Ruth said.
“Do you have any friends living there?” Annie pressed, but before Ruth could answer, she asked another question. “I’ll bet it’s been ages since you connected with them, isn’t it?”
“Well, that was forty-nine years ago. I’m sure they’ve moved on.”
“What are their names?” Annie’s fingers were primed and ready as she held her cell phone. “I’ll look them up and find out for you.”
“Annie,” Bethanne warned. Her daughter seemed to be taking control of the trip.
“Okay, okay, I’ll shut up and we can spend the night in Spokane and sit around the hotel room all afternoon.”
Bethanne cast Ruth an apologetic look.
“I had a friend by the name of Marie Philips.” Ruth’s voice was tentative, uncertain. “She was married and a young mother herself. Her parents owned a small café on the outskirts of town. I’m sure it’s long gone by now.”
“We need to eat, don’t we?” Annie said triumphantly.
“The café might not even be in business anymore,” Bethanne felt obliged to remind her.
“Is her name listed on that computer phone of yours?” Ruth asked, sounding more interested by the minute.
Bethanne could hear Annie typing away.
“P-h-i-l-i-p-s?” Annie spelled it out. “With one L?”
“Yes. The café was where the bus stopped, too. They served the most wonderful home cooking. Marie was a real friend to me, but we lost contact after Richard and I moved.”
“What was the name of the café?”
“Oh, dear.” Ruth shook her head. “I don’t remember, but I do know where it is … or was.”
“So, can I see the town where Dad was born?” Annie asked eagerly. “Even if we spend the night in Spokane, I’d still like to visit Pendleton.”
“I don’t see why we couldn’t,” Ruth said, apparently catching Annie’s enthusiasm. “My goodness, I haven’t thought of Marie in years. She had a son around the same age as Grant. I wonder what became of him. Marie had an older boy, as well. Like I said, she was so helpful to me. She’s one of those salt-of-the-earth people.” Ruth seemed immersed in her memories.
Bethanne continued driving in silence. They passed Ellensburg and were headed toward the bridge that spanned the mighty Columbia River, on the way to Moses Lake. All of this was familiar territory. If they made the decision to go to Pendleton, they’d need to change course after crossing the bridge.
Annie was still typing. “The Pendleton directory lists a Marie Philips.”
“It does?” Ruth’s voice rose excitedly. “Let’s call her.”
Annie called and left a message on the woman’s voice mail. When she’d finished, she asked, “Do you want me to see about changing our hotel reservations?”
“I’ve already made a deposit at the hotel in Spokane,” Ruth lamented.
Bethanne hated to admit it, but even she was disappointed. She was enjoying the drive and it did seem a waste of time to arrive in Spokane for lunch and call it a day.
“It’s a chain hotel,” Annie said. “If there’s one in Pendleton, I bet they can switch reservations without a penalty.”
Ruth was quiet for a moment. “Okay, call and see if the hotel is willing to do that.”
“When you’re ready, give me the phone number.”
Ruth rattled it off. Annie got through right away and made the arrangements. She disconnected, saying, “Done. The manager told me it wasn’t a problem.”
“That’s great,” Bethanne said, pleased her daughter was so technologically savvy. She had the same phone as Annie and Grant but couldn’t do nearly as much with it. The problem was that she hadn’t made the effort to learn. It seemed that whenever she got comfortable with her phone, it was time to upgrade and she’d have to learn a whole new process.
“I wonder what Marie’s doing these days,” Ruth said thoughtfully.
“Well, we’ll find out,” Annie responded.
“We can have a light lunch when we hit the Tri-cities,” Bethanne suggested, “and once we reach Pendleton we can look for the café your friend’s family owned.”
“I’d like that,” Ruth said, “but we all know there’s no guarantee the café will still be there.”
“Right, but we can look, can’t we?” Annie said. “Then, after we eat, can you show me the house you lived in when Dad was born?”
“Sure thing,” Ruth said, “but again you have to remember that was a long time ago.”
Bethanne didn’t understand Annie’s sudden interest in her father’s birthplace. Ruth, however, seemed happy to stroll down memory lane. Annie was encouraging her, and this exchange of questions and anecdotes was probably good for both of them.
Annie’s cell phone rang when they stopped for lunch in Richland. They found a chain restaurant off the freeway and each ordered soup.
“Oh, hi, Dad,” Annie said, and her gaze immediately went to Bethanne. “Yeah, we’re in Richland.” She smiled and added, “We made good time. Mom’s driving—and guess what?”
Bethanne was determined not to listen, but she couldn’t avoid hearing Annie’s side of the conversation.
“Mom’s right here. Do you want to talk to her?”
Bethanne shook her head vigorously. Annie ignored her reaction and handed over the cell.
Reluctantly, Bethanne accepted it. “Hello, Grant,” she said without enthusiasm.
“You turned your cell phone off,” he said, although his words lacked any real censure.
“I’m driving,” she pointed out. The rental car didn’t have a Bluetooth connection.
“That’s what Annie said.”
Silence.
“How’s it going so far?”
“Fine.” She resisted telling him that they’d left just that morning and were only about two hundred miles from Seattle.
“What’s this I hear about you spending the night in Pendleton? Did you know I was born there?”
If she’d forgotten, she’d received plenty of reminders in the past few hours. “Annie mentioned it.” Bethanne wondered if Grant had put their daughter up to this. She was well aware that Annie had her own agenda. But then, perhaps she was becoming paranoid.
“I hoped you’d call and check in every
