29,800 ~ 32,400

The text message arrived a little after 11pm. Sam was reclined on one of two queen size beds in a Microtel on the east side of Lexington watching the Cincinnati Reds lose to the San Diego Padres. Kate had taken over the other. Her phone was plugged into the charger and lay on the bedside table. The phone buzzed and vibrated bringing Sam to life. She fumbled for the phone and disconnected the charger cord with a well-practiced movement. The screen showed an incoming message from Holly.

‘Ruth Ann Miller. Maiden name Goldman. Class of ‘ 68. Graysonville KY. Please don’t contact me again’.

Oops. Well, Holly had come through. Liz had come through. Malin was wrong. Sort of. Maybe contacting Holly and showing up out of the blue wasn’t the best idea, but it had gotten her the information she needed. Sam sat and starred at the message for a moment longer. She read it and re-read it. Unbelievably, she had her next lead. And she might actually know where Ruth Ann Goldman MILLER was right at this very moment. Sam clicked off the message and opened her navigation app. She let her current location auto-fill - she couldn’t have remembered the address if she tried - and typed Graysonville, KY into the ‘To’ box. Sam crossed her fingers and hit ‘Find Route’. She’d been lucky this far. Hopefully Graysonville wasn’t all the way on the other side of the state. After a nearly interminable ten seconds, the route populated. According the Mapquest, Graysonville was seventy-eight miles or eighty-seven minutes away.

Sam set her phone down and clicked the button on the night stand lamp. The room went dark, illuminated only by the screen on her iPhone. A moment later that light too went out and Sam was left in the blackness of a near frigid hotel room. She pulled the covers up over her head; getting up and turning down the AC would have been easier but would have required stepping out into the cold for a moment. At the moment, Sam wasn’t up for that. She turned her back to her phone and her desire to call Malin. It wasn’t even yet midnight and it was what? Tuesday? She’d still be at the bar cleaning up and closing down. Sam longed to tell her about her amazing new lead and very next day might lead her to Ruth and her search might be over. This time the next day, Sam might be on her way back to Minnesota, to her mom, Allison, Jeff, and the kids. And Malin. Of course, she didn’t want to be on her way back to Lindstrom and Center City, did she? She should want to be heading back home to Austin. When had she left Austin? Sam thought a moment. Saturday morning, four days ago. Four long and short days ago. She’d talked to Jean about the bucket list wish on Sunday, then she’d started this adventure early Monday morning.

It had only taken two days. Had it only been two days? Was it really just a day ago that she was at Chris’s house in Muskegon? Was it really just a day ago that they had found the letters and the picture and Sam had decided to drive to Cincinnati? Sam tried to wrap her brain around the past twenty-four hours. She’d gone from knowing nothing to knowing where Ruth lived as a child, where she went to high school, where she went to college, her married name, AND her last known address. Sam let her mind drift back to the hearts Evelyn had shown her - ‘R.G. + J.T.’.

She’d been so busy at the school district office, driving to Lexington, fighting with Malin, and finding Holly that she hadn’t given them another thought. Laying there in the pitch darkness, her mind clear of all thoughts except Malin (damn, Malin), Sam wanted to know what it all meant. Her mother had never mentioned anything about having a ‘girlfriend’ as a child, nor did she let on that her friendship with Ruthie had been anything but a friendship when she asked Sam to find her. Then again, how much did Sam really know about her mother? Jean was tight-lipped and not one to share too much other than general stories about her life before she married David and had Allison and Sam. She seldom talked about friends or connections with other people, at least not in the way Sam did. Of course, Jean wasn’t one to have many friends anyway. After three years in Lindstrom, as far as Sam knew, Jean’s only friend was Allison. But apparently, once upon a time, she’d had a good friend, a very good friend, a good enough friend to send Sam on a wild goose chase throughout the American Midwest and Kentucky searching for her.

Sam through the covers off and jumped out of bed in one movement. She pushed the button on the lamp and suddenly the room was once again filled with light. She grabbed her sweatshirt off the chair and put it on. She pulled the hood onto her head and found her room key and car keys. She glanced at her phone, but decided to leave it in the room. If she took it, she’d be more tempted to call Malin and she didn’t want to call Malin. If she missed Malin’s call (maybe she would call Sam on her way home from work), so be it. Malin could wait for her for a change.

Sam left her room and jog-walked to the stairs at the end of the hall. She trotted down two flights of stairs and shoved open the exit door. The cold hit her almost instantly. Spring in Lexington was a little different than Spring in Texas. Sam exhaled and saw her breath illuminated in the orangy glow of the parking lots lights. She picked her pace up to a jog and a few strides later was at the Xterra’s passenger side door. She opened the door and popped open the glove box. She’d put the picture and the letters in there for safe keeping. Sam studied the picture again. It was almost surreal knowing that she had been on that very same stoop just that afternoon. She looked at Jean and then at Ruthie. Ruthie’s arm was around Jean’s shoulders and Jean’s elbow rested on Ruthie’s knee. They were clearly close.

Sam shuffled the picture to the back of the stack and peered at the first letter. It was addressed to ‘Jeanie Taylor’ in what Sam assumed was typical 1960s young teen cursive writing. The seal on the envelop had been broken or tampered with. Someone had read this letter and Sam assumed it wasn’t Jean. This must be the letter that started it all, thought Sam. Or stopped it all to be more specific. Two of the other letters were addressed to ‘Ruthie Ann Goldman’ in a teenage version of her mother’s writing. They were stamped, seemingly ready to be mailed, but remained sealed. The fourth letter was once again addressed to ‘Jeanie Taylor’ and like the two destined for Ruthie, they were stamped, ready to be mailed, and still sealed. Sam held each letter up to the light and then shuffled them to the back of the stack. She took one more look at the picture and pulled the first letter from the stack.

Sam sat down on the passenger’s seat and held it up to the light once again. She could make out a piece of paper inside. She opened the flap on the envelop and pinched the stationary between her thumb and first finger. She stopped. Sam wanted to know what Ruthie had written that was so awful that her grandparents hadn’t even let Jean see it, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t read that letter before Jean did. It just seemed wrong, almost like she was spying or eavesdropping. It was addressed to her mother and, after sixty years, Jean deserved to be the first one to read it.

Sam quickly opened the glove box and placed the letters and picture back in side. She slammed it shut, hit the lock on the Xterra door, and slammed it closed. She stuffed her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie and looked up at the sky. She exhaled another orange colored breath and jogged back to the hotel’s back door.

When Sam got back to the room, Kate was snoring quietly in Sam’s spot on the bed. She tugged gently on the dog’s collar. They’d been here before. Kate roused herself from sleep, looked at Sam, and jumped from one bed to the other. Sam looked at her phone still sitting face down on the bedside table. She picked it up and illuminated it. She had a text message. For a nano-second, she thought it might be from Malin.

It was from Chris. Dammit, Sam thought. She’d meant to text him earlier to let him know what she had discovered in Cincinnati and Lexington. She would call him in the morning on her way to Graysonville, Kentucky.

Sam pulled off her sweatshirt and climbed back into bed. She put her phone on the bedside table, clicked the light off, pulled the covers over her head, and once again turned her back to the phone. Out of sight out of mind didn’t exactly work, but it was better than starring at it wishing it would ring.

~

 

Sam woke with a start and sat up in bed. She could see the hazy morning light creeping past the heavy curtains in the hotel room. It took a moment for her to remember where she was. The dream had been so vivid and in it she was not in a motel room in Lexington, Kentucky. The dream immediately started to fade and Sam struggled to keep it in the her mind. Malin was there; Sam remembered her blond hair. They had kissed, hadn’t they? But who was the brown haired woman that she had chased and chased and finally caught up to right before she woke up? Sam remembered distinctly the feeling, what it felt like being near this woman. It was like she’d known her forever; it was comfortable, intensely and addictively comfortable. The woman had hugged her, held her close a moment longer than expected, and had given her a gentle kiss on the cheek, then suddenly Sam was awake in the semi-darkness of her motel room.

It was 8:00, a little later than Sam wanted to get up.She quickly showered, dressed, and packed up her things. She unplugged her phone from the charger and unplugged the charger from the wall. No messages awaited her this morning. She’d check her Facebook and Twitter accounts from the road. Sam took the elevator to the lobby and returned her room key to the front desk. She looked at the paltry continental breakfast offerings and decided against a stale bagel and bad coffee. Sam knew she should probably get gas before heading into the ‘backwoods’ of Kentucky anyway and could easily pick up a protein bar and Monster Rehab or coffee at the convenience store.

Twenty minutes later, with a full tank of gas and a cookies and cream Builders Bar in hand, Sam hit ‘Start Route’ on her Mapquest app. She was on her way to Graysonville. And to Ruth Ann Miller.

Exactly eighty-five minutes later, Sam rolled into town. There were no stop lights, but there was a blinking light at what looked to be the center of the main drag. Sam didn’t have an address for Ruth. She just knew that she lived somewhere in Graysonville. She slowed to the prescribed twenty-five miles an hour and cruised through the little downtown area. Sam saw a post office, gas station, Sonic Drive-In (they truly were everywhere), library, and a couple antique stores. She inched a little farther down the road and saw the Dixie Diner. There were a few cars parked out in front and she could see a patron or two inside. Clearly this was the place to be at 10:00am on a Wednesday morning in Graysonville, Kentucky. Sam eased the Xterra into a parallel parking place out front and rolled the window down for Kate. This wasn’t Austin and Sam assumed Kate would not be welcome inside.

Sam heard the clang of small bells and she pulled open the door and held it for an elderly man who was trying to exit. He looked at her inquisitively; she was obviously a stranger; and tipped his hat as if to say ‘Thank you’. As she entered the diner, Sam could smell bacon and suddenly the protein bar she’d eaten less than an hour and a half ago was gone. She hadn’t been planning to eat, but places like this were often good and the bacon smelled amazing. Sam took a seat at the counter and grabbed a small plastic menu from between the sugar shaker and napkin dispenser. Two other patrons turned to stare at her. The lone waitress who had been leaning on the counter between the kitchen and dining room gave her a look then slowly approached.

“What can I get for ya, Darlin’?” She was about fifty and looked a lot like Flo from “Alice”. She had fiery red hair and it looked like she’d put her hot pink lipstick on in the dark.

Sam looked at the menu selections and decided on a short stack of pancakes and a large side of bacon with a Diet Coke to drink.

“Do you have any low sugar syrup?” Sam asked.

“This ain’t the big city, Darlin’. We eat real sugar around here.” She pushed a sticky pitcher of syrup across the counter toward Sam.

A few moments later, the waitress set a plate with three pancakes and a pile of bacon in front of Sam. Sam spread the ball of butter around, even though she never used butter, and poured a healthy portion of the syrup over both the pancakes and bacon. Sam took a huge bite and smiled at the waitress.

“Who you visitin’? I ain’t ever seen you around here before and I been around here forever.” The waitress twanged.

Sam smiled to herself. As luck would have it, she’d run into the Graysonville Town Gossip. Every town had one and if you needed to know anything, this was the person to ask.

“Actually, I’m not visiting anyone, but I am looking for someone. She lives in here in Graysonville. Maybe you know her.”

“Darlin’, like I said. I been here forever. If she lives here or ever lived here, I’m’a sure I know ‘er.”

Sam took another bite of food and swallowed. “Her name is Ruth Miller. Ruth Ann Miller.”

“Oh, bless your heart. What you wantin’ with ol’e Ruth?”

“Nothing, Ma’am. She’s an old friend of my mom’s.”

The waitress called out to the woman in the kitchen, “Hey, Alice… You gotta come out here.”

Sam almost laughed at the mention of the name Alice.

“Do what, Glenda?” a voice from the back called out.

“Just come out here. This young lady here is looking for ol’e Ruth.”

A woman appeared through a swinging door wiping her hands on a white towel.

“Why you a’lookin’ for her?” Alice inquired having missed part of the conversation.

Clearly these women were the town vanguard.

Sam explained again. “Ruth’s an old friend of my mother. I’m just trying to find her.”

Both women looked at her and blinked.

“Why, Darlin’,” Alice said. “Ol’e Ruth’s dead. She passed what? Ten, ‘leven years back.”