk to you?” he asked, looking at her.

  “Not especially. But if you’re going to go with me, I don’t want to be the driver and you the professor critiquing me the entire way.” She shifted in her seat. “Parker, this is the trip of a lifetime. It’s a chance to see a part of the world in a way we haven’t seen it before. It isn’t about driving. It’s about the landscape, the countryside, talking to people, enjoying what God gave us.” And learning about ourselves. The last she kept to herself.

  “You’re asking a lot of a restored car and an old road. Are you sure that’s the real reason?”

  McKenna hesitated and then decided to tell him the truth. “It’s not the entire reason. It’s about me, too. Who I am.”

  He frowned.

  “I’m not going into any further explanation. It’s personal, but I want to find something in myself that I’ve lost. Can you understand that? Don’t just let the scenery go by without giving it a look.”

  After a minute, he nodded. She felt as if he was going to reach out and touch her. But he didn’t.

  For a moment she was both grateful and disappointed. It had been three years since a man had touched her. Except for bumping into Parker a few days ago and finding his arms holding her, she’d hadn’t been close to a man. That small incident had reminded her that she missed it.

  “Well, McKenna Wellington, it’s time to start your engine.”

  * * *

  IT DIDN’T TAKE long for the busy downtown streets of Chicago to morph into the rolling hills and open spaces of the countryside. It took longer for them to reach it, however. If McKenna had left on time, she’d have missed rush hour traffic. But her spat with Parker delayed her and she and Parker had to negotiate the bumper-to-bumper medley to get to the beginning of the journey. But they were on it now.

  And her anger was almost gone. Her argument with Parker had given her a headache, but it was easing now. She’d forced herself to relax, forced her shoulders down and her breathing to return to normal. She’d even begun to play a silent game with the license tags on vehicles that passed her. It was something she used to do with her parents when they went on vacations. McKenna learned a lot of words and it was fun to stump her parents.

  She smiled while remembering that as a tag went by with the letters F-T-R on it. Immediately she thought of the word father. After that the words came quickly and her headache was soon forgotten.

  Parker hadn’t said much since she started driving, but he also hadn’t opened his computer and resumed his editing job. McKenna began to feel bad. She wasn’t usually angry at people. It was only around Parker that her temper seemed to get the better of her.

  She searched for something to say. They had little in common. He was friends with Marshall, although McKenna could never figure out why the two liked each other. Marshall was outgoing, fun loving and always up for a challenge. Parker was the stay-at-home type. He categorized everything, didn’t speak much, at least not to her, and judged everyone and everything.

  “Are you planning to teach in September?” McKenna finally asked.

  “I am on the schedule,” he said.

  “Suppose we’re not back by then?”

  He glanced at her. “Still trying to get rid of me?”

  “That’s not it,” she lied. She did want to get rid of him, but figured that plan was now dead. “I have no particular timetable I’m working with. I’m free as a bird and winging my
way wherever the wind blows.” She tossed her hair to one side, suddenly feeling the exhilaration of the journey.

  “If we’re still out on the road by then, I’ll make the decision to either leave you high and dry or get someone to cover my classes.”

  He was smiling when McKenna looked at him, but she couldn’t read his face. McKenna had always avoided Parker. He and Marshall often arranged to meet at a restaurant or Marshall would go to his place and pick him up when they went out. Now she couldn’t tell if he was being facetious or serious.

  He checked his watch. Then he pulled out his cell phone.

  “Who are you calling?” she asked.

  “I thought I’d check on Lydia. She should be awake by now.”

  McKenna reached over and took the phone from him. She turned it off and dropped it in the unused ash tray.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “No cell phones, except in emergencies. We’re out of touch with everyone. If there’s an emergency, someone else will have to deal with it.”

  “But I promised Lydia I’d call.”

  “She’s going to be fine. We both heard the doctor say so. I ordered flowers to be sent to her this morning with a card that said I was leaving today. She’ll know why you didn’t call. And even if you did, what could you do?”

  “You can’t honestly expect to drive all these miles without using a phone.”

  “Why can’t I?”

  “Suppose you need something? Don’t you have to check in occasionally and let people back home know you’re all right?”

  “No one needs to know unless there’s an emergency. We can use pay phones if necessary. But I don’t want to be pulled into the minutia of life back in Woodbine Heights. If something’s going on there we can’t fix it.”

  “You’re a real surprise, you know that?”

  “What do you mean?” McKenna asked. Her stomach clenched, ready for another of his compliments couched in a joke.

  “I never would have thought anyone like you would try doing what you’re doing.”

  “What do you mean, ‘anyone like me’?”

  “Don’t get your back up. I mean you always appeared so grounded, so much a person who knew where everything was. When you were running the company after Marshall’s death, from what Lydia told me, you were a perfect CEO, dealing with projections and next year’s forecast, new products and all the duties that come with being in charge. Now you’re driving off into the sunset with no set plan and only a few maps.”

  He looked in the small pocket in the door. McKenna had stashed the maps there.

  “What is this?” She pulled a plastic container from the side of his seat.

  “A DVD cover. Lydia gave me the entire set.”

  “Of Route 66?”

  He nodded. “She was going to watch the old TV series, maybe duplicate Tod and Buz and their adventures in their red-and-white Corvette. She thought if I watched them it would make the trip more interesting. I loaded them on my computer.”

  “Tod and Buz?” McKenna raised her eyebrows.

  “The characters’ names in the series. Two guys, traveling the southwest and living off the land. Every episode was an adventure.”

  “That’s right,” McKenna said.

  “And you’re on your own adventure now?” he asked.

  “I guess this means we both are.”

  “So which one are you, Tod or Buz?”

  McKenna smiled for the first time. “Since you’re the guest here, you should choose first,” she said.

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head. “This is your fantasy. And I know nothing about Buz or Tod. You choose first.”

  “Tod was the sensible one. He was blond and logical, always thinking the situation through.”

  “Like a CEO?”

  She nodded.

  “So Buz was the dark angel? The one who shot first and discussed it later.”

  “Right!”

  “I guess that makes you...”

  “Buz,” she answered for him.

  He laughed, a hearty, belly laugh that McKenna found very pleasing. But then she remembered Marshall’s laugh and it reminded her that she would never hear it again.

  And part of the reason for that was Parker.

  * * *

  IT HAD STARTED ALREADY, McKenna acknowledged. She sat up straighter, mentally shaking herself.

  Parker had begun to talk. The two of them had had a civil conversation. McKenna couldn’t remember that ever being the case. They’d passed each other or avoided each other for years. Now she was sitting next to him, close enough to feel his body heat and smell his cologne. Who would have thought he even wore cologne? Or that he’d speak to her as if they were friends.

  They pulled into a gas station and restaurant in Litchfield, Illinois. The Belvidere Café, Motel and Gas Station was closed and the building decaying, the pumps gone, but McKenna recognized it from her research. Only the café remained. The sign on it was faded and worn. Awnings, sporting areas of rust, hung over the windows.

  She got out of the car and walked toward the brown-and-tan brick one-story building. Her feet crunched on the gravel path that had once led to a parking lot and motel rooms. Not even a ghost of them remained.

  “At this rate,” Parker said. “It’ll take months to get to the coast.”

  She looked at him. “Yes, it will,” was all she said.

  Pulling a camera from the back of her seat, she took photographs from every angle.

  “Are you planning to write a book with all these photos?”

  She snapped one of Parker. Moving the camera down so she could see his life-size image, she said, “They are only for my benefit. Memories of the trip.”

  Parker smiled, at least McKenna thought it was a smile. His lips pulled apart, but he said nothing, scrutinizing the building as if it had become more important thing in the world in the past three seconds.

  “Give me the camera. I’ll take one of you next to the building.”

  She did as he suggested, then went to stand below the faded sign.

  “Not there,” Parker directed. “Over here.” He pointed to the space next to the building’s single step. She moved to where he indicated. “I can get the sign and you and the building at the same time.”

  McKenna wondered if she should smile. She decided to do so. This was a fun trip and she felt as if they were getting somewhere, even if they were only an hour out of Chicago.

  She heard the click of the shutter opening and closing.

  “Don’t move,” he said as she began to come forward. “I’ll get a few more. The building is interesting, now that I’ve had a chance to look at it.”

  Parker took several more shots before McKenna stopped him. She offered to take photos of him, but he declined.

  Turning to focus on the building, McKenna thought of Marshall. This should have been his trip, their trip together. She’d considered taking it with him. The two of them had talked about it. Yet somehow the business always came first, except— McKenna stopped as Parker walked into her view. She frowned.

  Parker had been with Marshall last. The ski trip. McKenna didn’t like skiing. She was pretty good at ice-skating, but she felt the huge skis were unwieldy. And she hadn’t wanted to be around Parker. So the two men had gone off together.

  But only one had come back.

  “McKenna!”

  She jolted at the strength of Parker’s voice.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his tone calmer.

  “Fine,” she said. He must have seen the look on her face. Thankfully he couldn’t read her thoughts. At least she hoped he couldn’t.

  “You looked as if you were thinking of something painful.”

  “It’s just the sun.” She squinted
at the sky. The sun was high and bright, although it wasn’t the cause of her pain.

  “Maybe we should get something to eat or drink,” Parker suggested.

  “Are you hungry already?” she asked.

  “Not especially, but I would like something to drink.”

  McKenna had a small cooler behind her seat. It held six small bottles of water. She didn’t mention it.

  “Good idea,” she said.

  “Wow, what a car,” someone said from behind Parker.

  McKenna whipped around. A short man with white hair and an even whiter beard stood next to the Corvette. He was dressed in worn but clean jeans and a T-shirt bearing the faded logo of a Budweiser beer can.

  “I haven’t seen one of these in ages,” he said. “You folks driving The 66?”

  McKenna had never heard the road referred to as The 66 before.

  “We are,” Parker replied.

  “In this?” He indicated the car, admiration evident in his tone.

  “That’s our intention,” McKenna stated.

  His eyes came up, but his head didn’t move. He reminded McKenna of a professor she once had who looked over his glasses more than through them. He was the one who told her she had no aptitude for mechanical drawing.

  “Where’d you get this? Hasn’t been made for years.”

  “Decades,” McKenna corrected.

  “The lady—”

  “My husband and I planned it.”

  She and Parker had spoken at the same time. McKenna was unsure why that happened. Marshall had been on her mind and the words were out before she thought about it.

  He looked at Parker. “No stuff?” he asked.

  “None,” Parker smiled, but did not correct the mistake.

  Still, McKenna decided, she liked the man.

  “In my youth, I used to work on cars. Lived back in Detroit then. Ford was my company. Never worked on one of these babies.” Again the man looked at the car as if it was a past lover.

  “Any idea what the road looks like ahead of us?” Parker asked. Apparently the pragmatist was rising to the surface again.

  “It’ll be all right for a few miles, but be careful. With a low car like this, you could pull the chassis right out from under her.”