by Jill Cooper
Damnit, Lara. My jaw clenches just like my hands. I wish she was right there with me so I could be angry. I just want her there.
A noise, a static, fills my hear. I cup my ear, but can barely make it out. Like whispers coming from another room. Then I realize it is a voice. A sweet tang, a naïve undertone.
“….It’s me. Lara.”
The voice is a whisper, but it’s unmistaken. If I can hear her, where the hell is she?
Chapter Two: Rick
Mom has circles under her eyes. Tired from her double shift at the diner, but her voice is jovial over dinner. Dad says next to nothing and I fill the gap with small talk. After dinner he retires to the living room like he always does and I help Mom clear the table.
The sink brims with bubbles and she wears the pink gloves I bought her last Christmas. Under the tight curls of her hair, she smiles and her face lights up. “I don’t know what I did to deserve so much attention today, but I have to say I’m loving it.”
“No problem, Mom. You worked hard.” I try to keep my voice even. She seems so happy and I don’t want to upset her.
“I’m a little surprised that Lara wasn’t here. Or that you weren’t there.” A playful grin spreads across her face. “You two have been inseparable for so long, I almost don’t recognize you when she’s not attached at your hip.”
I roll my eyes in good natured fun, but inside my heart panics. I don’t know where Lara is. I haven’t heard from her, but I don’t want to worry Mom. I also don’t want to talk about how I feel. Talking about stuff only makes it worse.
“Her dad is off work early today. Lara’s special request.” She wants him there when her mom reappears, or poofs back into reality. We spent so much time talking about what-ifs, but neither of us knew exactly how it will work. No one does.
“Oh well that’s nice. I know how lonely it must be for her. The only child. Home alone so much of the time.” She sighs and tosses me a dry dish cloth. “Put yourself to good use and then you can go see her.”
I do what I’m asked without question and if Mom suspects my mind is elsewhere, she doesn’t say anything. She hums the old show tunes she loves so much, Annie Got a Gun, Cabaret. The stuff her little girl dreams were made of. “Sing with me, boy.” She shoves her hip into mine and when I laugh she just does it harder.
But I do sing. I do because I love listening to her sing. Its one of those things that reminds me of being a kid. One of the happy memories that it didn’t matter how broke we were, or if I went to bed hungry because her beautiful singing voice could fill me. It was corny and stupid and if the guys are school found out, I’d deny it to my grave, but it was all true. It was part of me that only Mom saw. Not even Lara would ever know how much I loved those stupid old Broadway numbers.
I fold the dishcloth and place it on the counter when the floor beneath us rumbles. Mom sighs and shakes her head. “Those damn Johnsons and their television always blaring. They must think the whole building is as deaf as they are.” Mom grabs the broom in the corner and uses it to bang the floor.
But the grumble doesn’t stop like it usually does. Then Dad’s voice rings out from the living room. “Quick, come look!”
Mom and I share a glance. We hurry into the living room where Dad’s head is hanging out the window. He makes room for us to take a peek and I can’t believe what I see. There is a five car pileup right in front of our apartment. People are out of their cars staring up at the sky.
Staring up at the sky because it is split in two. Half the sky is night, the other half is day and in between almost like a rip in the space time continuum, is a growing fold of space. Like a page torn in half.
Mom gasps and covers her mouth as I reach into my pocket. I pull out my phone and dial Lara’s number.
Behind us is a knock. Mom rushes off to answer it. In my ear Lara’s voice mail answers. Her voice so sweet and pure. I’m not sure what I can even say so I snap the phone shut.
“Rick.”
John Crane’s voice jars me and I turn around. He’s still in his janitor uniform and his face holds a day of scruff, but it’s his eyes that frighten me. “I can’t find Lara.”
It feels like my world is falling apart.
Based on what I see outside, maybe it is.
****
Mom puts on the kettle and John joins us in the living room, but he can’t sit still. Instead he wears a path in our old fraying carpet. “She asked me to join her for an early dinner at home. Said I should bring flowers.”
John sighs and runs a hand through his hair. I know what Lara was planning and it was simplistic. Naïve. But that’s how Lara was when she thought of her mom. I tried to tell her it wouldn’t go like she planned, but I never got through. She thought everything would be perfect. Like a dream.
And life never was.
“She had me do that sometimes, but she asked me to shave. I didn’t have time.” John sighed and leaned on the old electric piano against the wall that no longer worked. The one Mom couldn’t bear to part with even though it took up so much space, we didn’t have enough chairs for guests.
His eyes fall to me. “Was she in school? Have you seen her?”
“No.” I admit. “She wasn’t in school and I didn’t get a chance to see her. I tried…”
John’s eyes narrow. “Where?”
I throw a glance over at Dad. His expression is blank and I can’t pull anything from it on how to answer the question without telling Mom everything. The very stuff I promised I wouldn’t talk about.
My throat is dry and I swallow hard. “Rewind Agency. She wanted to see her Mom.” The unspoken then hangs in the air between us.
Spit collects in the corners of John’s mouth and he quickly wipes it away. He swears under his breath and Mom’s eyes scold him. “I know you’re worried about Lara, but this is a Christian home, John Crane.”
He apologizes with a wave of his hand. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Martha.” John sighs, his eyes gaze up at the ceiling and he puts his hands on the top of his head. “I thought she gave this up. I thought I made her understand how spending all her money going back in time was…foolish. I thought I reached her.”
John shakes his head and I wish I could go back in time. I wish I told him what Lara planned so he could stop her. Lock her in her room until she turned twenty-one.
Something.
“Me too.” It was the truth and Mom pats on my shoulder. When the kettle whistles, she bustles out of the room.
“I went to Rewind to see her.” In the corner, Dad clears his throat and I glance at him. I know a warning when I hear one. “But I couldn’t get in. They told me she went home.”
John tenses, shifting from one foot to another. “Who did you talk to?” He demands of me. I’m more afraid of him than I was of the guards. He’s a big man. Protective of Lara from everything that happened with her mom.
I shake my head. “I never got her name. Some tech. Red hair in a bun. She—.”
“Delilah.” John’s eyes narrow and there’s venom spiraled in his words. I’ve only seen him angry a few times, over stupid kid stuff, and now the look’s back.
Only worse.
“John,” Dad says and his tone is soft. I know he wants to be the voice of reason. “She’s sixteen. I’m sure she’ll turn up. Everything will turn out all right.”
“If you’ll excuse me.” John says to Mom as she returns with the tray and the kettle. “I appreciate the tea, but there’s a phone call I need to make.”
“All…all right, John.” Her voice quivers slightly and I don’t know why. What reason would Mom have to be scared of Lara’s dad? “Let us know when you find her.”
John turns and rushes from the apartment and I charge after him. “Mr. Crane, wait!” I catch up with him at the stairwell just as he pulls the door open. “There was something waiting for Lara at your place. I was going to give it to her when I saw her again.”
“What is it?” John demands and with how he holds his hand out, he exp
ects me to hand it right over.
I pull the envelope out of my pocket. I flip it over to show him the seal on the back and he rips it from my hand. Crumbles it and shoves it in his pocket. “This is trash.” His face flushes crimson and I have to wonder why the envelope makes him so angry.
“Maybe—.”
“No.” He barks out at me as he enters the stairwell. “If you hear from her, you call me. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He disappears down the stairs and there’s nothing I can do but return to my apartment. I hope he can find her and bring her home. If she left the Rewind Agency, where in the hell did she go?
Mom and Dad stare out the window. “It’s gone now,” Dad says. “Whatever happened in the sky, its back to normal now.”
“Maybe it was a solar flare.” Mom suggests even though I don’t think it’s possible. “Maybe we just thought we saw something funny.”
Dad nearly laughs, but it gets caught in his throat. “That makes more sense than what we saw. The sky ripping open like a damn zipper in space? Well, whoever heard of anything crazier?”
Chapter Three: John
Scrubbing toilets, washing floors.
A decade of shit jobs to keep a roof over my head. Lara’s head. I’d give anything for that kid, to raise her right and let her be safe, but now she isn’t safe. She’s missing. She’s damn missing and I am beside myself.
The police? They’re little help. Tell me if she doesn’t come back from a joy ride with her friends by morning to call back and they’ll take an official report. A sixteen year old girl lost in the city of Boston for over twelve hours and nobody seems to care.
All anyone can think about is the damn sky, rumbles coming from underground and car accidents all over the city.
I sit on hold for the longest time. My fingers rub my temples as a headache is on the verge of ripping me apart. When things go bad, I long for Miranda to be there, my dead wife. It’d be so much easier to have some help. A partner. Being a single dad was never in my plan. God knew Miranda wasn’t perfect, but damn I missed her at night.
Ten years later and I longed for her warm body against mine.
An adulterer. A betrayer. My one wish was that we had a chance to move past it. The night I found out, the pain that welled in my chest was still so real. So fresh. I remembered it like it was yesterday.
****
“You said he was just your boss. You said the dinners meant nothing. Now you’re saying you slept with him? Repeatedly?” My fist clenches and I bang it down on our dresser, the one we bought after we were first married right after high school.
A couple of star crossed lovers.
Miranda’s eyes widen and tears flood them. She covers her face with her hands and begs me to be quiet. “Lara will hear, please! She’s sleeping in the next room. You know these walls—.”
“Are thin?” My eyes narrow. “You blame that on me too, don’t you? That I can’t provide for you? For Lara?”
“I never said that. Never.” Miranda reaches for my arm and I jerk it out of reach. “Please, just let me finish. Just listen to me. Please.”
“Listen to you what? Give me a play by play? No, thanks.” I go to the closet and riffle through the hangers, looking for—hell, I don’t know what I want. A jacket? A shirt? A black hole to open up and swallow me so I don’t have to face her.
Face this.
Marriage isn’t perfect, but I thought we were forever. Thought we were happy even though money was tight after paying off Miranda’s student loans.
“I love you, John.” She says it so simply, so sincerely, part of me wants to rip her face off.
I tear a jacket from the hanger and pull it on. Adjusting the collar and zipping it up, I turn, but I can’t look at her. “I’ll be back in the morning. Just tell Lara I had to go to work early or something. Make it up. I guess you’re good at making up excuses, huh?”
“I broke it off with him.”
I look up and see that it’s true. Miranda is biting her lip and she twists on her arches. I haven’t seen her honest, this vulnerable in a long time. All this time she was keeping a secret and I knew. Deep down, I knew, but I let myself believe her lies, but now if she was opening up to me—
This time when she reaches for me, I let her touch me and my skin tingles at her gentle strokes. “I want to be with you.” Her voice gushes. “With Lara. I know I’ve been distant. Working too any hours. I want to put back the pieces. Me and you. Lara.”
I shake my head. “You’re still working there. Seeing him.”
Miranda’s eyes are soft. “I already left my resignation letter with Patricia. We can go anywhere you want. Do anything; just let me make this right, please.”
My heart cracks and my resolve weakens. My eye twitches and I can’t keep the tremor out of my voice. “You’d do that for me? For Lara?”
“For us.” Miranda whispers and our hands intertwine. “A life without you isn’t one I want, John. Let me make it up to you. Let me show you.”
On instinct and without thinking, I pull her close. Hungrily, I kiss her. I need to feel it, see if it’s real. See if I can trust the things she’s saying. Miranda grips me, pulling me in and won’t let me go as her body clamps against mine.
“John,” she whispers and I see the tears running down her cheeks.
I stroke them away and exhale against her cheek. “It doesn’t matter.” My resolve is strong. “Whatever it is you want to say, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is us.”
“You’ll stay?” Miranda asks and her lip quivers.
I nod that I will. She pulls me in and we embrace. I don’t think I could squeeze her harder. I don’t know how long I held her while she cried against me, my face buried in her curly hair. Taking in her scent, I knew in the end we’d be okay.
I didn’t know that less than a week later our plans to leave Boston would be in full swing.
Or that she’d be dead.
****
When a voice finally comes through on the other end of the line, it jars me from my memory. I wipe tears from my face and straighten up. “Yeah, I’m looking for Delilah. I need to talk to her about my daughter Lara.” I clear my throat as I say her name. “Lara Crane.”
“I know she’s probably getting ready to head home, but she was my wife’s assistant once. If you could do me a solid, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Your wife was Miranda Crane?” The guy on the line asks.
“Yeah.” I say dryly and he sighs. “You knew her?”
“Checked her in every morning when she came in with her coffee. Just…hold on, Sir.”
I mumble a thank you and then I shift over to some hold music. When Delilah answers, I jump. “I didn’t think you’d take my call.”
She sighs. “Of course I would, John. It’s been a long time. What’s this about?”
“Lara went to the Rewind Agency today. I want to know when she left. When you last saw her.”
“Ohh?” her voice is sing song and it irritates me.
“Rick told me he saw you. You said everything was fine. So don’t play games with me and just tell me when she left.”
“Did he also tell you he broke in past security? Pushed a receptionist so bad she needed first aid?”
I suck in my breath. “That doesn’t sound anything like Rick.” He was rough around the edges, sure, but he was a good kid.
“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think. Maybe you should just wait until morning for Lara to come home.”
“You sound like the damn police.” I rub my face hard. Instead of helping, she’s making matters worse. “I just want a straight answer, or—.”
“Or what, John?” her voice strains like she is dealing with a child. “You going to come in here waving a gun again?”
Again. Her words hit me and I hang up the phone without saying anything else. I don’t know what I can say or do to make that right. What I did. What they let slide because I was a grieving
husband. A widower struggling to make ends meet.
But it had been a long time since I thought about that day.
Chapter Four: Ten Years ago
“You can’t just go in there!”
I shook the security guard from my body and slam into the office. I locked the door and bring down the blinds.
“What’s going on?”
I turn around and Jax Montgomery’s eyes widen at the sight of me. I know I look a mess. I haven’t shaved. I am barely sleeping. My wife is dead and it’s his fault. I reach inside the lining of my jacket and pull out a gun I bought off the street.
I aim it at his cotton ball head. He has the perfect hair. The perfect suit. It’s like Miranda’s death hasn’t affected him at all. It must makes me angrier. So angry I can barely see straight. This is the sonofabitch Miranda nearly threw our life away for and he couldn’t even look sad?
Couldn’t grieve a little bit?
Jax raises his arms and leans back in his chair. “John, let’s talk about this. This isn’t what you want.”
I grit my teeth. “Like hell it isn’t! My wife is dead and you took her from me. All these long months, working with her. But you were sleeping with her. My wife. The mother of my daughter. You stole her from me and now she’s dead. And instead of happy memories from this year, I have what? What!”
“You have a,” his voice shakes, “daughter. There’s Lara to think about. She’s just a kid.”
“A kid who can’t sleep. A kid who has nightmares all the time about losing her mother. She wants nothing more than to see her again and how am I supposed to make her feel better? How!”
“She chose you, John. What more can I say? It was over.”
“Liar!” I hiss. I reach into my pocket and pull out Miranda’s cell phone. I toss it onto his desk. “The case is cracked but you can make out who she was calling when she stepped into that alley. Want to see whose number it is on that thing dozens of times in the last week?”