Page 40 of The Roads We Follow

“I never claimed to be a math wizard.”

“No, you’re just a bus-driving therapist in search of his biological father.”

Micah clears his throat again. “Actually, for the sake of full disclosure, I’m an unemployed bus-driving therapist in search of his biological father.” He raises that calming palm again. “But that’s a story for another time. Right now, I’m hoping you’ll explain what it was you were accusing me of originally.”

I swallow and nod, feeling weary to my bones. As horrible as it would have been for Micah to be the secret author behind the tell-all, I’m left once again with a key suspect who will be impossible to negotiate with. “Someone with access to my mama’s history and personal information has signed a book contract and is currently using a ghostwriter to write a tell-all about my mama and family ... and I’m the only person who knows.”

Micah starts to speak twice before he’s able to utter a word. “I swear to you, Raegan, I know nothing about that.”

“I believe you.” And I realize, in that moment, I do. I trust him.

“I appreciate that,” he says. “I’m not a fan of keeping secrets, but since my father is still out on a boat in the middle of the Pacific, I need to be careful what I say and to whom when it comes to my search.”

“I can respect that.”

He nods. “Thank you. If there’s any way I can help you, Raegan, I will.”

“At the moment, I’m not even sure how to help myself.” The confession is as defeating as it is true.

Micah stuffs his hands in his shorts pockets and tips his head to the bus. “For now, we should probably get some rest. Tomorrow’s another long day.”

Exhausted after tonight’s emotional showdown, I peer up at him and nod. We walk down the path in contemplative silence together.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get on Adele’s laptop for a few minutes. I’m trying to verify something.”

“Want me to play lookout? I can read a few more entries in the journals while you search.”

“That’d be helpful, thanks.”

When we reach the bus, Micah allows me to climb the steps first. “Can I ask what you’re researching?”

My fingers grip the cool metal handle as I say, “A suspect who has never shown an ounce of mercy when it mattered most.”

August 16, 1975

Eugene, Oregon

Dear Chickee,

I’m writing this from inside the hotel bathroom in Eugene, Oregon, while Luella sleeps. Our bus ride here was long, but we met up with Luella’s friend at the university and bought the VW bus. It’s lime greenand smells of stale potato chips, but it runs! Plus, it will save us on lodging costs now that we can sleep inside it for the remainder of our trip. With our combined savings and the money you gave me, we should be all set once we reach Nashville. Thank you again.

I know I put on a brave face when we left your house yesterday morning, but I couldn’t talk for nearly two hours for fear of blubbering. I wonder if this is how everyone feels when they leave home for the first time? I hope it gets easier. I also hope Luella is right about Tennessee being a fresh start for big dreams.

I’m not sure what my big dream is yet, but Luella assures me hers are big enough to share. I suppose, when I think about it, my most important dreams have already come true.

I love you,

Lynn

August 20, 1975

Redwood National Forest

California

Dear Chickee,

I sent you a postcard today from the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. I tried to draw it, but I never could get the scale right. The trees here are enormous, even taller than our tallest buildings downtown. I know you’ll love the picture on the postcard. Luella took a few with her polaroid, too. I’ll show you everything when I can come back and visit.

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