by Kate Meader
Oh, Gunnar. She should text back, call him, something. While considering her options, another text came in, but not from him. This was from Jenny.
Where are you? We have an emergency. Lauren’s missing.
35
Sadie jumped out of the cab, raced to the Isners’ front door, and banged hard.
“Sadie, I’ve got this!” Jenny exited the cab and came up behind her. Before she could use her key, the door flew open. Nick stood there.
“How long has she been missing?” A screeching Sadie just about managed not to grab Nick by the shirt collar and shake him. They’d already talked to him on the cab ride over but she needed to hear it again.
His worry was palpable. “I checked on them last about an hour ago and they were playing video games. The hockey one. Jason said they got into a fight about something and she left. But he didn’t come tell me immediately. He said she left about 10:30, so about an hour ago.”
Sadie had stopped at the house to make sure Lauren hadn’t gone home. It was time to call the police, but first things first.
“Can I talk to Jason?”
“Of course.”
Sadie walked briskly into the house. Both Jason and Sean stood at the kitchen island, looking like a truck had rolled over them.
“Hey, Jason, any idea where she might have gone?”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t want to move to LA. She wanted me to run away with her. I told her I couldn’t—” He looked over her shoulder at his mom and dad. “She called me a pussy and I was kind of mad at her. So when she left, we didn’t tell anyone. I tried texting her but she won’t answer. I figured she was just angry. But then Dad came in asking about her so I had to fess up. I’m really sorry.”
Panic waved over Sadie. She searched each face before her. “Where would she go?”
“Maybe the practice rink.”
Sadie turned at the sound of Gunnar’s voice. She’d ended their text exchange with a few hasty words about Lauren. He’d come right over, and she was never so relieved to see anyone.
“Do you think that’s likely?”
Gunnar rubbed his beard. “I’ll call the facility security.” He stepped away.
Sadie faced Jason again. “When she asked you to run away with her, what was the plan?”
Sean answered instead. “First of all, she wanted to hang out in our den like Eleven in Stranger Things. She thought we could build a shelter with blankets and keep it a secret.”
That only worked in eighties-inspired kids’ shows low on parental supervision, and Sadie’s expression must have said so.
Jason frowned. “Yeah. I told her there’s no way my mom would stay away from there. She’s really nose—uh, involved.”
“Anything else?”
Before he could respond, Gunnar came back and placed a hand on her shoulder. “No sign of her. I asked security to keep an eye out.”
Sadie turned back to the boys. “If you know anything at all, please.”
“We don’t! We’ve told you everything.”
Nick stepped forward and put a protective arm around his son. “It’s okay, Jason. We’re not mad at you.”
Jason squirmed. “She threw that rock through the window at her house.”
Sadie gasped. “She told you this?”
“Yeah, she said you were, uh, kissing Gunnar and that was the best way to stop it. She likes you.” The “you” was directed at Gunnar.
“What about the graffiti? Did she do that?” But she couldn’t have. It happened while they were at the hockey game and Lauren was under her eye the whole time.
Jason slid a guilty look at Sean, who spoke up. “I did it.”
“Sean!” Jenny threw up her hands. “How could you?”
“She said it would scare Sadie,” Sean said, as if it were perfectly reasonable. Jenny had described her oldest son as the analytical one. “She thought Sadie might ask to move in here and then Mom and Dad might offer Lo a place to stay. Become her foster parents.”
The weird workings of the tween mind.
“She misses her dad,” Jason said. “She wants to stay in town for him.”
Sadie sought out Gunnar, the only person she felt she could trust right now. He was watching her, not anyone else.
“Worth a shot?”
“Definitely,” Gunnar said, knowing exactly what needed to be done. “Come on.”
They headed out to the car, just as Sadie’s phone rang with a call from Allegra, a follow-up to the ten-plus texts she’d already sent tonight. Sadie let it go to voicemail and called her father’s lawyer to explain the situation. “I know it’s outside visiting hours but would they let her in?”
The lawyer assured them that they would not. She hung up and turned to Gunnar. “Maybe she’s waiting for Cook County Correctional to open tomorrow so she can slip in?”
“Try calling her again.”
It went straight to voicemail.
“What about texting? Harder to ignore.” He shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. She took a deep breath, thinking about how to begin. Then she put thumb to text.
Sadie: Hey Lauren, I’m worried. So worried. And I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I need a word that you’re okay. Say anything.
Nothing. “I think we need to call the police. This isn’t working.”
“Try again.” Gunnar stroked her arm. “Tell her what’s in your heart.”
The bitterness, the recrimination, the blame she’d assigned to her father and Zoe— valid, perhaps, but not how to win over her sister. And after reading that letter from Zoe, Sadie saw now that it wasn’t as black-and-white as her teenage memory had painted it. Zoe had her own problems and Sadie must have been a handful. After dealing with Lauren for the last few weeks, she recognized how hard that must have been for her stepmother.
She tried again.
Sadie: I know I haven’t been there for you. I missed birthdays, celebrations, everything. I wasn’t the sister you needed and now I’m the sister you don’t want.
I’m going to be honest with you. My dad preferred your mom and you over me. I don’t blame your mom. I did once, but not now. She married Dad and had a grieving, angry teenager to manage. I didn’t make it easy on her and neither of us regretted parting ways when I turned 18.
Well, not entirely true. I had one huge regret. I left you behind. Sweet, baby Lo. You had just turned two. I remember checking in on you and your chubby little cheeks were so pink and pretty. I said a little prayer and put Iggy in your crib and then I left while I still had strength in my legs.
Each year on your birthday, I sent a card.
Now wasn’t the time to tell her what happened to those cards. But she refused to pretend she hadn’t tried, even if that effort was less than perfect.
When I tried to reach out … well, that’s another story. After a while, I stopped trying. I figured you wouldn’t remember me anyway. The pain of rejection outweighed any hope I had that we could be friends. That we could be sisters.
“It says delivered, but I don’t think she’s reading.”
“Give it a second,” he murmured, so calm and soothing.
She typed in more. Better to let it out.
I’m not the best person. I was jealous that Dad loved you more. That he still loves you more. That hurts and I’m sorry I let it affect everything. I need to know you’re safe. Please.
She waited. And waited.
“This isn’t work—oh, the dots!”
“Really?” Gunnar grabbed the phone. “Knew it.”
They both held the phone, shoulders touching, fingers brushing, and watched as the dots continued to taunt them.
Finally, a text came back with three amazing words:
I’m okay, dummy.
Sadie snatched a breath, but really she was choking back a sob. She hit dial and after two rings, Lauren answered.
“I’m at home,” her little sister said, her voice rusty.
“Are you safe?”
Lauren sniffed. “Of course I am.”
“We’re a few minutes out. Is Coop with you?”
“Yeah, and he stinks.”
“Well, he can’t help it. Where did you go?”
“I walked around, but I saw you show up at the house, so I hid in the garden. I came back to get my stuff.”
“What was the plan?”
“Go see Dad. I had planned to wait until tomorrow but then I had a fight with Jason.”
Sadie heaved a sigh of relief as they pulled up to the house. She attacked the front door and made a beeline for the living room where Lauren was camped out on the sofa, Coop at her feet like the good doggo he was.
“I’m going to hug you so don’t even think of stopping me, you little monster.”
Lauren’s teary “okay” was muffled against Sadie’s shoulder.
“Tell me what you need, Lauren.”
Lauren raised her head, her silver eyes brilliant with emotion. “To see Dad before we go. One last time.”
Sadie couldn’t stand it. She wasn’t inflexible, like her father. She had the capacity to adapt and steer the course of her own ship.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. We’ll go see Dad tomorrow. Then we’ll figure out a plan for staying here.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I thought—I thought LA was where I was supposed to be but it’s just a place. We can be in any place, so why not here?”
Lauren’s mouth fell open. “But this place will be sold, won’t it?”
“Okay, not literally this place. But Chicago.” She’d run from this city and her past for too long. Time to stay put and figure it out. “I have to wrap up some stuff in LA, find a job here, and find a place for us to live. But from now on, we make all the decisions together.”
Lauren wiped a tear away. “I have to tell you something.”
“Shoot.”
“I—I broke the window. That one.” She pointed, as if the broken window was one of many possibilities.
“I see. Well, I expect you had your reasons.”
She sniffed. “I was mad at you. For everything.”
Sadie nodded, remembering what that was like. What it was still like. “Good reasons.”
“And I painted graffiti on the door. Well, not me. I asked someone to do it.”
“Which door?”
Lauren’s expression turned questioning. “The one you—that Gunnar—painted.”
Sadie shrugged. “No idea what you’re talking about. That door needed a refresh.”
Her sister gave a watery smile. “Did you really send me birthday cards?”
Sadie nodded. One day, she might give them to Lauren but for now she’d let her sister hold on to the faith she still had in her father. She had already lost so much.
Lauren picked up her bear. “And did you really give me Iggy?”
Oh, her heart. How would it survive this night? “Yes, I did. I sewed that heart onto his chest to make him more mine, but I wanted to leave something with you. Something that meant a lot to me and to let you know I hadn’t forgotten you, my baby sister.”
Lauren’s tears fell more easily now. “I thought Mom gave him to me. She used to try to take him away to wash him but I was worried she’d throw him out because he was old. She never told me he was yours.”
Sadie had thought it a strange gift from Zoe, who could have taken it any time and disposed of it. But now, after reading Zoe’s letter, she knew better. Her stepmother wanted to keep that sisterly bond alive, but perhaps she worried Sadie would only end up disappointing Lauren. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t fess up about Iggy’s history.
“I’m sorry. I know it must be disappointing to hear he wasn’t from your mom.”
Her sister shook her head. “No, she gave me other stuff. I’m glad you gave Iggy to me. I’m glad he used to be yours.”
Sadie poked at the heart she’d sewn on. “I should have asked if I could fix him up. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
Lauren thought on that for a while, then nodded her assent. “I’m sorry I called you a stupid cow.”
“It’s okay. We’re going to fight a lot, because that’s a sister thing. We’ll figure it out because sisters do that, too.”
Lauren wrinkled her nose, making her look a little like Sadie in that moment. “You can call me Lo. If you want to.”
Sadie fought past the lump the size of Iggy in her throat. “Okay.”
“There’s one other thing we need to do,” Lauren said, her lovely face as serious as ever. And then she told her and Sadie’s heart eased for the first time in days.
Gunnar sat at the kitchen island in Sophie’s kitchen, his mind clearer than it had been in months. His clothes smelled of smoke. His hands were scraped and grazed. But he’d never felt more alive. More present. At Lauren’s request, they’d set the deceased Christmas tree on fire in the back yard. It would have had to go before the auction anyway, but this way, Lauren had a say in its exit.
Thank God she was safe. Thank God they both were.
Learning that Lauren was behind the property damage meant they were no longer in any danger. Never had been. Gunnar had no excuse to be here anymore, except the best excuse of all: he loved Sadie Yates.
Something had changed tonight. He’d told Sadie about the accident and what followed. It was a start, and with Sadie staying in Chicago, maybe they could use it as the first building block. Maybe she’d give him another chance.
But more than a chance, he wanted a life with her. He wanted to embrace the joy she brought out in him and fill his heart with everything Sadie.
She came into the kitchen, surprise on her face. God, she was so pretty. “You’re still here.”
“Where would I go?”
“I thought you’d be done with all the drama.” She walked to the fridge and took out two beers, then passed one over as she leaned against the island.
“Thanks for helping tonight. With everything.”
“How is she?”
“Worn out. I hope I’m making the right call in staying here. I just know that dragging her to LA right now is not good for her.”
“I’m glad you’re staying.”
Those silver-starred eyes, guarded, wounded, studied him before she twisted off the beer cap. “Are you?”
“Did you read my messages tonight?”
“You know I did.” She gave him that lovely smile, the sad one rather than the hooky one. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I know it can’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. I’m not a talker.”
“You don’t have to be. It’s always been easier for us to talk as if we were strangers. Meeting in real life was both the best and worst thing that could have happened. It halted the intimacy we were building before but …”
“But what?”
“It had to happen.” He must have looked confused because she went on. “As awesome as the texting versions of us were, we were hiding behind the technology. Only willing to take it so far. And when we finally met, we both got scared because we couldn’t hide behind our screens anymore. I think we knew there was something there and we didn’t want to give up on it, but neither did we want to open it up for examination. Better to compartmentalize. I knew I wanted more, I knew we could be more, but I agreed to take the crumbs you offered and stay in sex limbo because something was better than nothing.”
“Sex limbo? What the hell is that?”
“It’s the place you visit when you can’t stay away from each other but you don’t want to talk about it. Ever.”
She was right about that. “But we’re not there anymore. We’ve moved on. Haven’t we?” He might have sounded a little too hopeful.
“I think so. I hope so. I want us to be there for each other. A team. We can’t keep the sex part in one box and the talking part in another. At least, I can’t.”
He couldn’t do that either. He’d tried but flings weren’t his jam, sex without feeling didn’t do it for him. Not that
sex with Sadie had ever been without feeling. From the first touch, he’d been stripped to the bone, his nerves raw conductors for the energy between them. The potential of them.
“The boxes have been opened, Sadie.” He waved his hands to indicate magical woo woo.
Her mouth quirked. “I know.”
Good, she understood. “So we’re on the same page.”
“If the same page is you getting the therapy you need.”
The T word. Of course the Cali girl would bring it out. “I thought you wanted to be my therapy.”
“I never said that. I said I wanted to be here for you, to listen, to be someone you can lean on. You were the one who worried about becoming a burden.
“But talking to me won’t be enough for you, Gunnar.” She closed the gap between them and placed a hand on his hip. “You need professional help.”
“What? No, I—I don’t. I’m getting through this. I’ve come further in the last three weeks than I have in three years.”
“I know, but your grief is complicated. All those things you said in the text messages tonight—that’s only the beginning.”
No, this wasn’t fair. He’d done what she asked. “I told you things.” The accident. The pain. The soul-crushing guilt. “I haven’t told that stuff to anyone.”
She smiled, so serene. “I’m so grateful that you did. Do you feel better?”
“No!”
And still she smiled. “You’re feeling raw right now. It’s a good first step. A great first step. But you just said you didn’t want me to be your therapy. You don’t want to weigh me down with your troubles.”
This reeked of a trap. “I don’t.”
“So, don’t. Take some of those millions you’ve earned and pay someone to walk you through it. Talk to someone who understands a grief like yours. I can help but only up to a point. Show me you want to put in the work.”
He’d come this far and it wasn’t enough for her. He would happily talk his glutes off if she’d only listen, preferably late at night while he held her tight.
He had one more shot on the net, one more chance to claim victory. He launched the puck from his blade.
“Sadie, I—” I love you. This would win her. This is what she needed to hear.