TEN
Shane couldn’t think of anything but Lauren.
They’d been tricked, that much was obvious. The whole phone number thing didn’t make sense unless it was intentional. At least on the part of Lauren’s parents. He’d brought it up to his parents a handful of times, and they always seemed surprised. His mother looked confused the first time he told her about the recording on Lauren’s old phone number. “We thought they were leaving a forwarding number. Angela told me they were leaving it on the recording.”
“So why didn’t they?” Shane was ready to get in his car and go back to Chicago. Except the car wasn’t his, and his parents wouldn’t let him take it farther than the mall. He fought his frustration as he looked at his mother, trying to figure out the situation. “What do you think happened?”
“Truthfully?” Pained sorrow filled his mother’s face. “I think maybe they wanted to be rid of us . . . rid of you, Shane.”
“Why?” He was on his feet. “They know how much Lauren and I want to be together. I can’t call her without a phone number.” He thought for a minute. “Do they know ours?”
His mother frowned. “I don’t see how they could. We’re in a new development, and getting our phone service in took a while. You know that.” She took hold of his hand. “It feels like they wanted to cut ties, son. I’m sorry.”
Time wore on and he watched the calendar. When it came time for Lauren’s due date, he waited until he had the house to himself, which happened every afternoon. His father was always at his new mortgage office, and his mother spent her afternoons there helping set it up. So every afternoon Shane worked through a list of hospitals within a hundred-mile radius around the city of Chicago.
“My girl friend’s having a baby,” he told the receptionist at the first hospital on his list. “I need to know if you’ve admitted her.”
“Sir, I’m afraid we can’t give patient information out to anyone except next of kin.”
He felt the frustration build. “You mean if I were her husband you’d tell me if she was there?”
“Exactly.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. He called the next hospital on his list. “My wife’s having a baby. I need to know if you’ve admitted her.”
“Her name?”
He felt a surge of hope. “Lauren Anderson.”
The sound of typing filled the phone line. “No, sir. No one here by that name.”
Then he’d go to the next hospital on the list. When he was finished, he’d hide the list where his parents wouldn’t find it. Not that they’d stop him from trying to find her. But they weren’t happy about the pregnancy, and he had the sense it would be better to keep his phone calling to himself.
Each day, after his parents were gone, he’d pull the list from his hiding spot under his bed and start again at the beginning. Lauren’s due date was mid-July, and he made the phone calls until the end of the month. Then he began to panic. What if something had happened to the baby, or what if Lauren left the area or decided to give the baby up?
There were nights he couldn’t sleep because his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of ways to find her. She was in the Chicago suburbs somewhere. He tried calling directory assistance, but none of the Bill Andersons listed outside the city were the right one. That’s when he hit on the idea of calling the banks. There were dozens in the suburbs around Chicago, but he had plenty of time.
He made another list and started at the beginning.
“Hi, a friend of mine recently bought a bank in your area. I’m trying to find him. Could you tell me if Bill Anderson is the new owner there?”
“Bill Anderson?”
“Yes. It was only a few months ago.”
“No, we’ve had the same owner for ten years.”
The answers were mostly the same. Only a few times did people give him a little bit of possibility. Once he called a bank outside Wheaton and started the conversation the same way:
“A friend of mine bought a bank in your area. Could you tell me if Bill Anderson bought your bank recently?”
“Yes. Could I get your name please?”
Yes? Shane was so excited he stood up and paced across the empty kitchen. “My name’s Shane. Shane Galanter.”
“Just a minute please.” The woman put him on hold and after a short time she came back. “I’m sorry, that’s not the name of our owner.”
“But you told me yes, you just said that, remember?” Shane pushed his fingers through his hair and rested his forearms on his knees. “Please, check again.”
“Sir, I’m very busy. I don’t keep track of the bank owners. Can I help you in any other way? Would you like to open an account?”
Shane slammed the phone in the cradle. He tried that bank three more times, but he never again had the strange response he’d gotten that first time.
At the end of another week the bank list turned up nothing, and that made Shane wonder. Maybe Lauren’s father had chosen a different investment, the way his father had. A mortgage company or an insurance office, something new. The possibilities were endless, and that meant another dead end.
He tried the few friends Lauren still had, but none of them had her new contact information. Besides, most of them had faded away by the time summer came. Teenage girls didn’t spend time with one of their own who was seven months pregnant.
More time passed, and now it was late August and school was starting in a week. Shane was going crazy trying to find her. She would have the baby now, and that meant she’d made her decision. Either she was learning how to be a mother with their baby at her side, or she had given the baby up.
One night that week he was quiet at dinner, and his father asked him about it. “You okay, Shane?”
“I can’t stop thinking about her.”
His father took a bite of his chicken. “Who?”
“Who?” He looked from his father to his mother. “Are you serious?”
“Honey, he’s talking about Lauren, of course.” His mother passed a bowl of mashed potatoes across the table. She looked his way. “Have you tried her old number again? Maybe they’ve left a forwarding number by now.”
“I try it every day.” He raked his fork through his green beans and pushed his chair back from the table. “I can’t find her. I hate this.”
“I’ll tell you what, son. You get through this next year of school, and if she hasn’t turned up by then, we’ll go looking for her.”
By the end of the year? Shane stared at him. Did he really think that was a possibility? That the two of them wouldn’t find each other for a whole year? What about the baby? He was a father; he certainly had the right to spend time with his child, to meet him or her.
That night he turned in early. Baseball was done for the summer, and he still had a few days before school started. He opened his closet and pulled out a box he kept near the back. Then he shut his bedroom door, carried the box to his bed, and gently lifted the first thing from the top. It was a framed photo that Lauren had given him at the end of their fifth-grade year. The two of them had just finished a track meet, and they had their arms locked around each others’ necks. In the background, he could see her parents, talking to some of the other adults. His mother had taken the picture. He could hear her voice still.
“You two are darling together.”
“Mom, come on.” He hadn’t been into girls back then. Lauren was his friend. “Take the picture.”
When she finally snapped it, Lauren grabbed her water bottle and sprayed him. The move took him by surprise. He grabbed his and chased her, but she was fast and she had a head start. They ran, and as he caught up to her he tore the lid from his bottle. He doused her before she could get away, and they both wound up lying on the grass, side by side, soaking wet and laughing hard.
He looked at the picture now. It was faded, and their faces looked so young. Like that moment had happened to a different couple of kids altogether. He reached back into the box and the next thing he brought out
was a handmade card, something Lauren had made him for his thirteenth birthday.
On the outside she’d drawn stick figures of the two of them on opposite sides of a football stadium. It reminded him of his parents and hers sitting at a high school football game, talking and laughing and watching the action on the field. He and Lauren had walked down behind the bleachers and there — in the shadows of the stadium — they shared their first kiss.
“Don’t tell anyone ever, okay?” Lauren’s cheeks were red. She could hardly wait to get back up to the bleachers.
“I won’t. We can stay on opposite sides of the stadium, okay?” He grinned at her. “That way no one will ever guess.”
“Okay. Let’s do that.”
He looked at the card now. It was lightly yellowed from the years that had passed. The stick figures couldn’t have been farther apart. On the inside she’d written, “How’s life on your side of the bleachers?”
He ran his fingers over the cover of the card and slipped it back into the box.
How had everything gone so wrong? They were the couple their friends liked to hold up as the perfect pair. Their families were best friends, they both had a determination to stay away from the pitfalls other couples fell to — either by spending too much time together or by getting too physical. It was that last summer, that’s what did them in. When he looked back, it made sense that they’d fallen. They were alone so much of the time, and by then they were almost too comfortable with each other.
He looked back into the box. It was half full of cards and letters. He reached in and pulled out one that was folded into a small square. Carefully so he wouldn’t rip the paper, he opened it and found the beginning. “Shane, we were studying zoo animals and Miss Erickson assigned me to work on the monkey. Which made me think of you. Remember the monkey? I never laughed so hard in all my life. Love you lots and lots, Lauren.”
The monkey. A chuckle sounded low in his throat. He and Lauren had gone to the zoo with their sixth grade science class. He’d been caught talking to her, and the teacher forced him to give a speech on monkeys to the class.
Again the memory dimmed, and he reached for another folded note. This one had a picture Lauren had drawn. It was a fighter jet with a little man sitting in the cockpit. She’d drawn an arrow to the figure and scrawled the words, “You’re gonna fly one day! When you go, take me with you.”
The evening wore on that way with one special picture or letter after another. In the end, he packed everything back in the box and slipped it back into his closet. Wherever she was, he needed her. And he was certain she needed him. She was his best friend, the girl at the center of all his good memories of growing up.
He stared out the window into the dark. God, You know where she is and what she’s doing. I have to find her. Please, God. I don’t know what else to do.
The answer came clear and quick. Follow me, son, follow me.
The words took him by surprise. He hadn’t been to youth group or read a Bible since he moved to Los Angeles. What he had done, though, was pray. And prayer felt more and more natural. Okay, so he’d follow Jesus. But what did that mean when it came to Lauren? When he told her he wouldn’t ever love anyone the way he loved her, he’d been telling the truth. He needed her like water, like air.
He would pray for her and he would look for her until he found her. As long as he lived he would look. And one day — he believed without a single doubt — he’d find her. And then they could go through the box of memories together and laugh at all the funny times they’d shared.
The stick figures and the stadium, and especially the drawing of the fighter jet. All of that and a baby too. He could hardly wait.
ELEVEN
Bill Anderson was in his office doing something he’d done every waking hour since Lauren left.
Talking to God.
He braced his elbows on his desk and covered his face with his hands. I’m back, God. I need to talk to you again about Lauren. His throat grew thick, and he held his breath to ward off the wave of sorrow. All he ever meant to do was love her. She was his precious girl, his only child. His daughter. Of course he wanted a bright future for her. Before Lauren’s pregnancy, if that future had included Shane, then wonderful. Everyone would win. But once a baby was involved . . .
Everything changed.
Bill forced himself to exhale. When he first learned about his daughter’s pregnancy, he was crushed. How he hated that his little girl would have to grow up too fast. But he didn’t embrace the idea of keeping her from Shane until he saw the shallow, biting reaction from the Galanters. Anger stirred in him again at the thought, and he shifted in his chair. How dare Sheila and Samuel make his daughter out to be nothing more than a cheap tramp! And that’s exactly how they treated her at the end. The more he thought about Lauren having the Galanters as in-laws, the more he felt angry and sick. She deserved so much more than that. But now, somehow everything had backfired.
God, I’m sorry. I took matters into my own hands, and now, well, I’m desperate. He made his hands into fists and pressed them against his eyes. He hadn’t let Angela see him cry much, but the tears were there. Any time he thought about Lauren. Every few minutes he had an overwhelming desire to get in the car and drive after her, search the highways and byways from Chicago to California until he found her, until he could hold her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was.
I only meant to love her, Lord. Forgive me for not listening to her, for thinking I had all the answers. Give me a second chance with her, please. She’s all alone out there, and she needs us. She needs us more than she knows. Thank you, God. He straightened and lowered his hands to his desk. He still had work to do that day, not the kind that used to keep his attention. But phone calls and meetings with a private investigator, someone who might help him find his daughter.
He pulled a list close and noticed that his hands were trembling. He missed her so much it was a physical pain, an ache slicing right through him. It was there when he woke up and when he turned off the lights each night. Where was she and what was she doing? How was she getting by without her their help?
He let out a shaky sigh. His prayer was right on. Wherever she was, his little girl needed him, the way she always had. But now he understood something he hadn’t before.
How desperately he needed her too.
The truth was beginning to sink in.
Lauren was gone from their lives and she wasn’t coming back. Three months had passed, and none of their efforts had made a bit of difference. Angela finished cleaning the kitchen and put the kettle on. Tea was always good at this time of the morning, something to give her day a sense of normalcy. As if she wasn’t dying a little more every day.
Bill was home because it was Monday, the day he’d dedicated to finding Lauren.
“The business can do without me one day a week,” he’d told her. “I can’t stop looking. Not ever.”
The kettle began to rattle, the water inside halfway to boiling. She leaned back and surveyed her kitchen. It was bright an dairy, the sort of kitchen in the sort of home she and Bill had always dreamed of having. But the dream never materialized, because always it had included Lauren. She should’ve been there, enjoying her upstairs bedroom, excited about her senior year in high school.
Her loss was a constant ache for both of them, the way it would be until they found her. She crossed her arms and heard Bill coming in from the other room. “Making tea?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him as he walked through the doorway. “Want some?”
“Sure.” He took up his position opposite her, the kitchen island between them. “I have an appointment with another investigator. He wants more information, anything we can remember about her past. Things that might be significant.”
Angela took another mug from the cupboard and gave him a sad smile. “Shane Galanter.” She shrugged one shoulder. “That’s the most significant thing, right?”
He slumped a little. “Right.” He blinked an
d his eyes looked wet. “Pastor Paul’s coming over again tonight. There’s three more to the Bible study we’re doing.”
Bible studies and meetings with pastors, all of it was so new to them. Why hadn’t they found the richness of faith before, back when they were still living the perfect dream life, before Shane and Lauren fell to temptation and life turned upside down? How different things might’ve been if she and Bill had made faith more important to their daughter. To themselves.
The kettle began to whistle, low and steady. She flipped the burner off and poured the tea. “I love meeting with him. Everything he’s showing us, it’s just what we need.”
Bill bit his lip. “It’s what we needed years ago.” He took his tea, moved around the kitchen island and kissed her tenderly. “I’m sorry, Angela. I’ll tell you every day until we find her. It’s my fault she left.” He pulled back a few inches. “You asked me to think it through, and I didn’t do it. I thought . . . I thought I was protecting her, loving her.”
“I know.” She lifted her eyes to her husband. “We have to keep praying.”
“And searching.” He took the tea and headed back toward the doorway and the den around the corner. “I have a few phone calls to make before I meet with the PI. I’m guessing by now she’s enrolled in college somewhere. The PI wanted me to make a list of the schools she might’ve been interested in.”
“Okay.” She watched him go. First it had been a search on Lauren’s license plate, and then a search of the hotels she might’ve stayed in along the way. Next it was hotels in California, and now they were moving on to colleges.
It all felt so futile.
The only bit of searching that had turned up anything at all was the license plate check. According to the information found by the first investigator, Lauren had sold her car in New Mexico. Clearly she must’ve used the money to buy a new car, but that’s where the trail died off. Angela picked up her tea and remembered back, the way she always did at this time of the day. There had been no warnings, no sign that her daughter was about to bolt. Lauren had spent the night at Emily’s side, and when she left at four-thirty that morning, it was with the promise that she’d come back after she got some sleep.
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