Promises to Keep

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Promises to Keep Page 8

by Shirley Hailstock


  McKenna couldn’t believe how fast her head whipped around to face him. How could he know? No one knew her well enough to read her expressions, not even Marshall.

  “I was thinking about Marshall,” she admitted, regretting the words the moment they fell from her lips. Her husband was a subject she and Parker should not and would not discuss.

  “Do you still think of him every day?”

  McKenna noticed his voice was guarded. She waited a long time, deciding what to say, or if she would say anything. Finally, she spoke. “I moved his photo from my bedside table.”

  That was it, all she would say. If they went any further, they’d get to Marshall’s death and McKenna wasn’t sure she could keep her emotions under control if they did. She couldn’t help thinking of Marshall. He had been an important part of her life. It was normal, she thought.

  “That’s good,” Parker said.

  McKenna stared through the windshield. “What time do you think we’ll get to the next town?” She changed the subject.

  “I’m not sure. Are you tired?”

  She shook her head. The scenery hadn’t changed much in the past hour.

  “I suppose we should begin looking for a place,” he said. Parker glanced at her. McKenna could tell he was unsure if the remnants of last night’s encounter were still present in her mind. They were, but she pushed them as far away as she could.

  “I’m sorry,” McKenna said.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “For yesterday. For last night.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Parker told her. “You couldn’t know someone would break in. Be thankful we weren’t there and that we still have the car.”

  “I am, but...” she stopped.

  “But what?” he prompted.

  It took a while for her to speak. Parker’s compassion warred with her opinion of him. She expected him to be pragmatic, not tuned into how violated she felt.

  “How I spoke to you. I shouldn’t have been so...harsh.”

  “I can take it,” he said.

  McKenna knew he was shrugging off his true feelings.

  “I’m starting to think you can.”

  She was smiling when he glanced at her again. He smiled back.

  “I’ve never done anything like this, never even thought of it. But it might be fun,” Parker conceded. “Adventurous for sure.”

  Her smile widened as she looked at him. For some reason that she couldn’t explain, her heart did a tiny flip and Parker gripped the steering wheel harder.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “SINCE YOU’VE STUDIED this road, what do you think our chances are in this car?”

  Parker was driving. McKenna sat in the passenger seat. She felt weird in that spot. She hadn’t ever spent this much time in it before. She loved to drive and even while Marshall was alive, she was the main driver whenever the two of them went out together.

  Parker was competent. He drove the manual transmission like a pro. There was no initial start and stop before getting started whenever he was behind the wheel. He got in, adjusted the seat position and the mirrors and turned over the ignition as if he owned the car. McKenna was impressed.

  She didn’t tell him. Somehow she felt he expected her to say something. She didn’t know if he expected a compliment or some sarcasm. She said nothing instead. But she was impressed. Parker could help with the driving. It was much better than having Lydia along. She didn’t drive a clutch and her incessant conversation could drive McKenna batty at times. She’d gotten used to having Parker with her. And it surprised her how fast that transition had taken.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  She smiled, again feeling caught. “I was thinking about Lydia.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. By now she’s out of the hospital—”

  “I wasn’t thinking about her leg,” she interrupted.

  He glanced at her before looking back at the road. “I was thinking that I’m glad you insisted on coming along,” she confessed.

  His expression changed. His face became a mask, not a hard one, but a mask disguised to conceal the emotions going on behind it. McKenna couldn’t tell what was going on in his mind, but she was sure he appreciated the fact that she no longer resented him.

  She found he could almost be as stubborn as she was. Strangely, she liked it in a weird sort of way. She hadn’t fought with anyone since Marshall and while she and Parker didn’t have the same relationship, she felt there was much more to him than she’d previously thought. Sure, he worked on his computer a lot and for long times could be silent, almost oblivious to her presence, but she didn’t feel alone.

  Alone.

  Suddenly that word stuck in her head. She had been alone since Marshall died. She’d filled her days with work, never really allowing herself to think about anything. She’d spent her leisure time with friends and even when she was by herself, she’d always be doing something, reading, going over sales reports, checking inventory, completing emails or preparing for some event she was obligated to attend. And then there was the car. When she began restoring it, it took all her free time. She hadn’t yet given in to herself. She didn’t know what would happen if she did.

  * * *

  “DID YOU EVER play license tag?” Parker asked as an 18-wheeler roared past them, sucking the air behind the Corvette and pushing the small car slightly sideways. McKenna’s grip on the steering wheel kept them steady in the wake. The most traffic they had seen on the road so far was an occasional UPS or FedEx truck. These always quickly turned down a side street, heading for a local delivery. The 18-wheeler took the first turn that headed toward the interstate highway and was soon out of sight.

  “It was something to do in the backseat of a car on long trips. Why?” McKenna elongated the word as she glanced his way.

  “I was playing it silently, but it might make the miles go by faster if we did it together.”

  “No proper nouns or slang words,” she said, immediately setting down some rules.

  “That depends on the game,” he paused a moment. “If you play states, they’re all proper nouns. If you just play words, then your rules apply. If you play proper nouns only, then you use proper nouns. If you play first and last letter, your rules don’t apply.”

  “Apparently, you’ve made a study of this game. Did you travel a lot when you were younger?”

  “We often went on some kind of driving trip, whether it was in a car or on a bus. My dad took us on vacation every year. We’d play the game as soon as we got on the road.”

  McKenna saw a glow in his eyes when he talked about his family. She knew nothing about them.

  “Do you have siblings?”

  “A brother and a sister,” he replied. “Neither of them live close by. One is in Washington state. The other in China.”

  “They sound adventurous.” She made the covert contrast about him and his two absent siblings.

  “You could say that.”

  “What do they do?”

  “My sister is an engineer in China. On the side, she teaches English to Chinese children. My brother owns a ski lodge, but that’s only so he can go mountain climbing every chance he gets.”

  “It must be fun to have brothers and sisters. I’m an only child. Before my parents died, we used to go on a lot of trips. Some were by car, but most required an airplane.”

  Parker nodded.

  “Alone,” McKenna nearly shouted as she pointed at a pickup truck that moved pass them. “The license tag had LON on it.”

  “So we’re not using all the letters on the tag, only three of them?”

  “We can use all of them. In that case the non-proper noun using PHE LON is phone line.”

  “That’s two words,” Parker said.

 
“We didn’t establish a rule against the number of words.”

  “So you’re going to make up the rules as we go?” he asked.

  She smiled at him. “Isn’t that more fun?”

  “Sort of like this trip?” Parker added. “We go along until we find something interesting?”

  “Exactly.”

  The way he looked at her was disconcerting. McKenna wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but she feared his answer. She didn’t know what it would be and didn’t understand why she should be afraid of hearing it, but she was.

  * * *

  PARKER SQUINTED INTO the Western sun as he waited for his takeout order. He thought he saw her. He was sure it was the same girl. She was a wily one and always hid or concealed herself when she thought she might be seen. He’d glimpsed her before—twice. And he recognized the signs. If she lived along this part of the route, it would surprise him. But it wasn’t likely he would find out.

  He and McKenna were leaving in a week. Their lack of cash had slowed them down, but they’d found temporary jobs in a small Missouri factory town to supplement the lost income. McKenna would replace a worker on the floor of a sheet factory. Apparently her previous factory experience had gotten her the job. For an economics professor it wasn’t so easy. Parker found a temporary job through an agency with a gardening company. It was back-breaking work, but it paid enough for them to get to the next stop on McKenna’s flexible agenda. Like the game they played with the license tags, the agenda changed as often as the road signs.

  And that agenda was coming into play soon. The wheel was almost up and they’d be moving on.

  A crop of short dark hair that looked as if it hadn’t been combed in months poked out of an orange cap. Despite the weather, she covered herself completely—jeans, a shirt and a jacket, all of which were dirty. The first time Parker had seen her was at the gas station when he was filling the car. Stealthily she’d looked out from the door to the toilet, checking all directions before slipping through the small opening. She moved ghostlike around the side of the building and disappeared from sight. Parker told no one that he’d seen her.

  The second time was near the supermarket. It had been a long day and the sun was already set when he and McKenna went to buy salads for their simple dinner. The girl, who looked to be fifteen or younger, went around the back of the building. She had that same sly movement he’d seen earlier. Parker knew she was going to look for discarded and possibly rotting food.

  “Would you add a tuna fish sandwich on wheat and a large milk to my order,” he told the clerk at the deli counter in the supermarket.

  “Really hungry tonight?” McKenna asked, her brows arching upward.

  “No,” he said.

  She looked confused, but at that moment the clerk interrupted them. “What would you like on it?”

  Parker considered how lean the girl seemed. “Lettuce, tomatoes, mayo and a pickle on the side.”

  The clerk worked quickly and in seconds he was packaging their order. Parker asked for a separate bag for the tuna and milk. As they left the supermarket, McKenna looked at him skeptically. They were on a budget, but this was still within their daily allowance.

  They went to the car and McKenna got in, placing her food in the small crevice behind the seat. Parker did the same with one bag.

  “Got a pen?” he asked.

  McKenna searched through her purse and pulled out a marker.

  Parker reached for it. “That’s better than a pen.”

  He wrote on the bag. This is for you. Handing the marker to her, he started walking back toward the grocery store.

  “Parker,” McKenna called. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll only be a minute.”

  Parker didn’t see the girl. He walked behind the building. Maybe she’d moved on already. He assumed she would be by there again and soon. Placing the bag of food on the lid of a Dumpster, he left and returned to McKenna and the car.

  “What was that all about?” she asked as soon as he was seated.

  “Have you seen her?” Parker asked.

  “Seen who?”

  “The little girl. She’s a runaway.”

  McKenna searched around the area. Parker knew she wouldn’t see anything or anyone.

  “What did you do with the food?”

  “I left it for her. Behind the grocery store is a Dumpster. I left it on top for her to find.”

  “How do you know she’s a runaway?”

  “She’s not the first one I’ve seen.”

  Again McKenna looked around them.

  “It’s warm outside, yet she’s wearing a jacket. Her clothes are dirty, and she uses the gas station to wash up. I’ve seen her twice near places where there is discarded food.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s a runaway.”

  “Take my word for it.”

  McKenna looked at him strangely, but she didn’t push further.

  “Did she see you leave the food?’

  He shook his head.

  “How do you know she’ll get it?”

  “She’ll find it,” he said decisively. Parker shifted gears and headed for the bed-and-breakfast where they were staying.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING Parker left the girl another serving of food. For dinner, later that same day, he and McKenna went to the grocery store and bought her a bag of food: canned fruit, tins of vegetables and sausages that didn’t require cooking. Only the bread and milk were perishable.

  They didn’t see her, but the food from earlier had disappeared.

  “Do you think she’s all right?” McKenna asked after they’d left the second bag of groceries and returned to the car.

  Parker shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “We only have a few more days before we leave. What do you think she’ll do for food then?”

  “The same as she did before. She’ll scour Dumpsters and restaurant throw-outs.”

  “I wonder why she’s out here alone,” McKenna said, but her comment was directed more to herself than to Parker.

  * * *

  THE MOMENT SHE saw the girl, McKenna knew she was the one. Parker said she was a runaway. McKenna was sure he was right and that the girl was on her own—alone and more than likely in need of someone. “She probably believes we’re looking for her and that’s why we leave the food,” he’d said.

  Coming out of the factory, McKenna checked for Parker. He often met her in the parking lot. He was in the usual place, leaning next to the car, his legs crossed at the ankles, his face in a book. If he wasn’t typing on his computer, he was reading. As she walked toward him, he looked up and smiled when he saw her. McKenna returned it. They’d fallen into a casual routine and she was glad to see him.

  Lifting her arm, she waved and that was when she saw the girl hiding behind a large tree across from the parking lot. McKenna stumbled, but caught herself.

  “You’re late,” Parker said.

  McKenna ignored him. His voice was teasing as it usually was when he picked her up. “She’s there,” McKenna told him.

  “She? The girl?” His brows rose and he stood up straight. “Where?” He looked over his shoulder.

  “Exactly as you predicted. She’s hiding behind a tree on the other side of the road.”

  Parker started to turn in that direction, but McKenna pulled him back to face her. “Don’t look,” she whispered as if the girl could hear them. “You might frighten her.”

  McKenna stepped sideways to go around him. “I think I’ll go talk to her.” She glanced at Parker. “If she’s been abused, as you thought, she’ll be more receptive to me.”

  “Be careful,” Parker said.

  “Why?”

  “She doesn’t know your intentions. And she
’s scared. You don’t want to corner her.”

  McKenna nodded. Approaching the girl too quickly would surely make her run, so McKenna kept her distance. She went about putting her purse and the factory smock she wore over her clothes on the passenger seat. Parker got in the car, but she stood leaning against it and staring at the tree. Cars pulled out of spaces and people waved at her as they headed home for the evening.

  McKenna remained in place.

  The girl stayed behind the tree. Fear of others was the unknown factor for a runaway. In the girl’s eyes McKenna could be someone who’d make more trouble for her, or she could be friendly. The problem was, the girl didn’t know which one was the right answer.

  The girl’s appearance wasn’t totally unexpected. Curiosity must have forced her to come and find out. She would be ready to run, probably had an escape plan in place.

  The girl peeked out from behind the tree. Quickly, she moved back as she spotted McKenna standing in the same place. Waiting a full minute, she looked out again. McKenna hadn’t moved. This time the girl let herself be seen intentionally. She made eye contact with McKenna, but neither moved toward each other.

  McKenna wondered what her reason for running away was. Had she been abused? Where was she from, and how did she get to this part of Route 66? She wondered where the girl slept. Since she used public restrooms to wash up, she couldn’t have a real place to stay.

  “What do you want?” the girl called, startling McKenna.

  McKenna stood up and took a step forward. The girl moved back. McKenna stopped.

  “I don’t want anything,” McKenna hollered back.

  “Why do you leave the food?”

  “Because you’re hungry.”

  “What do you care?”

  McKenna turned around and pulled a bag out of the car. She held it up to the girl.

  “What’s that?” the girl asked. A look of apprehension went across her face, before it disappeared.

  “Do we have to continue shouting? I promise I’m not out to harm you.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” she yelled over.

 

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