Free Indirect Route by Claire Matthews Page B

interesting.” Janie slapped his arm as he laughed.  “See, you’ve worked around men too long.  Nothing but a filthy mind on you.”
    They made it back to Cypress Hills Drive before ten o’clock, but did not find anyone who remembered Kenneth or Elaine until they visited the fourth house on their list, which was close to the end of the block.
    “Oh my God, Kenneth and Elaine.  Geez, I haven’t thought about them in years!” a lady by the name of Corrine Baxter exclaimed.  “They hung out down at the bowling alley almost every Saturday night, at least until the baby came along.”
    “That would be me,” Janie said, raising her fingers ridiculously.
    “You’re little Janie!” Corrine cried.  She seemed to be a very excitable individual.  Janie couldn’t help but wonder at the blandness of her life.
    “Guilty.” She nodded and pointed at Aaron.  “My mother, Elaine, she died earlier this year.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry.”
    “Thank you.”  Janie deftly moved the conversation forward.  “The thing is, I never knew my father, Kenneth.  Something must have happened when I was a baby.  My mother always told me I was the product of an anonymous one-night stand, but I’ve learned since her death that wasn’t the case.”
    “It most certainly wasn’t.”  Corrine waived them inside the house, clearly eager to tell them all she knew.  “Come on in, but ignore the mess.  My Eugene’s on a fishing trip, and I just can’t be bothered to keep the house when it’s just me and Tara at home.”  Janie could only assume that Tara was the tabby cat sitting on the windowsill, licking back paw.
    “Sit.  Would you like some sun tea?  I’ve got a jar out on the porch.”
    “No, thank you.” Janie said.  Aaron just shook his head.
    “Well, you listen here, Janie.  I don’t know what happened between your mother and father, but it most certainly was not a one-night stand.  That man loved you to pieces.  And there’s no question that he was your father.  You’re the spitting image of him.  You’ve got his eyes.  And his dark hair.”  Corrine was beginning to look somewhat wistful, and Janie bit back a grin when Aaron cleared his throat to get her attention.
    “Do you remember when they left Mobile, Mrs. Baxter?” he asked.
    “Well, it would’ve been sometime around 1990 or so.  I remember I had just found out I was pregnant with Stephanie, my oldest.  Janie, you were about two years old, I guess.  Elaine came over one day and asked if we had any old boxes she could borrow.  She said that your father had found a new job in Tulsa, and that you all were moving.  I remember thinking it was strange, because your mama was packing everything by herself.”
    “What do you mean?” Aaron leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
    “Well, I brought boxes down to the house later that afternoon, and Elaine was packing real fast, all by herself.  I asked where Ken was, and she said he was still at work.  Which I thought was odd, you know, since he had a new job.  But your mama was always very independent.  Such a sweet woman.”
    “So that was it?  Did you and my mom keep in touch?”
    “No, honey, we sure didn’t.  By the next day, you girls were both gone.  I remember seeing Ken in the driveway and asking why he wasn’t with you.  He said he had to finish out his last two weeks at the pipe plant before he joined you.  By the end of the month, he was gone, too.” 
    “What about other neighbors?” Aaron pulled a small pad of paper out of the front pocket of his jeans.  “Anyone they were particularly close friends with?  Anyone they might have kept in touch with over the years?”
    “I’m afraid not, honey.  I remember Marla and me talking about them later on that year.  Marla used to be my next-door neighbor, but she and her husband moved to Ft. Lauderdale after the kids left for college.  Anyway, Marla and I always thought it was kind of weird that no one ever