Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus by Joyce Magnin Page B

go get these burgers on the grill,” Prudence said. “I bet it’s your mother.”
    She was right. Henry pulled his cell from his pants pocket.
    “Mother,” he said. “Where are you?”
    “Oh, Henry,” Harriet said. “Must you start every conversation with that line?”
    “Okay, okay, how are you, Mom?”
    “That’s better. I’m fine. How are you … and Prudence?”
    “We’re fine.”
    “Humphrey?”
    “He’s fine too, Mom. I think he made a friend. A very tall and elegant white poodle.”
    “Oh, goodie, I was hoping he’d meet some friends. Poor thing though, all he can do is look.” She chuckled.
    “Mom. Where are you?”
    Humphrey ambled into the kitchen. Humphrey danced a little jig around Henry’s feet.
    “Mother, will you say hello to your dog?”
    “Certainly. Put him on.”
    Henry held the phone inside one of Humphrey’s long, floppy ears. “Say hello to Mommy.”
    Humphrey only sat on his hunches looking up at Henry with soft, sad eyes.
    “Go on, say hello.”
    Henry took the phone. “He’s not talking, Mother. You say something to him.” He held the phone to Humphrey’s ear again.
    “Hello, Humphrey. Harriet misses you.”
    Humphrey took a breath and howled.
    “Oh, dear Lord,” Henry said, “the dog is talking to her.”
    “I’ll see you soon. Now put Henry back on.”
    “Now where are you?” Henry said into the phone as Humphrey tried his best to get his attention.
    “I’m on a train in Virginia, on my way to Greensboro, NorthCarolina. I’m still just tickled to pieces that I can make a telephone call on a train. Your daddy would be so amazed.”
    “Yes, it is amazing, but Mom, Greensboro? That’s still a very long way from here. Are you —” Henry stopped. “That’s good Mom. Maybe you’ll find some nice salt and pepper shakers.”
    “Really? You mean you’re okay with this now? I mean I did make it all the way to Virginia by myself. You changed your tune all of a sudden.”
    “Let’s just say a friend helped me understand a little better.”
    “That’s nice dear — for both our sakes.”
    “It doesn’t mean I won’t worry about you.”
    “That’s okay, you can worry like the fussbudget you are, but not too much.”
    “Do you know where you’ll be staying?”
    “Oh, not yet. But I’m sure I’ll find a nice place.” Harriet said. “My fancy new Droid phone has all the places to stay inside of it somehow, the internet I suppose.”
    “You got a Droid? Mother I’m jealous. I can’t get one yet.”
    “Henry, would you mind if we hung up now? I’m kind of tired; it’s been a long day, and I feel a little headachy.”
    “Okay, get some rest tonight and keep in touch.”
    Henry looked at his phone. “How come she gets a Droid?”
    “Was that your mother?” Prudence said when she returned to the kitchen.
    “Yep. She’s in Virginia.”
    “Virginia. Did she say what part?”
    “No, but she’s on her way to Greensboro. She’s making progress.”
    Prudence smiled. “I’m proud of her. A seventy-two-year-old woman traveling all alone across the country collecting salt and pepper shakers as she goes.”
    Henry laughed. “It is kind of funny. I just worry, you know. She’s … she’s my mom.”
    Prudence smirked. “I know but —”
    “But what?”
    “Oh, sometimes I still get upset about my own parents and wish —”
    Henry took Prudence in his arms. “I know. What your mother did was hurtful, but your Dad did a great job raising you alone.”
    “I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I mean she’d be the same age as your mother.”
    “Maybe we can try and find her someday.”
    Prudence kissed Henry. “Maybe. But listen, I’m proud of you too, for taking the high road and trusting Harriet.”
    “I have to, Pru. I owe her after what I did — selling the business and being a writer when she wanted me to follow —”
    “But you had to follow your heart. I’m sure she understands. Maybe now more than ever. Or maybe that’s