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.”
“We will,” Parker said.
Both shook hands with the man and got in the car. He waited until they drove away. McKenna saw him still standing in place until the car turned the corner several blocks away. Not far from the Belvidere was the Ariston Café, also on Route 66, although the facade was reminiscent of The Alamo in San Antonio. The café had opened its doors in 1935 and was still operating.
After the photo session, which McKenna repeated, she and Parker had lunch there before getting on the road and continuing their journey. During their meal, they didn’t mention the subject that was on McKenna’s mind. She wondered if Parker thought of it, too.
When they were back in the Corvette, she finally brought it up.
“Back there,” she began, not indicating where she meant on the road behind them or any of the places they had been since beginning this journey. “When the old man assumed you were my husband.”
He glanced at her. Since McKenna was driving, she couldn’t look at him for more than a second.
“Why didn’t you correct him?” she asked.
For a while, Parker didn’t say anything. McKenna glanced at him twice.
“He kept talking and he was so admiring the car, I didn’t think anything of it. Did it bother you?”
“No,” she said. It wasn’t exactly the truth.
“Why did you bring it up, then?”
“Well,” she hedged. “I thought it was the polite thing to do.”
“Then I’d have to explain to someone not of our generation that we were traveling companions, but not lovers.”
This was not going the way she assumed it would. McKenna was sorry she’d made a point of it.
“You don’t think he’d understand?”
“I don’t think he’d believe it.”
“Why not?”
Parker didn’t reply. When coaxed, he said. “Let’s just say, you should look in the mirror once in a while.”
McKenna was still wondering what he meant by that when the sun was going down. She knew he was married and divorced. She felt slightly uncomfortable that he hadn’t spoken up to correct the old man’s impression of them, but then, neither had she. And she had no reason that explained her own silence.
“Are we going to drive during the night?” Parker interrupted her thoughts. “Or only while there’s daylight?”
“During the day,” she said. “I want to see what can be seen and not have to wonder about the road.”
“Good idea. Glad we’re on the same page with that,” Parker said.
* * *
PARKER