15 Our Kitchen Our Bed
We reached Lewiston around 9:30 and found a place to park. After stretching and taking a short walk, we listened to the end of the Cussler story before snuggling up in bed. I woke a couple of times to pee. At three, I was wide awake. I got a cup of scotch and sat in the Captain’s chair. Kate came up and put her arms around me. Her boob pushed against one cheek. She kissed the other one. “Are you okay?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“When Junior was a year old, we took a trip to Acadia National Park in Maine.” I offered her my cup. “We had an old Chevy station wagon that we used as a camper. It was roomy enough for us to sleep in the back when the middle seat was folded down.”
She nipped the whiskey and returned my cup. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I reached up and pulled her down for a kiss. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a little bit.”
After a while, the cup was empty, and I had done enough reminiscing. When I got to the bed, Kate was curled in a fetal position, I wondered – just for a second – “What does Anne think of all this?”
I nestled against her naked body and draped an arm over her. She clasped my hand against her chest. As I pressed my head against hers, I caught a whiff of roses.
###
Kate stood staring down at me after she set the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. When I looked up, she asked, “What’s your cousin’s name?”
“Kirsten,” I grinned. “Kirsten Learned.”
“When does she expect us?”
I shrugged. She said, “You haven’t talked to her about your plan. Have you?”
I could feel my brain sloshing through a thick, soupy fog. Kate frowned as she shook her head. “I’ve done some research on Google. Fairbanks is 2500 miles from the end of the Lewis and Clark Trail. That could take us ten days at a reasonable pace.” She put her hands on the table and touched her forehead to mine. “We don’t want to get all the way up there and find out it was a bad idea.”
I sent an email to Kirsten after breakfast.
##
As soon as we were settled for the day’s drive, Kate put the computer in my lap. “I want to hear about your children.”
I put the session off while she maneuvered through the city. Lewiston is small and rural by east coast standards, but it is the second-largest city in northern Idaho. It could easily pass for a suburban development in Maryland or Missouri. At the north end of town, Route 12 turns west and follows the Snake River.
“Don junior and Annie were born in New Jersey. Junior was just starting elementary school when we moved to Greenbelt, Maryland so I could work on a contract with NASA. That’s a housing project, developed at the beginning of World War II by the Roosevelt administration. It was the country’s first planned community. Not fancy but family-friendly. We stayed there for twenty years because one of the best high schools in the country was a few miles away. It offered a top-notch science and technology program that was perfect for Junior. Annie wasn’t cut out for a program like that, but she still got a great education.”
We were only a couple of miles out of town when our road veered off to the southwest. We traveled in that direction across Idaho and Oregon for a few hours before picking up I84 and the Columbia River.
My story unfolded at a comfortable pace but led to an uncomfortable conclusion. I wasn’t a great dad. Fortunately, Anne was a great mom. My jobs were demanding and occasionally cruel. I was forced to change employers a few times during those twenty years. Each change required me to find a new job and make adjustments to fit into a new situation. Those efforts were physically and emotionally draining. Meanwhile, my children were developing into successful adults.
Both of them went to the University of Maryland. Junior got his master’s in electrical engineering. Annie studied business and went on to get her MBA. Now they’re in Florida building careers and raising families.
We had planned on stopping for lunch at The Dalles but decided to continue to Stevenson after checking into the tourist attractions online. The Columbia River was particularly wild at the Dalles or narrows back in 1805. The Discovery Corps gave an early demonstration of white-water rafting by shooting the rapids in their fully loaded canoes. Modern hydro-electric dams have tamed the Columbia River. The rapids aren’t that exciting these days. Stevenson’s Columbia Gorge Interpretive Center sounded like a better place to take our noon break.
The decision worked out well. We got a quick history lesson covering millions of years of geological development and thousands of years of human habitation. I was exhausted by the time we got back to our camper. Kate put me down for a nap while she drove on to Fort Clatsop. We were on the interstate near Vancouver when I came up to join her in the cabin.
The woman has a lead foot. We reached the end of the Lewis and Clark Trail in time to tour the Fort Clatsop replica. Cousin Kirsten’s email response was waiting when I got back to the RV. She gave me a phone number. I called, and we chatted, but I couldn’t tell her when to expect me. I explained that I was in an RV on the Pacific Coast not far from Vancouver, and I hadn’t looked at the route to her home. I promised to call her back the next day.
##
Kate brooded through dinner. She sat back and focused that laser stare on me after she had finished eating. “Did I miss the part where you told your cousin you were bringing me along?”
“I was planning to tell her the next time we talked.”
“I see.”
“Are we going to look it up on Google?”
“I already did. I want to take the ferry.”
“There’s a ferry service to Fairbanks?”
“No. It’s not on the coast. But the ferry will take us from Bellingham to Haines, cutting down our driving.”
I went to the back for the bottle of scotch and poured some for each of us. “How far is it?”
“From here? 2300 miles. Google estimates 43 hours.”
“And the ferry?”
“4 hours to Bellingham. 72 hours on the ferry. 11 hours to Fairbanks.”
“85 hours versus 43. No brainer.”
“72 hours on the ferry is 3 days. 43 hours on the road is 6 to 8 days. The ferry is faster.”
I shook my head. “Shit.”
“You wanted me to see the mountains. I want us to see the coast.”
“How much?”
“Six thousand.”
I chugged the whiskey. “Are you serious?”
“Take it out of my pay.”
“That’s sixty days. This trip isn’t going to take that long.”
“Take it out of what you owe me.”
“Wouldn’t that leave you in a bind?” I sipped my scotch as I watched for her reaction. “What are you going to do after this trip is over?”
“Go back to work.” She was matter-of-fact. “I didn’t quit my job. What are you going to do?”
I studied the ceiling. “How the fuck would I know?” I took her hands. “You really don’t care about the money?”
“I care very much.” She leaned forward on her elbows and pulled my hand to her lips. “I want to spend it on a cruise up the coast.”
“That’s it? That’s all you want?”
She sat back. “I want the camper.”
I pulled my head back. “The camper?” That made no sense. “Why?”
“It’s my home. It’s us. Our kitchen. Our bed. Our shower.”
I blew a puff of air out and brushed my hand back through what was left of my hair. “I guess it won’t do me much good if I don’t have you around to drive.”
“Come back to St. Louis with me.”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I haven’t figured out what I want to do.” I shut my eyes and blew out through my nose. I looked up at Kate. “I don’t know how much longer I’ve got.”
I stood and walked to the sink. I turned to her and drained my cup. “Up until now, I’ve had a goal. After I visit Kirsten, I’ve got nothing.”
“Do you love me, Mac?”
“Yes.”
“Come to St. Louis. We can take it one day at a time for as many days as we have left.”
I walked back to the scotch and filled my cup. “Do you really think the ferry is the best way to go?”
She nodded. I said, “Did you make the reservations?”
Kate howled, “Mac!” She sounded shocked.
“You’ve got all the details.”
She grimaced. “I have to call them by ten to confirm.”
“Okay. I’ll call Kirsten in the morning after we’ve figured out the itinerary.”
I walked forward and slumped into the Captain’s chair. Kate put her arms around me. “Can we go back to the sofa and cuddle?”