“Cali—” Liza choked. “Are you kidding? That’s a twelve-hour flight.”
“I won’t be flying all the way. I’m taking a road trip across America. Route 66.” The moment she said the words she felt her insides lurch with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Was this bold or foolish?
It didn’t matter. She’d waited long enough. Too long. She wasn’t going to let the past stop her from doing something she’d always wanted to do.
But even without the emotional pressure, it was an ambitious trip. There were days when her bones ached so badly she could barely drag herself from her bed, and here she was blithely talking about driving two thousand four hundred miles—she hated thinking in kilometers—as if it was nothing more than a trip to the village.
Sean was the first to speak. “Exciting. How can we help?”
Dear boy.
Liza opened her mouth but Kathleen spoke first. “I’d appreciate a lift to the airport when I’ve made all the plans.” She almost asked for help booking her flight, but she knew she’d have to find the confidence to do that herself. Ridiculous that the thought of a flight booking scared her more than a road trip. She found it impossible to believe that pressing a button and inserting a credit card number was enough to ensure her a seat on a plane.
Liza finally found her voice. “Route 66? You can’t possibly be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. I’ve already done the research.” Kathleen thought about the box file under the desk in her study, bulging with maps and guidebooks.
“But why California? If you want sunshine, then come to the South of France with us. Or is it because you want to see Ruth after all these years?”
“I don’t know if Ruth is still there. She might have moved, or—” She might be dead. At their age, it was a distinct possibility. But this trip wasn’t about Ruth. Kathleen had no wish to see her, and she was sure Ruth would feel the same way.
The past could never be undone.
“I don’t want sunshine. I want adventure. And I’ve wanted to do Route 66 for a long time.”
“So why didn’t you do it?”
“It never seemed to be the right time.” Kathleen kept her reply purposefully vague. “But now it does.”
Liza appeared to be struggling for words. “You’re ignoring one very big problem.”
There were a million problems. It made her dizzy to think of them all, but she was determined to handle each and every one.
She’d beaned an intruder with a skillet. She was confident she could handle anything that came her way, even an uncomfortable set of memories.
“I have a passport, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s right here in my bag.” She closed her fingers around the handle and pulled it a little closer.
Liza glanced from her mother to the bag. “You carry your passport with you?”
“Yes.”
“To the village shop? To the post office?”
“I have it on my person at all times.” Not that she’d traveled anywhere for years, but carrying her passport around made her think she might.
Liza looked aghast. “What if someone snatches your bag?”
“What will they do? Clone my identity? Frankly they’re welcome to it, providing I can have theirs and they don’t suffer from creaking bones.”
Her daughter shook her head. “You don’t just need a passport, Mum. You need a driving license. A road trip across America requires you to have a car and drive it. You don’t drive anymore.”
Kathleen sat up a little straighter. “Then I’ll need to find someone who does.”
4
MARTHA
“Will you at least listen to me?”