Untethered

by Julie Lawson Timmer

  Char offered to find a pharmacy so they could pick up an antacid, but Allie shook her head. “The only cure is to tell her she doesn’t have to go back. She’s afraid about what’s going to happen.” Allie zipped up her duffel bag. “What is going to happen?”

  “Let’s talk about that,” Char said. “But not where she can overhear us.”

  Allie turned pale. “Is it bad?” she whispered. “Do you already know? Is it foster care?”

  Char pushed a strand of hair out of Allie’s eyes. “No, it’s not that,” she said. “And it’s nothing certain. I have an idea, but—”

  Morgan came out of the bathroom then, and Char and Allie bent over Allie’s duffel bag, pretending to be fiddling with the zipper.

  Outside, Allie told Morgan that she could use Allie’s iPod for the entire trip home if she sat in the back and let Allie sit up front with Char. Morgan squealed in delight and clapped her hands. Before they had been on the highway for an hour, she was asleep, headphones in her ears.

  “Okay,” Allie said, after checking to confirm the girl was truly sleeping. “Tell me. What idea do you have?”

  “Uncle Will called earlier,” Char whispered. Though Allie had checked on Morgan already, Char looked in the rearview mirror to see if there was any movement in the backseat. There was none, so she went on. “When I was at the desk, checking out. He talked to one of his colleagues. A law professor. He thinks there’s a way for me to look after Morgan—”

  “What?” Allie whispered, her eyes and mouth wide. She seemed to be using every bit of self-restraint she had to keep from yelling. “Oh my God!” she whispered. “When did you—? What about—? How can you—? Oh my God!”

  “I haven’t asked the Crews yet,” Char said. “But I’m hoping they’ll say yes.”

  “So, we would adopt her?”

  “No,” Char said. “I don’t think they’d agree to letting me adopt her, because they’d have to go to the court and give up their parental rights first, and that . . . comes with some risks for them. But there’s another option. It allows me to be responsible for Morgan, and everything in her life, and allows the Crews to avoid this formal, public production, which they don’t want.”

  “Why don’t they want that? What risks—?”

  “It’s a long story, with details you really don’t need to know and they wouldn’t want me to repeat. Let’s just leave it at this: there might be a way that I could raise Morgan, and they could raise Stevie. And between the two families, we could give each of these kids what they need.”

  Char checked the backseat again. Morgan’s breaths were still deep and slow. “We’re going to need to talk about that, though. About the things Morgan needs. I don’t want to get into it now, but you and I need to have a serious, and confidential, talk about . . . her . . . issues.”

  “You’re talking about the cutting.”

  Char nodded. “How long have you known about it?”

  “Only since I picked her up in Toledo,” Allie said. “She said she was worried about telling me before, in case I started not liking her. She says that’s what happened with her parents. Why they sent her away. I didn’t really know what to say. I hope I didn’t say the wrong thing.”

  “I don’t know what you should have said, either,” Char said. “But whatever you said, I’m sure it was fine. We’ll talk about it more, though. About what to say, what not to say, how to help. You, me, Morgan, and her therapist. Assuming the Crews say yes, I mean. We can’t jump the—”

  “Why would they say no?” Allie asked. “If they don’t want her and you do?”

  “I can’t think of a reason,” Char said. “But people don’t always do what you think they’re going to do. So, I’m trying not to get too excited about it until I’ve talked to them. And I think you’d better do the same.”

  “Pull over now!” Allie said. “Pull over at the next exit and call them! Why wait? Why not find out as soon as we can? And then we can wake Morgan up and tell her the good news! She’ll flip!”

  “I think it’s a conversation that’s better had in person,” Char said. “Or at least later, when we’re not all on the highway, trying to focus on driving. Dave and Sarah are probably still on their way home, too.”

  “Are you sure?” Allie said. “We’re seven hours from home! Are you sure you want to wait that long?”

  “I’m sure one of us doesn’t want to,” Char said, smiling. She patted Allie’s leg. “But I want to talk to you about it a little more, anyway, before I broach the subject with them.”

  “I’m in,” Allie said. “I don’t care why they gave her away, what she did, how many issues she has. So, if that’s what you—”

  “No, it’s not that. I figured you’d feel that way. What I wanted to talk to you about is this: I would love it if you would stay in Mount Pleasant until the end of high school. Whether the Crews allow me to keep Morgan or not, I would love to have you.

  “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. It won’t hurt my feelings at all. I won’t fall apart. Your mom is your mom, and I will totally understand if you want to be with her. But no matter what you decide to do, I want you to know that I want you with me. I want to be very clear about that. I should’ve been clear about it months ago.”

  “Yes! I want to stay!”

  “Even if the Crews—”

  “It’s not about Morgan,” Allie said. “It’s about . . . everything. I want to stay.”

  Char didn’t want to wake Morgan so she mouthed “Yaaaaaay!” to the windshield and turned to Allie, her smile wider than she’d known it could get. “Yay!” she whispered, grabbing the girl’s hand and squeezing.

  Allie smiled back, squeezed back, and whispered, “Yay!”

  They grinned at each other and held hands and whispered more “yay”s for a while longer, and then Char said, “I’m going to talk to your mom about this. Give it my best shot. But there’s a chance she’ll say no. And what if she does? What if your mom wants you to go home at the end of the school year? Or sooner, even. Will you feel, you know, left out? If you have to go, and Morgan’s here with me?”

  “Yes,” Allie said. “Absolutely.”

  It wasn’t the answer Char was hoping for. “Oh,” she said. “Well then, should I reconsider—?”

  “What? Of course not!”

  “I’m confused,” Char said.

  “Don’t decide not to go through with it because you’re worried about me feeling left out. That’s a terrible reason! I’d get over it. I want Morgan to be with you. She needs to be with you. I want to be with both of you, but if I can’t be, that shouldn’t ruin it for her.”

  “You’re an exceptionally caring person, Allie—”

  “Don’t be so quick to say how great I am. It’s easy for me to say go ahead without me, because I know it’ll never come to that. My mom doesn’t want me there, CC. When I was with her over spring break, it was so clear. She hasn’t done a thing to the guest room—you know, ‘my room.’” Allie put finger quotes around the words.

  “She hasn’t made a single change to her life so that she can have a kid there. She’s got five destination weddings booked for July alone. When I told her there was no way I was going to stay with a nanny, she gave me this funny look, like why would I need to stay with a nanny?

  “I told her, ‘You know, since I’m maybe moving here at the end of June, and those weddings are in July.’ And she had this panicked look on her face, like I was collecting some debt she forgot she owed. Honestly, I think she’s been hoping I’ll ask her if I can stay with you.”

  Char laughed. “I’ve been hoping the same thing. I was so afraid to ask you—”

  “And I was afraid to ask you,” Allie said. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me. And stuck in Michigan. I knew if I asked, you’d say yes, even if you wanted to say no.”

  “I’m sorry
I’ve been so stupid about it,” Char said. “To think I’ve been moping about it all this time.”

  “I was moping about it, too!”

  “Is that what all of that was about, before break?” Char asked. “All the tension? All the hiding out in your room? That whole thing about my carrying out your mom’s orders? Being gutless?”

  Allie nodded. “I wanted you to act like you were in charge of me. I wanted you to want to be in charge of me. I love my mom. I do. But she’s not cut out for full-time parenting. You are. I wanted you to act like my parent.”

  “And I was trying so hard not to parent you,” Char said, “because I didn’t want to be disrespectful, and I . . . never mind. It doesn’t matter now.” She laughed. “We’re such idiots. Me, most of all. I’m a grown-up. I should know better.” She laughed again.

  Char waited for Allie to laugh with her. But the girl dropped her shoulders and sighed instead. “I think my mom will be relieved to be let off the hook.” Turning to the window, she dropped her voice lower. “All this time, since my dad died, you’ve been waiting every day for me to say out loud that I want to stay in Mount Pleasant. Hoping I’d say I wanted to stay with you. I think she’s been hoping for me to say the exact same thing. You didn’t want to come right out and say you want me. She hasn’t wanted to come right out and say she doesn’t.

  “This will be a win/win for her. She doesn’t get stuck with the kid, and she doesn’t have to admit she didn’t want to get stuck with the kid. She’ll be able to spin this as something she’s doing for me. ‘My daughter wanted to stay up north and help Charlotte look after this poor little orphan girl. And what kind of mother would I be if I said no to that?’” She turned her head farther, moving her face out of Char’s view.

  Char rubbed the girl’s leg. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Allie said, in the too-quick way that showed it was anything but. She brought her arm up to the window and rested her head against it. She didn’t say any more, and soon her eyes closed and she was asleep.

  Char drove in silence for more than two hours while Allie alternately dozed and stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts. Morgan woke for a while, and the three of them chatted halfheartedly about nothing. Char spotted a roadside ice cream place and they all acted thrilled about it, though Char and Allie finished only half of their orders and Morgan stopped after about three bites and put a hand on her stomach.

  Char felt guilty for making the girl spend her trip in anxious exhaustion. But she knew that if she called the Crews with her idea and they said no, the drive would be that much worse for Morgan.

  Both girls slept after the ice cream stop. After a few more hours, Char filled the car tank with gas and bought herself a large coffee and some plain crackers. She munched and sipped in silence, checking her passengers every few minutes and saying a prayer of thanks that they were safe, and with her.

  A little south of Toledo, Allie lifted her head, swiveling to check on Morgan, who was snoring lightly. Turning to the front, Allie whispered, “I’m going to stop hanging out with Kate and the guys. I’m going to spend more time with Sydney, like before. I need to set a better example for Morgan.”

  “Okay,” Char said, trying to remain neutral.

  Allie grinned. “Oh, come on.”

  “What?” Char said. “Okay, fine. I’m glad you’re going to stop hanging out with them.”

  “Because . . . ?”

  “Because I agree with you, okay? They’re not a good influence. The smoking, the lack of manners. The fact that they’re not serious about school.”

  “There you go,” Allie said, smiling widely now and patting Char’s knee. “Good job.”

  “What?”

  “You’re supposed to tell me when you don’t think I’m hanging out with the right kind of people. That’s what parents do.”

  Char’s mouth fell open. “But all this time, any time I said one little thing, even joking, about them, you were so . . .”

  “Horrible?” Allie said, laughing.

  “Difficult, I’d have said. I thought that was because you were angry with me for not liking them.”

  “I was.”

  Char squinted at the teenager beside her and tilted her head sideways.

  Allie, still laughing, said, “You need to get better at some of the girl stuff, CC, if you’re going to have two of us to deal with.”

  • • •

  Two hours later, Char made the final turn of the trip, onto their street. Her two passengers had been asleep since Ann Arbor and the car had settled into a peaceful silence. She had left the radio off. The quiet was so different, compared to twenty-four hours earlier when Sarah was in the car. The trip south had been full of fear and worry and sadness. Northbound, she felt hope.

  Until she saw a strange car in her driveway.

  And Lindy, leaning against its hood.

  Forty-four

  Allie woke when the car stopped. “We’re home?” she asked, yawning. “Wait, who’s here? Is that the Crews’ car?” Instantly, she was sitting up straight, wide awake. She turned to the backseat to check on Morgan, who was still sleeping. “Will you go talk to them right now, so they don’t take her?”

  “It’s not the Crews,” Char said.

  “What?” Allie said. And then Lindy was at the passenger door. “What is she—?” Allie jumped out. “Mom? What are you doing here? When did you—?”

  Lindy opened her arms and Allie walked into them. “I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my life!” Lindy said, pressing her face into Allie’s hair and inhaling. “This has been the longest twenty-four hours—”

  “When did you get here?” Allie asked.

  “This morning. I took the red-eye last night.” Lindy turned to Char, who had walked to their side of the car. “That’s why I couldn’t call you last night,” Lindy said. “I was on the plane.”

  Char nodded slowly, realizing now. “And iMessage works on the plane. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I guess we don’t tell each other everything,” Lindy said.

  Allie stepped away from her mother and looked from one woman to the other. “What does that mean?”

  But Lindy kissed her daughter’s head instead of answering, and Char had more pressing matters on her mind. “How long are you staying?” she asked.

  “We’re on the first flight out of Detroit tomorrow morning.”

  “What do you mean, ‘we’?” Allie asked, regarding her mother suspiciously. “Who else is—?”

  “We are,” Lindy said, placing a palm on the top of Allie’s head and running it down the length of the girl’s hair. “You and me. We’ll ship your things. We’ll buy whatever you need until they arrive.”

  Char felt the little energy she’d had left drain away, and put a hand on the hood of the car to prop herself up.

  Allie snapped her head back, out of her mother’s reach. “What are you talking about? I’m not leaving tomorrow! I’m not leaving at all!” She aimed her thumb to Char’s backseat and the sleeping child inside. “We’re going to look after Morgan. I’m going to help! Char, tell her! Char’s going to ask Morgan’s parents if we can—”

  Lindy stepped toward Char’s car, peered into the back, and stepped away again, her expression unimpressed, as though she had been asked to view a piece of art she didn’t care for. “I’m afraid that’s not at all what you’re going to be doing. What you’re going to be doing is getting on a plane with me and coming home.”

  Turning to Char, she said, “I don’t know what kind of place you’re running here, Charlotte, or why you’d be under the impression that I’d even consider letting my daughter spend one more day with the girl who started all of this. Or with the woman under whose watch she managed to leave town unnoticed and drive three states away. A woman who felt no need to tell me about it.”

  “What kind
of place she’s running?” Allie said. “What are you talking about? It wasn’t Char’s fault! Did you hear what I told you when you called last night? About why I went after Morgan, what her parents did to her? What do you expect us to do now, send her back to them so they can do it again? Let her end up who knows where, with who knows what kind of people?”

  Char saw movement in the back of the car and craned her head to get a better view. Morgan had shifted in her sleep, but hadn’t woken. “Let’s take this somewhere else,” she whispered, pointing to the front walk on the other side of Lindy’s rental car. “I don’t think Morgan needs to wake up and hear us.”

  “I really don’t have anything more to say about it,” Lindy said, but she followed Char anyway.

  “Well, I do!” Allie said, following the women. When they reached the walk, Char and Lindy turned toward the driveway, their backs to the house, while Allie stood facing them. “I have a lot to say about it!” she said, hands on her hips. “Like, how unfair it is that all this time, you’ve been so . . . wishy-washy about when I’m going to move to California, and even whether I am.”

  “Allie,” Char said, her voice a warning. Pushing Lindy was never a good idea. If they wanted her to back down, they had to find a way to let it be her decision. Swing at Lindy and she would only swing back harder. “Let’s not use phrases like ‘wishy-washy.’ Let’s—”

  “No!” Allie said, facing Char. “Don’t try to defend her now. You always do that, and she hasn’t ever deserved it. She needs to hear this. I need to say it.” She turned back to her mother. “Wishy-washy,” she almost spat. “That’s what you’ve been. Even when I was asking you to take me with you, right after Dad died. Even when I practically begged you to take me. . . .”

  She raised a hand to wipe her eyes and gave Char a guilty look. Char shook her head, letting the girl know there was no need. She hadn’t known about Allie’s plea to move to Lindy’s right after her father’s death, but she could understand it. The only person who didn’t seem to understand it was Lindy.