by Rea Frey
* * *
The next morning, over cereal and juice, it was as if Ryan knew what I was thinking.
“So I have a proposition for you.”
He poured each of the kids more cereal.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I wrapped my hands around my mug of coffee, which was deliciously strong.
“Why don’t you guys stay a little longer?”
“We stayed last night.”
“I know, but I mean like a proper stay.”
Emma dropped her spoon and looked at me. “Yes. Let’s stay! Yay!”
I sighed. “Emma, we talked about this. We have more terrain—more places to see.”
“I know, but we can show you some adventures, can’t we, Charlie? We can go to Wisconsin or Indiana. There’s extremely flat terrain there.”
“I’m from Indiana, remember?”
“See? There you go. It’s a homecoming.”
“I am definitely not going back there.” My voice was light, but my thoughts were heavy. It would be so easy to hole up here for a while, playing house, letting her just be a kid. But every day we stayed was one day closer to Ryan—or the world—finding out the truth.
“When does Emma have to be home?”
I shot up straighter in my chair. “No specific time, really. But soon.”
Ryan knew there was a story there, but he didn’t ask. I waited for Emma to say something, to allude to the fact that her home was somewhere else.
Instead, Emma watched Charlie’s every movement, mimicking the way he held his adult utensil, some of the milk not making it into her mouth as she brought her own large spoon to her lips.
“So we can stay?” Emma finally asked, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.
“For a little while.”
Charlie pushed away from the table and brought his bowl to Ryan. Emma did the same. “Can we go play in my room now?”
“Sure, buddy. Watch out for her, okay? Make sure she’s okay on the steps.”
Emma looked at him. “I’m not a baby.”
He ruffled her hair. “I know that. You’re a big girl.”
She nodded, and they were off, parading through the three-flat as though they were elephants.
“Will they be okay up there?” I asked, rising to get more coffee.
He took my mug and refilled it. “You mean, besides all the drugs and guns? Sure, they should be.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.” I suddenly felt naked in my T-shirt and pajama pants. “This is good coffee. I haven’t had good coffee in forever.”
“Coffee snob?”
I took a sip. “Excuse me?”
“Are you a coffee snob? You do live on the West Coast, after all.”
“Yes, I am, proudly. I am a huge coffee snob.” I moved to the living room and sat on his couch. The backyard was sprayed with toys from their playtime yesterday. “Looks like another beautiful day. I love the weather here.”
“Come visit in winter. You’ll hate it.”
“Nah. I don’t mind the cold. Makes me think of the holidays.” I folded my legs underneath me. Once summer was over, holidays would be rolling in: Halloween, where buckets of candy would get stuck in tiny teeth and cobwebs would hang from doorways, then changing leaves, buttered, basted turkeys, twinkling multicolored lights, snow, Santa. The fantasies tore at me: carving pumpkins with Emma, cooking a Thanksgiving dinner, decorating a Christmas tree with hand-me-down ornaments, sitting in front of the fire, reading stories. It seemed so easy, so right.
“Do you have time to sit for a second?”
“Sure.” He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt, his hair messy, a slight line of stubble darkening his cheeks and jaw.
“You’d tell me if you wanted us to go, right?” I wanted to stay. My body wanted us to stay. I was pretty sure he wanted us to stay. But I wanted to be sure.
He hung his head and let out a dramatic, playful sigh. “Sarah, for the love of God. How many ways can we ask? We. Want. You. To. Stay.”
“Okay, okay. Just making sure.” I looked around. “We need to go shopping today for a few things.”
“What’s the story there? Why do you have your niece? You two could pass for twins, you know.”
In that moment, I wanted to tell him. Something told me he might understand, but then I remembered he was a real parent, and nothing could make him sympathize with me. “Her mother is … tough. Verbally. Physically. I’m taking care of her for a while.” I said nothing more. It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Whoa. That’s complicated, Sarah. I’m sorry.”
“We don’t talk about home, or her parents. It just upsets her. And frankly, it upsets me.”
“Got it. Say no more. It’s f-u-n from here on out.”
“Are you going to be spelling everything from here on out?”
“You k-n-o-w it.” He winked.
“Great.” I stretched my legs in front of me and yawned. “So, what do you normally do during a typical summer day?”
“Well, we usually do brunch and some outdoor activity, like the zoo. I know they just ate, so what do you think about going to the zoo?”
I knew Emma would love the zoo. I wondered if she’d ever been before. “We’d love to go.”
Ryan leaned forward then, so much that I could smell his laundry detergent and remnants of last night’s cologne. The front of his T-shirt brushed against mine as he brought his lips against my ear. “I hear the monkeys have gigantic balls,” he whispered, and I slapped his arm and pushed him away, laughing so hard I almost spilled my coffee.
“Let’s go tell the rug rats,” he said. My legs felt wobbly. I needed to exercise, to burn off some of this energy.
He was right behind me as we went up the stairs. I could feel the heat from his body, and I wanted to turn, to lean my chest against his and just be held. We stopped outside of Charlie’s room. He stood beside me and pressed his fingers to his lips as we both peeked around the doorframe.
“It goes like this,” Charlie was saying, showing Emma how to make the top of a castle from Legos. She watched and then fit a few pieces together and stuck them at the top.
“Now, let’s make a moat,” he said, all business.
“What’s a note?”
“Not a note, a moat. It goes around the castle, like this.”
We slipped past them and giggled, my back against the hallway wall. They are so cute, I mouthed, placing a hand over my heart.
And then Ryan was in front of me, his lips inches from mine.
“You are so cute.”
In that moment, everything flashed before me: meeting Ethan, breaking up with Ethan, drowning myself in business, taking Emma, seeing him again. I let all of that evaporate as I moaned and pulled this new man against me, gripping the back of his neck. His skin was smooth and hot under my fingers and his lips—once pressed against mine—were sure, full, and warm. I let my hands explore the muscles of his back as his fingers tugged at the fabric of my T-shirt. There was a hunger there—for both of us—as our tongues entwined and our breath caught, and he erased everything from my mind but a single, repetitive thought: This means trouble.
I pulled away, gasping, and placed a hand on his chest. “I’m … I’m so sorry, I—”
“No, no, I’m sorry. Shit.” He adjusted his glasses and raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll let the kids know we want to go soon.”
I nodded and moved back downstairs to the guest room, everything unraveling. How stupid could I be? How safe did I think I was? I closed my eyes, wanting the choices to be easy. I liked Ryan, but I couldn’t get in any deeper.
As I changed my clothes, my body pulsed from the kiss. It had been so long since I’d kissed another man. And it felt … amazing. But it had to stop before it started. I couldn’t do that to him, to me, to Charlie, to Emma. I threw a few items into my purse, and my phone vibrated. I rummaged around and extracted it. It was an alert. My fingers hovered over the email. I didn’t want to open it. I didn’t want to know. But I had to
. It was my sole responsibility to know what was happening with her case, a case that I had caused. I took a deep breath, still smelling Ryan on my fingers and in my hair. I shook away the thoughts and clicked the email. I read the first headline: Emma Grace Townsend Spotted in Nebraska Diner
“Oh God. Please no. Not again. Not now.” Nausea ripped through my body as I began to read the short article. We’d been made again in Nebraska. The waitress from the diner? So my instincts had been right in the town square. She had recognized us. I scanned the last few lines. They had the make and model of my car. The cop in Montana must have called it in.
Ryan knocked on my door.
“Come in.”
He opened it and leaned against the doorframe. “You’re not going to suddenly leave, are you?”
I tossed my phone back in my bag and kept my hands from shaking. “How’d you know? I was planning my great escape.”
“Look, Sarah.” He sat next to me on the bed, the mattress groaning under his weight. His knee brushed mine. “I know you’re going through a lot, but I promise, I have good intentions. I’m not here to complicate your life.”
“I know.” I turned to him. “Actually, do you think you could do me a favor?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “What kind of favor?”
I shoved him playfully. “Do you think you could watch Emma for a little bit? There’s just an errand I need to run before we go to the zoo.”
“Wow, I feel flattered that you trust me that much.”
I stared into his warm eyes. “I do, actually. I do trust you. I’ll be fast.” I swiped my keys and wallet and hesitated by the door. I walked back to him, cupped his face in my hands, and leaned down to kiss him again. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time. We’ll be here.”
It took everything in me to leave Emma with him, but I had no choice. Outside, I unbuckled Emma’s car seat and cleaned out all the junk, leaving it piled in a neat corner in Ryan’s detached garage. I plugged in the address to a nearby CarMax. The alert had just hit. Surely, my car wasn’t in some sort of nationwide system yet.
The thought of parting ways with my Tahoe—however trivial—made me sad. It was my first purchase when I’d sold the premiere kits in bulk from TACK, and I’d paid for the car in cash. It was in good condition, though it had seen some wear and tear in the last few months.
The trade was quick. The car more than covered what I chose, a white Ford Focus. I signed the papers and ran a sentimental hand over the hood, realizing all I’d done in this car, both good and bad. A heavy weight slipped from my shoulders. If anyone was looking for my SUV, they wouldn’t find it now.
I raced back to Ryan’s and parked a few blocks away. I’d have to explain the car to Emma, but I wasn’t ready yet.
Emma squealed when I came back in, and she wrapped her arms around my middle. “Charlie said we can go to the zoo? Can we?”
“Of course. Did you have fun while I was gone?”
“Yes! Can we go to the zoo now?”
“Let me just go wash my hands.”
Ryan wrangled the kids as I went to the guest room and folded the paperwork into my bag. Her excitement was contagious. I brushed my teeth and reapplied my lipstick in the mirror. It was settled: I would give Emma today and tonight—one more day of playing house. And then we’d be back on the road, in a car no one was looking for, headed somewhere else, alone.
* * *
The zoo was thick with Chicagoans. They weaved along the trails and squished noses to smudged display windows to look at all the wildlife pacing in dirty, tired circles. I’d never much liked zoos—one look at the depressed animals’ faces did me in—but they seemed to exhilarate children, and Emma was no exception. She hopped from monkey to tiger to giraffe to elephant. She and Charlie had made fast friends, and he checked that she was constantly beside him.
I struggled to smile, clap, and ooh and aah with them, but I couldn’t think of anything other than what was ahead of us, of what leaving here would mean. The truth was getting closer—I could feel it, something was going to slip—and I couldn’t get caught in the crossfire. Even here, at this zoo, with Ryan and Charlie, I was exposing her on an entirely new level. Maybe Charlie would talk about “his new friend Emma” at school, which could get back to a concerned parent who kept their eyes out for nationwide AMBER Alerts. It could happen just like that—I knew it could. It was time to end this once and for all.
I didn’t know how to get out of this current situation, how to explain our sudden departure to Ryan and Charlie, and especially to Emma. Finally, she was warming up to a real life with a new friend in a city that held so many fond memories.
Ryan adjusted his glasses and bumped shoulders with mine. “Who died?”
I was too close to Ryan already; he could read me—though my mood must have been somewhat transparent—and I found myself wanting to kiss him again. It was preposterous. I’d spent so many years of my life hyper-focused on the wrong man. And now, the first honest, nice guy I’d met in ages came with a built-in family, and I wasn’t—couldn’t—be available.
“Ryan, I—I have to tell you something.”
“Uh-oh.”
“No, it’s not about you, or what happened earlier.” I linked my arm through his and cast a quick look toward the children. They were face-to-face with a majestic tiger, only a thin sheet of glass protecting them from getting mauled. “I just got word that my sister is going to press charges if I don’t bring Emma home. She wants her at home, but I’m scared to take her back. I have no real grounds for obtaining custody. It would be a legal battle. One I wouldn’t win.”
He scratched his neck in that same thoughtful way Ethan used to do. “Can you get a lawyer?”
I shook my head. “Again, it would be a legal nightmare. I need to do the right thing here.”
“Isn’t this the right thing?” He used his free arm to motion to the kids. “Anyone can see how happy and loved she is, Sarah. I can’t see her having a better upbringing than with you.”
His words, though based on only partial truths, validated something in me. “Thank you.”
We stepped closer to the children. “So you have to go?”
I nodded. “We do.”
“And there’s nothing I can do to help you stay? Or help you with your situation?”
I unhooked my arm from his and readjusted Emma’s ball cap. “We’d love to stay, we would. You have no idea how much.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. “Well, we have really great timing, I think. Don’t you?”
I laughed. “Thank you for taking us in and being so understanding. I hope—well, I don’t know what I hope.”
He turned to me. “No, just hope. Hope’s a good thing. There’s not enough of it these days, right?”
I wanted to kiss him goodbye, but I didn’t, so instead I squeezed his hand and let it go, squatting beside Emma and saying hi to the tiger.
“Look, look at this tiger, Sarah! He’s so close! Charlie and I are pretending to pet him!”
The exuberance was infectious—both of them were adorable—and I felt like I was doing such a shitty thing taking her away from here.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, once, twice. I moved back, motioning to Ryan to watch the kids while I checked my phone. It was another alert about the Montana spotting. I thought of the man I’d made the trade with at CarMax, how busy they’d been, how quick the exchange. Even if a report had been filed, it obviously hadn’t made it to Chicago yet. The cop who pulled us over flashed through my mind again. He had to know about my car by now. And I’d told him exactly where we were headed. Yet another mistake. Though I knew the car was now safely out of the picture, we weren’t. If my car was investigated, the new car would soon follow. They’d know exactly where to find me.
But that wasn’t what stopped me. I scrolled down a little further and saw a second article: New Prime Suspect in Longview Missing Girl Case
I read it in shock, a
million emotions without names crashing against my chest. I glanced at the kids, at Ryan, and back at my phone, rereading the words and trying to make sense of them.
No matter what I felt or what I wanted, this article changed everything. We had to get out of here. Now.
We had to go.
amy
after
The leads died. All the sightings vanished into nothing—the woman in Montana, the sighting in Nebraska, the SUV—and they were left just as they started: searching.
“But this woman has to have her, Amy. The one she’s been spotted with? It’s the only logical explanation. Where else would she be?”
“I have no idea.”
“I know, but don’t you think it’s all just … suspicious? That the only leads we had just died? That everything just vanished?”
“Why are you whispering?” She handed Richard a glass from the dishwasher. “I’m sure they are doing what they can. They can’t be everywhere at once.”
“I know, but this woman. It seems like she’s nice, right?”
“What does being nice have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s trying to help her.”
“Help her what?”
“Live? Bring her back?”
“Live? Like keep her? What is wrong with you?”
He shrugged. “I mean, it’s better than some scary, awful, mean person with our daughter, isn’t it? No one has reported an abusive, horrible person with our daughter. That has to count for something.”
“It’s not our daughter.”
“What are you talking about?”
Amy stopped unloading and squeezed her hips with her hands. “Richard, don’t you think if Emma was out there, really out there, that they could actually bring her back again? What would she be doing in Montana? Or Nebraska, for that matter? There are a million little girls with gray eyes and mothers. It’s not her. I know it’s not.”
“What do you mean?” Richard gripped a glass to his chest. “You can’t possibly know it’s not her.”
Amy snatched a plate and shoved it in the cabinet. “I know. Mothers always know.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”