Chapter 7
Miles Apart
Ashley
Ashley had spent the summer volunteering at a local recreation center, working with kids under ten.
After years of being a camp counselor, playing with children was a piece of cake.
She used all the metaphorical tools in her “kids toolbox” creating an entire schedule that would guarantee they would be pooped by the time their parents fetched them.
When her stint at the recreation center was over, Ashley flew to England to meet with her advisor.
It was a four-day whirlwind event, leaving little time to do anything else but meet with professors, eat, sleep, and do it again.
Before she returned home, she asked for a few suggestions for when she and her mother came back in December.
Ashley and Jessica began to plan their holiday trip to England including a stopover in Manchester, the last known address of the Evans family.
Although she felt compelled to find her birth mother, she didn’t want it to be the entire focus of her trip.
This was supposed to be a time for Ashley and her mother to enjoy the holidays together before Ashley started at Oxford.
Finding her birth mother was important, but enjoying time with Jessica, the woman who raised her, was even more important.
Ashley considered Jessica her real mother.
She was as real as anyone could get. Ashley recalled the words of wisdom from her mother: “It’s about the family you make.
” Jessica was the only mother she knew, and Jessica was a model mom.
She was loving, funny, supportive, and strong.
She was never cruel or unkind to Ashley.
When Ashley did something wrong, which wasn’t very often, Jessica would sit her down and explain how to make a better decision in the future.
Jessica didn’t baby her, but she didn’t throw her into the pool either.
She taught Ashley how to swim. Metaphorically and figuratively.
Ashley was getting excited as she imagined all the things she and her mother would do on this trip.
There were a number of villages she wanted to visit.
Manchester would be one of their stops, but surely not the only destination.
Ashley printed out a map and began to circle the towns she hoped to visit.
Cambridge was an obvious choice. She had to see what all the competition was about.
She also wanted to visit Stonehenge near Salisbury and considered going there for the winter solstice celebration, but when she visited the English Heritage website, she discovered thousands of people had the same idea.
Ashley crossed it off her list for this trip and decided it was best to visit it once she had settled in England and when the crowds would be much more manageable.
As she circled more cities, she began counting on her fingers how many days it would take to complete her dream itinerary.
It turned out to be all ten of them, plus her toes.
Fifteen days at the minimum. The plan was to spend the first two days in London and do a little holiday shopping.
From there, they’d travel to Cambridge, then Nottingham to visit the castle and the famous Sherwood Forest. She continued to lay out the trip: Manchester, Birmingham, the Cotswolds, Winchester, Oxford, and return to London to see the Tower, Westminster Abbey, and Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.
The total number of days was still to be determined.
The big question was transportation. Would she or Jessica dare to attempt driving on the other side of the road while on the right-front seat of the car?
Perhaps trains and a local guide might be the answer.
She had lots more research ahead, but research was her specialty—except instead of literature, it would be for their vacation in England.
Within two weeks, Ashley was finalizing the details for their road trip.
She made all the reservations, including one for a car rental.
Ashley thought she’d give it a go from London to Cambridge.
It was sixty-one miles, which should take about an hour and a half.
If she could manage it without incident, she’d have the confidence to travel from Cambridge to Nottingham, which should take two hours.
Nottingham to Manchester was the longest haul, at approximately two hours.
From there it was another hour and a half to Birmingham.
All the other stops were an hour or an hour and a half.
That could prove to be an excellent way to learn how to drive in the UK.
It was worth a try. She was going to have to figure it out eventually, and increments of two hours or less should be doable.
In the room upstairs, Jessica was starting to feel angst. What if they were met with bad news?
Would no news be worse? Then after their sleuthing for Ashley’s birth mother, Jessica would be leaving her daughter behind.
To fend for herself. In a foreign country.
Thirty-six hundred miles away. She thought Dartmouth was a hike, but this was way too far away.
Jessica wondered what things would be like for all of them.
And what if they found her birth mother?
That was a lot to wrap her head around. Jessica knew she had little control over most of it.
We fool ourselves into believing we do, but as the expression goes, “Man plans and God laughs.”
Jessica decided she needed a little distraction and booked a salsa class. She grabbed a light sweater and her dance shoes. “Honey, I’m going to a class. I’ll see you for dinner, okay?”
“Want to meet at Georgiou’s after you’re done?”
“Sounds good to me. I am sure Noah will make me work up an appetite,” Jessica called from the entry.
“Noah,” Ashley muttered. Her mom’s dance partner.
He was nice looking, in good shape, and well-groomed.
Single, as far as she knew. About ten years younger than her mother.
He seemed rather ebullient when he was around Jessica.
He was rather polite. He made it a point to walk Jessica to her car after every class.
Ashley didn’t think he did that for all his classmates.
Ashley surmised that Noah was sweet on her mother, but she was concerned about the ten-year difference.
Although if the roles were reversed, no one would think twice about a man dating a woman ten years his junior.
Ashley realized she had no idea how old Noah actually was.
In today’s world, it was difficult to guess someone’s age because of the extensive use of cosmetic treatments like Botox and filler, and hair restoration options from places like Hair Club.
But she was convinced he was in his forties.
Maybe forty-eight? At least he wasn’t Ashley’s age.
She chuckled to herself. That would be incredibly awkward.
But as long as her mother was happy, that’s all that mattered.
Heck, if her father could have a buddy, then so should her mother.
Jessica had always been her own woman, which was why she was able to adapt when she and Todd decided to make a split. Ashley hoped she could be as cool as her mother when she was in her fifties. And as beautiful.
If Ashley were to describe herself she might say that on a good day she was “cute,” in an Anne Hathaway sort of way.
She had a great smile, which always made people appear more attractive.
She wore minimal makeup and pulled her long hair back with a headband.
She glanced at herself in the dining room mirror.
Maybe she could do with a slight makeover. She decided to start with her hair.
She phoned a nearby salon and made an appointment to get her mane cut into a bob.
It would be easier to blow out, and she needed to be efficient when she was at university.
They were able to take her immediately, which meant she would have a new look when she met up with her mother later.
Ashley felt uplifted. She had a good feeling about the trip and her life in general.
As much as she wanted to meet her birth mother and father, if she didn’t, she would be okay.
Ashley sat in the salon chair with her back to the mirror.
She didn’t want to watch as the stylist began to chop her hair, although she could feel her locks falling to the floor.
She couldn’t remember the last time her hair was above her shoulders.
An hour later, after the blowout, the stylist spun Ashley’s chair around.
Ashley gasped. “Holy guacamole! I look like a completely different person.” She fluffed the hair that barely grazed the top of her shoulders. “This is fabulous!”
The stylist handed her a mirror and spun Ashley around again so she could see the back.
She was thrilled. It was exactly the polished look she was going for.
She didn’t want to be the stereotypical academic who appeared to have no concern about her appearance.
She knew it mattered. People judged you, whether you liked it or not.
It seems our society is wired that way. But being judgmental isn’t all bad, especially if you have standards.
Ashley had standards. She wanted to look as professional and “put together” as possible and planned to work on her wardrobe over the coming weeks.
She got a text from her mother informing her that the dance class was over, and she hoped Ashley didn’t mind if she invited Noah to join them. Ashley had an impish grin on her face. Maybe her mother had a beau? Ashley texted her back:
That should be fun. See you in a few.
Ashley wondered what was going on between her mother and the handsome younger man. She guessed she was about to find out.
Ashley was the first to arrive at Georgiou’s and greeted the hostess and owner, Mrs. Georgiou.
“Ashley! Your hair! It’s wonderful!”
Ashley blushed. She didn’t think she would get such a positive reaction.