The Summer Seekers

“If you’re about to reason with me then don’t waste your breath. I know what I want.”

Martha pulled over, swerving into a parking space in a manner so decisive that Kathleen was forced to shoot out a hand to steady herself.

“I thought your driving was vastly improved, but it seems I was premature in my assessment. I have no idea why you’re stopping. We should keep going, moving forward.”

Martha unclipped her seat belt and turned. “We’re visiting Ruth. She’s expecting us. But we’re going to wait here for a few minutes.”

“For what? You work for me, Martha. I decide on the itinerary.”

Martha reached between the seats and touched Kathleen’s knee. “This must be very scary—”

“Don’t soothe me, Martha. It’s patronizing.”

“I’m being a friend. Just as you’ve been a friend to me on this journey.”

Kathleen felt her eyes sting. Sand, of course. They’d spent too long near the beach. “Nonsense.”

“If it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have met Josh. I was so busy protecting myself I would have missed out on all the fun we’ve had.” Martha’s eyes twinkled. “Not to mention the best sex of my life.”

Josh cleared his throat and slid down in his seat. “Is this really—”

“Yes, it is.” Martha ignored his discomfort. “We’ve all done things that felt tough on this journey. I picked up a hitchhiker and deleted Steven’s number from my phone—”

“And about time,” Kathleen muttered.

“Josh went rafting—”

Josh pulled a face. “Not sure I want to relive that.”

Kathleen sighed. “Since when did this become a competition?”

“It’s not about competition. It’s about the support of friends. And you won’t be on your own today. We’ve got your back, Kathleen.”

She felt a strange pressure build in her chest. “You are nowhere near my back. You young people are so careless with language.”

“I know you’re scared of seeing Ruth,” Martha said. “You’re scared of feeling things you think you can’t handle, but you can handle them, Kathleen. You’ve handled so much already. And if you don’t do this, you might regret it.”

“I will not. I make a point of never looking back.”

“But this isn’t looking back. It’s looking forward. You and Ruth will be building something new.”

“I’m eighty. It’s a little late to be building something new.”

Martha raised her eyebrows. “This from someone who drove two thousand four hundred miles across America? If it’s not too late for that type of adventure, how can it be too late to call on a friend?”

“She’s a stranger, Martha. I haven’t seen her for almost sixty years so don’t romanticize the relationship.”

“You had a deep and special friendship. That kind of bond doesn’t go away.”

“Your generation are so emotional.” Kathleen fiddled with the strap of her bag, kneading it, twisting it. “Fine, let’s do it. It will be a disaster, and then I will take great pleasure in firing you.”

Martha smiled. “If it goes badly, you’ll need me as the getaway driver.”

“If I’m relying on your driving skills to escape then we’re all doomed.” What should she do? Martha was right, of course. She was terrified. Seeing Ruth could rip open everything. “In case we have a major falling out, I should probably give you this now.” She leaned down and retrieved the parcel she’d tucked into the car a few days earlier. “It’s a thank-you.”

“A thank-you for what?”

“For not singing even when you were bursting to do so. For humoring a cantankerous old lady on the trip of a lifetime. For being the best company. And for smiling even when you were terrified.” She saw Martha’s eyes fill and waved a hand. “No! No crying.”