Page 46 of To the Moon and Back
“You have a lot on your plate.” Her father laughed. “Like four kids to feed and help with homework.” He shrugged. “If I’d known her last name, I would’ve already looked myself.”
“See?” Ashley laughed, too. “Now you know where I get it!”
“True.” He paced to the spot in front of her easel.
Ashley appreciated her father’s heart, his time. More than he would ever know. “I think there’s a spiritual side to all this, too.”
“For the guy?” Her dad turned to her.
“For both of them, maybe.” Ashley stood and looked at her dad for a minute. “I guess we won’t know until we find her.”
“Until you find her.” He chuckled. “I have a paper to write for the hospital administration. I’m presenting it next week.”
“So here we are”—she smiled—“two fairly busy people. And we can’t stop thinking about how to help a stranger.” Ashley paused. “God’s up to something. I have to believe it.”
“Well.” He breathed deep and glanced at her easel once more. “I’ll let you get back to your painting.” He grinned at her. “Just thought it’d be better to talk about this in person.”
Ashley understood what he meant. If he had texted or called, she might’ve misunderstood him. She could’ve assumed he was doubtful about her intentions. But that wasn’t the case at all.
He only wanted to help.
The way he always did.
She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Tell Elaine I said hi.” She stepped back and smiled. “And thanks for the berries. The kids will love them.”
“Elaine’s making shortcake back at home.” He shook his head, his eyes sparkling. “She made enough for the neighborhood.”
“I have an idea!” Ashley laughed. “Why don’t you and Elaine join us for dinner? Landon’s grilling, and Elaine can bring the shortcake.”
Her dad nodded. “Sounds like a perfect night. I’ll talk to Elaine.” He paused at the bottom of the stairs. “I love this, Ash. Being so close. Having time with you and your siblings.”
“We love it, too.” She waved and watched him leave, waited as his car moved along their paved drive to the road.
As soon as he was out of sight she went inside, found her laptop and brought it back out to the front porch. Why hadn’t she thought about looking up Jenna’s parents? Like her dad said, there were only so many couples killed in the bombing. She Googled the list of victims.
She went through a full search of the surviving family members of couples killed in the tragedy. Then she came to Bill and Betsy Phillips. “Bill and Betsy Phillips.” Ashley whispered their names as she typed them into the search line. Then she typed “survivors.”
Suddenly she was looking at a headline.
WHERE ARE THEY NOW? CHILDREN ORPHANED BY THE OKLAHOMA CITY BOMBING.
Ashley felt her heart skip a beat. Could Bill and Betsy be Jenna’s parents? The article was in The Oklahoman, still online after a decade. She opened it and began to read. The first part of the article led to a section titled “Life After the Bombing—Bill and Betsy Phillips.” Beneath that was a list of their surviving family members, including a daughter named Elizabeth Jenna Phillips.
Elizabeth Jenna Phillips?
Ashley felt the porch begin to spin. Her heart pounded as she read this part of the story.
Elizabeth Jenna Phillips was just five years old when her parents went to work that April 19 and never came home. She lived with her grandmother for the rest of her school years.
Ashley kept reading. The article was heartbreaking, detailing the jobs the little girl’s parents had held, and how long they’d worked at the Alfred P. Murrah Building. But nothing more about the child.
In a rush, Ashley switched to Facebook. “Elizabeth Jenna Phillips,” she typed. Four matches came up, but none were younger than forty. She searched again with just “Jenna Phillips,” but again, nothing.
She was so close. Ashley tapped her fingers on the table. “Come on.” There had to be something. Please, God, lead me to her. Ashley took a deep breath and tried again. This time she Googled “Elizabeth Jenna Phillips” and “Oklahoma City Bombing.”
The results that came back were slightly different.
Top of the list was an article titled ORPHANS OF OKLAHOMA CITY—TWENTY YEARS LATER.
