Panic made her heartbeat race, her palms sweat. How could she fix this? She realized that as she moved away from the street, the crowd began to thin. She squeezed past families and gum-chewing teens until she cleared most of the mob. In the middle of the block, there was a statue of tires with rubber balls shooting out the top, and she climbed onto the cement base to get a better view around her. There was Dad’s red baseball cap bobbing in the pack, moving up the slight hill along the parade route.
“Dad!” she shouted, then realized how lame that was with dozens of dads on this block alone. “Daniel O’Neil!”
But he didn’t turn around. He seemed to be talking with Mom. Engrossed, probably.
She took a calming breath. It was okay. She would catch up with them. And she had her cell phone. Her cell phone! Why didn’t she think of that in the first place? With an easy breath of relief, she took the phone from her pocket and called Mom.
As it was ringing, she looked out over the parade. Some guys in hardhats were walking down the street, waving and tossing candies out to the crowd. From here she had a clear view of the bare street and the opposite side, where a group of boys sat on the curb, an old man sat in a wheelchair, and a little girl swung herself around a lamppost.
The phone was still ringing as she watched the girl, a cute kid with hair that golden shade of Mac’s. The girl seemed to be singing to herself, despite the chatter of the crowd and the noise of an approaching marching band, a cacophony of brass and drums.
Lauren smiled. Did all kids sing to themselves?
Wait.
Flashes of Mac, swinging on a post of the fence, singing to herself.
Holding up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she saw the truth.
It was Mac. Her Mac.
Her face had thinned out a little. Her chubby cheeks were more girl-like, not so babyish anymore. But her silver blue eyes and fine-boned face were unmistakable. “Mac!” Lauren cupped her hands to her mouth to try to get her daughter’s attention, but no one could hear over the passing high school band.
She jumped from the platform and dove into the crowd. People protested when she squeezed in front of them, but she there was no time to explain. She peeled between two men and pushed through, stumbling onto the pavement beside some boys sitting on the curb. Cinders scraped her palms, but she scrambled up to find Mac.
From here she could see across between the rows of legs marching in red pants. The lamppost was right across from her, but she didn’t see Mac.
She scrambled to her feet and raced across the street as soon as the band marched past. People yelled and laughed at her as she honed in on the lamppost and paused.
Where was Mac?
The man in the wheelchair was still there, but he shook her questions off. No one else on the street corner had noticed Mac, though one nice lady offered to help her look.
“No, thanks,” Lauren said.
There was one thing she knew for certain: Mac had been here in Mirror Lake this afternoon. Her daughter was nearby.
After the parade, Mom and Dad used both cars to drive slowly through the neighborhood, but there was no sign of Mac. Dad insisted on putting ointment on Lauren’s hands from his first aid kit, while Mom called the incident in to Hank Todd.
After the anxiety of being lost and just missing her daughter, Lauren was wiped out. “Can we just go home?” she asked her parents.
“Let’s make an appearance,” Mom said. “Julia is probably my best friend, and she really wants to see you. Besides, I know she’s invited Jazz.”
Lauren steeled herself to make it through the party for Mom’s sake.
The backyard barbecue was in full swing by the time they arrived. The kitchen table and counters were loaded with salads and desserts.
Mom’s friend Julia gave Lauren a big hug. “I hope we get a chance to talk later. I’ve got some funny stories you can tease your mom about.”
Julia directed someone to check the downstairs fridge, then pointed to the salads. “All the perishables are in here. Drinks are in the coolers outside, burgers and hot dogs by the grill.”
Outside, rock music mixed with laughter and conversation in a garden edged by thick patches of flowers.
Julia told Lauren that the teens were over in the garage around the side of the house. “They’ve got music and a Ping-Pong table set up in there. Oh, and Jazz is there. He was asking about you,” Julia said with a smile.
Lauren couldn’t wait to tell him that she’d seen Mac.
From the backyard, there were stone steps and a path that led down the hill and around the side of the house to the garage. This side of the house was well shaded by a stand of tall yew trees that allowed a lot of privacy from the neighbors and the street.
The door of the single bay was open. Lauren peered into the shadows at the old chair and couch, table, fridge, and dartboard. Three kids sat on the couch, kids who had come to the get-together on the Fourth. The one guy, Andy, was laughing, while Kiki was drinking from a glass vase and the other girl was dozing with her mouth open.
“Hey.” Lauren stepped into the dimness to let her eyes adjust. Scented candles were burning, and Lauren got a whiff of sweet cotton candy mixed with burnt cherry.
“How’s it going?” Andy said with a wary glance.
Lauren stared at the glass vase and suddenly realized it was some sort of pipe. These kids were smoking. Marijuana? She wasn’t sure. For all his craziness, Kevin didn’t do any drugs. Beer, yes. Not drugs.
She shifted, uncomfortable, but not wanting to sit down with them. She thought about the time she’d spent with them at the other party. They had been sort of standoffish, though the girls all seemed to like Jazz. Now she wondered how much they knew about her, about the kidnapping and her time in the compound. About what Kevin did to her, which everyone was curious about. Were these kids discussing the sick details when she wasn’t around?
She did not want to hang out here. “Have you seen Jazz around?”
The guy pointed a thumb to the wall behind him. “Around the side,” he said, taking the glass pipe from the girl.
“Okay. Thanks.”
A small barrier of spruce trees blocked the side of the garage. She walked down a few feet to a small space between the trees that seemed to be used as a passageway. Peeking through, she saw Jazz leaning against the wall of the garage, talking with Nora, who had her back to Lauren.
“I can understand you feeling sorry for her,” Nora was saying. “I mean, yeah, I get it. But I can tell you two aren’t serious. My mom says that rape colors every relationship you have in your life. Lauren isn’t going to go there.”
Jazz said something, but his voice was so low Lauren couldn’t make it out.
“I just don’t want you to be hurt,” Nora said, stepping closer to him so that he was backed against the garage. “The thing is, you deserve better. Someone new and sparkly.” She put her hands up on his shoulders. “Someone like me.”
Stunned, Lauren stepped out from behind the spruce. She needed to see the assault, the flash of the blade, the plunge of the knife.
But her appearance caught Jazz’s attention, and he turned his head toward her just as Nora rose on her toes to kiss him.
“Lauren!” He stiffened and his arms shot out awkwardly, pushing Nora off balance.
Turning quickly, Lauren squeezed through the spruce barrier and fled up the path, taking the stone steps two at a time.
“Lauren, wait!” Jazz called after her.
Her vision blurred with tears, but she swiped them away to survey the party guests. She had to get out of here, now.
Dad was over by a bright patch of flowers, talking with some men. Where was Mom? She spotted her moving away from the crowd, heading for the deck stairs.
Sniffing back tears, Lauren darted over. “Mom?”
“Hey, honey, I was just heading into the kitchen to—”
“Take me home.” Her voice was thick with congestion and tears.
Rachel squi
nted as she caught on to Lauren’s state of mind. “What happened?”
“Just . . . just take me home, please.”
“Okay.” Mom’s voice was a calm whisper as she put an arm around Lauren and pulled her close. “I know a secret path through the garden so we can avoid the kitchen and the garage.” She guided Lauren steadily, bright and sure as the North Star. “You just hang on and I’ll have you home in a flash.”
Chapter 50
Rachel stared at the closed door of Sierra’s room, her mouth dry, her heart aching. Inside the bedroom that Lauren and Sierra now seemed to share, Lauren was crying. Sobbing.
Something was very wrong, but Lauren wouldn’t talk about it. She had maintained her composure in the car, thanking Rachel for taking her home. And once inside the house, she’d lied, saying that she would be fine, that she needed time alone. Rachel wanted to respect that, give her space. She had learned to treat Lauren as the young woman she had become, not a malleable little girl anymore.
Damn time alone.
Rachel leaned toward the door, broke down, and knocked. “Lauren? I’m coming in.” She wasn’t going to give her a chance to say no.
Inside, evening sunlight lit the fine tulle sheers with purple flowers embroidered at the bottom. Lauren sat huddled on the bed. Hunched over her legs, she wiped her nose with the back of one hand.
“What happened, Lauren?”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t fix it, Mom. No one can.”
Rachel paused, an island in the center of the room. “But if you tell me the details, we can discuss it and search for insight. Try to find solutions together. That’s what families do.”
“So you can call your good friend Julia and tell her to keep her daughter on a leash. Her daughter who was smoking pot with her friends and kissing Jazz and telling him that he’s wasting his time with me because I’m a . . . a used up old . . .” A sob cracked her voice and she turned to the wall.
Rachel pressed her palms together in prayer position, her fingertips to her lips. “I won’t call Julia,” she said firmly, “but I can’t believe Nora would stoop so low.”
“Well, she did.” She picked up Sierra’s’ stuffed elephant and pressed it to her face. “She said terrible things about me, Mom. And the thing is, I know lots of people are thinking those things. And Jazz, I thought he was different, but when I got there I . . . I think he was kissing Nora back.”
“Oh, Lauren.” Rachel had to tamp down the fury she felt toward the young people at the party. Nora was a huge disappointment; Jazz, too. Couldn’t they see how vulnerable Lauren was right now? She had come so far over the summer. She had grown strong and independent. She had found her voice. It seemed so unfair that her first forays into friendship would be met with backstabbing and rejection.
Rachel longed to take her daughter in her arms and rock her like a baby. Maybe that instinct would never evolve, but Rachel had learned how to approach her wary daughter without making her bolt. She went to the bed and tapped her thigh. “Scooch over,” she said. When Lauren did, she sat beside her, her eyes looking away in a nonconfrontational stance. When she sensed Lauren softening against her, she put an arm around her shoulders and held her close.
“Tell me what happened.”
And Lauren did, every painful detail, in her blatantly honest manner. She didn’t exaggerate; she didn’t need to. The truth was loaded with drama.
“And now I’m beginning to see it in the way people look at me. The perverted, sick things they’re imagining when they look at me. It’s like I’m wearing a scarlet letter. A big K for kidnap victim.” Lauren sniffed. “No one is ever going to love me. I’ll always get the nervous look. People look at me and they remember what Kevin did to me. They know he ruined me. They know I’m scarred inside. Ruined. No one will ever love me.”
“But I do.” Rachel struggled to keep her voice steady. “I look at you and I see the light inside.”
“Of course you see it,” Lauren said dismissively. “You’re my mother.”
“But I’m not alone. There’s your dad and Sierra. Other people see it, too. They don’t see Kevin Hawkins or what he did to you. They look at you and see a bright, honest, beautiful young woman who has battled through more obstacles in six years than most of us face in a lifetime. They see a survivor.”
“I’m just so sick of being damaged.”
Lauren’s words tore at Rachel, but at the same time Lauren snuggled against her, yearning for comfort and reassurance. That, Rachel could do.
“You spent six years in a terrible place. And you’ve been working hard these last three months to heal from it.” Rachel stroked Lauren’s golden hair, gathering it away from the damp nape of her neck. “I know that parts of your heart have healed already, while others will take time. But time will change other people, too. Some will get to know you and be attracted to who you are. Others, people on the fringe, over time they’ll forget what happened. Your connection to the kidnapping will fade away to a whisper of memory.”
“I hope you’re right. I don’t want to be broken for the rest of my life.”
“Honey, we’re all broken in some way. What matters is the care we take putting the pieces back together. And half the time, the re-creation is more wonderful than the old teacup we started with.”
“I hope you’re right, Mom.” Lauren’s chest swelled as she took a deep breath. The air stirred against Rachel’s neck, reassuring, as her daughter exhaled with a new glaze of calm.
Hugging her daughter close, Rachel closed her eyes and let her mother love flow. It was going to be okay. Oh, there would always be more storms to weather, but holding on to each other, they could wait for the break in the clouds. The bright patch of blue. As long as they kept holding on.
Chapter 51
The moment her boots hit the gravel of the ranch driveway, Lauren headed straight for the barn to find Jazz. She had a session scheduled with Wynonna, but she didn’t want to lean on Jazz’s mom to pick up the pieces and sort out Lauren’s relationship with him. This was her relationship—a friendship, at the very least—and though her face tingled with embarrassment already, Lauren knew she had to take responsibility for straightening things out.
She found him in the barn, working with the farrier who’d come to replace the horses’ shoes. They were in Flicker’s stall, where the farrier stood bent over with one of the horse’s rear hooves propped between his legs.
“Jazz.” She kept her voice low, pretending to be calm. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” Jazz backed out of Flicker’s stall. “Be right back.”
“Hold on.” The farrier looked up. He was a tall man with a mustache and no hair on his shiny head. “Is this the girl who’s been taking care of Yoda?”
“It is. Lauren O’Neil, meet Dusty Jenson. He already put some new shoes on Yoda.”
Lauren nodded at the man, whose eyes seemed stern.
“Lauren, I want to know where you learned to pick out a horse’s hoof.”
She shot Jazz a nervous look. “Right here. Jazz taught me.”
Dusty shook his head. “I’ve never seen a frog looking so clean, especially after a few days of rain and mud. Good job, girl. Keep at it.”
Relief and pride lifted her spirits. “Thanks, Dusty.”
Without speaking, the two young people went to the side of the barn that was out of view of the house.
“Did you tell your mother?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I will, but I wanted to square things with you first. I called your cell and left you two texts.”
“I know. I don’t feel right talking about important things over the phone.” Neither of them was looking at the other. It was as if a river flowing between them was tugging them off to the side.
“I didn’t kiss her,” he said. “I didn’t even want to go to that party, but the lady, Julia, she called and told me you’d be there. I only went for you.”
“You don’t have to explain to me, Jazz.”
> “But I do. I do care about you, Lauren. A lot. Sort of like a sister, but sort of more than that, too. But when you put a label on it, everything sounds kind of strained and lame. You know what I mean?”
She did. “I’m in about the same place,” she said earnestly. “I don’t think of you as a boyfriend, but it hurt me to see you with Nora.”
“That would have been a betrayal,” he said. “But it wasn’t the way it looked. She sort of cornered me. I guess I should have seen it coming, because I knew she was flirting when I saw her on the Fourth. But a lot of people flirt. No harm in that. I just . . . I don’t know. I feel like an idiot, getting myself into that situation. Even if you hadn’t come along, which was awful, I would have had to peel her off me. Awkward. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. That’s my bad.”
She shrugged. “You didn’t break any rules. I mean, you’re not my boyfriend.”
“No, but . . . we have an understanding. At least I thought we did. The way we work together and talk and all. We’re like two trees in the wind, bending in the same direction, swaying into each other. Two trees that stand beside each other.”
The image struck Lauren as beautiful. “Did you read that in a book?”
“Hell, no.” Jazz took off his hat and raked back his hair. “There’s something else. I’m not sure how much you heard, but Nora was saying some pretty nasty things about you.” He shifted, his mouth screwing up on one side. “I don’t even want to repeat it. I just have to tell you, I’m not hanging anywhere near that girl again, and I don’t think she’s a true friend to you.”
Lauren nodded. “No. She’s going off to college next week. No great loss.”
“Yeah.” He stuck his hat on and stepped toward her. “So are we cool?”
Looking up into his dark eyes, she saw trust and concern and respect. Beautiful eyes, a window to his noble soul. “We’re good.” On a whim, she put on hand on his shirt and rose up to the toes of her boots.
His eyes flared as she brought her lips to his, just for a quick touch. He leaned forward and deepened the kiss, sending her floating a few feet off the ground. When it ended, she thought she might crumple to the ground, but his arms came around her and held her to him.
And Then She Was Gone Page 26