By 8:00 AM they were on the road and stopped for breakfast just outside of Indianapolis. Wilson drove toward Louisville at a relaxed pace. Lynn told him much about her life; her miscarriage, failed marriage, and a brief bout with drug abuse. She spoke at length how Marti was there every step of the way to pick up the pieces.
“Marti is a good woman,” Wilson said. “She probably didn’t tell you much about me.”
“No,” Lynn said.
“There was really very little to tell,” Wilson said. “I’d say things, she would reach out to help, and I’d close her off.”
“She said you were a private person,” Lynn said.
“Not so much private,” Wilson said, “I just had nothing to say. I never told her in detail the charges against me. I was afraid if I did she would leave me. As it turned out I left her.”
“If I knew you were on the way I would have never left,” Wilson said, “not in a million years.”
“I used to play in my room when I was a little girl,” Lynn said, “the usual girl stuff, tea parties. My dad was always my special imaginary guest.”
“I can never make it up to you,” Wilson said.
“You couldn’t help it,” Lynn said. “You didn’t run away from us, you ran away from yourself. I don’t take it personal.”
“Logically I see your point,” Wilson said, “but emotionally I can never forgive myself what has happened.”
“It will get better overtime,” Lynn said. “I have no grudges.”
“I know you don’t,” Wilson said, “and your mother bears no grudges either.”
“There is something I should tell you,” Lynn said, “but you must never reveal it to anyone.”
“With me memory and how it works…” Wilson said.
Lynn restrained her emotions. “Mother always kept a picture of you. It was in a private place; a place she was certain no one but her would find.”
“Where was that?” Wilson said.
“She had a jewelry box,” Lynn said.
“White, gold trim, and about the size of a loaf of bread,” Wilson said.
“Yes,” Lynn said.
“I bought that for her,” Wilson said.
“The velvet panel inside the lid can be removed,” Lynn said. “Behind it was your picture.”
“How did you know about it?” Wilson said.
“When I was a teenager mom had to have open heart,” Lynn said. “She was worried she wouldn’t make it. She told me about the picture. She didn’t want anyone else to find it.”
“You mean her husband,” Wilson said.
“He knew about you and it bothered him,” Lynn said. “If he ever found the picture after, if mom died, it would have crushed him. I think he knew she still loved you.”
“Did he know I was still alive?” Wilson said.
“Mom told him also you were dead,” Lynn said, “that was the story she told everyone.”
“Well,” Wilson said, “she wasn’t far off.”
They pulled off the highway and onto a busy six lane street full of strip malls and car dealerships.
“Pull in here,” Wilson said.
“That’s you up there isn’t it,” Lynn said. “Arnold Chrysler/Dodge/Jeep.”
“Yep,” Wilson said, “that’s me.”
She turned down a street next to the dealership.
“Go to the back of the lot,” Wilson said, “and turn into the last driveway. You brought your title didn’t you?”
“It’s in the glove compartment,” Lynn said.
Wilson opened the glove compartment and grabbed the title.
“See the blue car,” Wilson said. “Park next to it.”
“What is that car called?” Lynn said.
“It’s a Viper and it’s yours,” Wilson said.
Lynn parked next to the car. “That’s too nice of a car for me.”
A round man in his late 40s got out of the Viper. Wilson walked toward him.
“My god, Charles, it is you,” the man said.
“This is my daughter, Lynn,” Wilson said. “Lynn, this is my old friend, Frank.”
They exchanged greetings.
“Not a word of this,” Wilson said.
“What’s going on?” Frank said.
“I’m not sure myself,” Wilson said. “Do you have the title inside.”
“Yeah,” Frank said. “This is strange I got a call from Drake last night; all real hush hush. Told me to be at the back of the lot with a blue Viper between 11:00 and 11:30.”
“That’s why you’ll be running this dealership again in a couple of weeks,” Wilson said.
“There’s a lot of strange things going on,” Frank said. “Things have changed since you, you… what ever it was you did and went.”
“It’s along story, Frank,” Wilson said. “Now I want to get out of here before I’m recognized.”
They shook hands and quickly exchanged the plates. Lynn got behind the wheel and Wilson climbed into the passengers seat and they drove quietly away.
“There’s some deep stuff going on isn’t there, Dad,” Lynn said.
“You called me, Dad,” Wilson said. “I like that and yes there is some deep stuff going on and I have no idea how deep it is.”