“What’s funny?” Martha glanced up from the menu with a smile.
“Nothing.”
Martha ordered ice cream, and Josh did the same. “What was Brian’s favorite food, Kathleen?” Martha handed the menu back. “Are you a good cook?”
“I’m an appalling cook. Brian wasn’t overflowing with talent in that area either. Liza was always the one who showed a skill in the kitchen. She still does. She treats food like art. Everything she puts on the plate looks pretty.” Had she ever praised her daughter for her cooking skills? That day she’d sped down to the West Country after Kathleen’s accident bearing a casserole, had Kathleen even thanked her? She had an uncomfortable feeling that she might have said something impatient.
Liza had probably thought her rude and ungrateful. It was only now with some distance that she could understand the reason for her less than admirable behavior. She’d been terrified. Terrified that they might persuade her to sell her home and move into residential accommodation. Terrified that it might, in fact, be the best decision for her.
The house had been the best gift Brian had ever given her, apart from love.
When she’d finally accepted his proposal, he’d taken her on a car ride to Oakwood and pulled into the curving drive.
I’ve found a house with nothing between you and the sea.
The fact that he’d understood her deep need for independence and freedom had cemented her decision to marry him.
She hated the idea of staying in one place, but then she’d fallen in love with her cottage by the ocean. It made her feel that she was on the edge of a journey. That she could sail away at a moment’s notice.
Why had she not said that? Why had she not said, Liza, I’m afraid.
Because she handled life by not letting it get too close.
In their last phone conversation Liza had said I love you, and what had she said in return? Not I love you too, even though she did love her daughter very much. She’d said I know you do.
It was evidence of Liza’s great love for her that she hadn’t given up on her mother.
Kathleen’s heart ached.
She should do better. She would do better.
She watched as Martha dipped her spoon into Josh’s chocolate ice cream and he tried her strawberry.
Sharing. Sharing was an essential part of fostering a good relationship. It wasn’t enough to tell Liza she loved her, she had to show her. Actions meant so much more than mere words, although of course words mattered too.
She needed to show Liza that she trusted her and valued her opinion.
And there was a good way to do that.
She needed to ask her daughter to read Ruth’s letters.
She needed to be honest about the past.
17
MARTHA
AMARILLO~SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO
Martha glanced in the mirror. They’d spent the morning touring Amarillo’s historic district, and now Kathleen was sleeping in the back of the car as they headed across the top of Texas toward New Mexico.
Since her dizzy spell, Kathleen had been more subdued. The day before they’d driven from Oklahoma City to Amarillo and Kathleen had dozed for much of the journey. Martha had asked if she was feeling quite well, and been told that she was, but she’d insisted on an early night, leaving Martha and Josh to spend another evening together.
Josh had suggested a steakhouse, but Martha hadn’t wanted to be too far from Kathleen, so they’d ordered in pizza again, played cards and watched a movie.
“Do you think she’s matchmaking?” Josh had asked at one point but Martha had shaken her head.
“I wish she was. She’s very unlike herself. Anyway, I could never be with someone who didn’t eat the crust from the pizza.” She eyed the crusts on his plate and he shrugged.
“I hate crusts. Give me gooey cheese any day. This is a tiring trip for her. Could be that.”
“Maybe.” But Martha didn’t think so.
She felt uneasy. She had a strong feeling that the reason Kathleen felt out of sorts wasn’t physical, but emotional, and it didn’t feel right to share that with Josh.
Was she thinking about Ruth? About the letters? They’d talked about it enough for Martha to know what a big deal it was.
She glanced in her mirror again and saw Kathleen’s head resting against the back of the seat. Sleeping?
Martha turned her attention back to the road.
To stop herself worrying about Kathleen, she focused on Josh. “What are you going to do at the end of this trip? Are you worried that you don’t have a job to go back to?”
“No.”
“I admire you. Must feel good to be able to walk out and slam the door in your boss’s face, metaphorically speaking. Not many people would do that. I’m guessing he won’t give you a reference—” She glanced at him, saw something in his face and suddenly she knew. “Oh—”
“Oh what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s you, isn’t it? This awful boss of yours—”
“I never said he was awful.”
“Scary and focused then. It’s you! You were the boss.” She felt foolish and embarrassed. “I see it clearly now. The way you paused a little too long when Kathleen was telling you what she thought of your ‘boss’, as if you weren’t sure whether to defend him or not. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because this is a vacation.” He sounded tired. “I needed a break from it all. Work. Being the boss. All of it. I didn’t want to talk about it.”
This car was crowded with things no one wanted to talk about, Martha thought. And what good did that do? Kathleen had obviously been carrying the weight of her past around with her for decades. As far as she could see, nothing got fixed by burying it.
“So basically although you’re hitchhiking, you’re a gazillionaire.”
“I never said that.”
“But you’re super successful, and not exactly having to wonder where your next meal is coming from.” And she almost wished she hadn’t figured it out because now she felt intimidated.
No way would she have a fling with someone like him.
They were totally wrong for each other, and not only because he didn’t eat the crust from his pizza. He was a career person. Driven. Probably ruthless. The type of man who chose work over a good time. The type of man her mother would kill to see one of her daughters with.
That itself was enough to put Martha off. He probably had a million qualifications. He’d judge her, the way her family judged her. He’d tell her to get a proper job and take life seriously. With him, she’d never feel good enough.