Flirt (Chasing Hope Book 1)

by Lavinia Leigh

  Millie didn’t even turn around.

  “Dammit!” Emmeline cursed. She hastily climbed down the ladder, knocking the paint can as she did. It fell to the floor with a bang, spilling wet paint everywhere.

  “Dammit!” she said again, annoyed for not putting the drop cloth down. She grabbed it, smearing light pink paint into the original dark wood flooring. She ran to the door, yelling, “Millie, get back here!” and then ran to the sink, where she filled a dirty plastic cup with water and grabbed a few tea towels that were laying on the counter. She poured the water on the smeared paint.

  “Millie! Come back here!” Emmeline didn’t know what to do. If the paint dried on the floor, she was going to have a heck of a time to get it off. She smears the towels around again and then gave up.

  God, she was making an actual mess of everything.

  She ran out the door to look for Millie. She looked down both ends of the street, but couldn’t see her daughter. It had only been a moment. How could she have disappeared so fast? It wasn’t like Millie to be so openly defiant. Emmeline was losing her mind, that was all there was to it! A list of possible places her daughter could have run to flipped through her mind. She dismissed each one. Millie was still getting used to the town; she could be anywhere. She didn’t have any favourite spots to go yet, let alone hiding places.

  Where is she?

  This wasn’t Millie’s fault. It was stupid, really. Frankly, fighting with your kid for any reason is stupid. Emmeline had always prided herself on being a soft place for Millie to fall when she had a bad day, when bullies picked on her, or when she tried something and failed. Today, she was more of a hard, prickly place.

  Millie is a good kid, she rationalized. She’ll be back. Emmeline breathed heavily, trying to regain her confidence. She ran back inside, put her shoes on, and left the front door swinging behind her as she went out.

  Parked cars lined the street; she glanced between a few in case Millie had slipped between them. There was no sign of her. She ran down the hill to look down the street that intersected the one she was on. Minutes were slipping away.

  The stores—would Millie go into the store? It was unlikely. She didn’t have any money, not even enough to buy an ice cream cone. Emmeline followed the street that passed the park with the Bandshell in it. There were people setting up inside, getting ready for a free music concert as they did every Thursday evening in the summer. She scanned the park. Toddlers ran wildly along the playground equipment, and yelps of excitement filled the air.

  No Millie.

  Emmeline clenched her fists, walking in a straight line. Her steps were measured, keeping herself from going in a full-out run and missing Millie along the way. She followed the cobblestone path along the river, past the iron bridge, toward the beach. Emmeline kept meaning to take Millie there, but hadn’t got around to it. Millie had asked over and over. She could be there. Emmeline had to check.

  As she walked, a stone that weighed a thousand pounds sat firmly in her gut. This was the first time in Millie’s entire life that Emmeline didn’t know exactly where she was. She tried to steady her breathing. Nothing to panic about, she said with each step. Nothing to panic about. It became rhythmic, like a train chugging its way through her head, Nothing to panic about, nothing to panic about. She said it so many times that it almost became one word.

  The beach was empty, with the exception of one man throwing a stick into the water so his Labrador could run after it, splashing in the small waves. She followed the curve of the beach to where it opened up again, finding only a few birds walking on the wet sand, leaving their delicate footprints behind.

  Emmeline cursed under her breath.

  She regretted leaving the house. Millie could be back by now, and she wasn’t there. They could have already made up and put the kettle on for a cup of mint tea, or better yet, a vat of coffee and a Tylenol. She regretted letting her leave in the first place.

  She turned on a dime and headed back double time. The song in her head changed its chant to She is fine, she is fine, she is fine.

  Goodness, she thought, the word almost escaping her lips, is this what I put my parents through? She made a mental note not to mention this incident to her mom when she came around, but perhaps she might accept the dinner invitation she had been avoiding.

  There was still no sight of Millie as Emmeline entered the apartment.

  Emmeline was frantic. It was all too overwhelming. Too much work, too hard. She wiped her eyes. It would do no good for Millie to see her like this when she came home.

  If she came home.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Emmeline checked her watch, trying to calculate how long Millie had been missing, and cursed herself for not checking the time when her kid first walked out the door. How long did it take to walk down to the beach? Five minutes? Ten?

  How did she even get in this situation?

  Where would Millie go?

  Should she run out again and look for her? Stay still and trust Millie would come home? Call the police?

  “What do I do?” she shouted in frustration. At best guess it had been no more than twenty minutes. The only twenty minutes of Millie’s life that she couldn’t account for.

  What have I done? I’ve totally messed my kid up.

  I need help.

  She dialed Callum’s number, fumbling over the keypad. Her hands were shaking. She let it ring through. The answer at the other end of the phone said, “The number you are trying to reach is not in service. Please hang up and try your call again.”

  “Crap! I dialed the wrong number. I can’t do this.”

  She ran to the front door again and stepped out onto the street, looking both ways to see if she could see her. There were happy people milling around, eating ice cream. How could they be happy? How could they stomach eating? Her kid was missing.

  She sat down on the front step and tried to control her hands while she dialed Callum’s number again. No answer. She dialed the number at the shop.

  “Hello, this is…” Callum’s voice said through the phone.

  “Come, Millie. She plan away. She ran away.” Even Emmeline knew her words weren’t making any sense.

  “Stop. You need to slow down.”

  “It’s Millie, she was mad. We had a fight, a stupid fight, and she just left. My girl. We’ve never fought. She’s never run away, and she’s gone.” Her halted words came through streaming tears.

  “She’s…gone…?” he said slowly. “Where did she go?”

  “If I knew, I’d go and get her!” she answered sharply. Fury was working its way through her body. This wasn’t funny anymore. Millie needed to march back home right this instant.

  “Okay, I got it. I’m coming.”

  A minute later Emmeline saw Callum’s large frame running down the street. She ran up to greet him. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest, but only for a moment. She looked up and could see the concern in his eyes. It made the situation all the more real.

  “You stay at the bakery,” he said. “In case she comes back. I’m going to look for her.”

  “I can’t just stay put.”

  “Please. Just wait. She couldn’t have gone far.”

  Callum escaped her arms and walked briskly down the street, frantically looking in every direction. Emmeline returned to the front step. Her eyes were red, and she felt like every ounce of her body was raw.

  Millie, please come home, she willed, sending a message out to the universe. She looked at each of the stores. Could she be in one of them? There was an art store, a framing store, a chiropractor’s office. None of those seemed like they would be interesting to Millie at all. There was the river that ran behind the bakery, but if she went down there, Emmeline would have seen her as she walked to the beach.

  People were still walking along the street. How could they? She needed more help. She impulsively called her parents.

  Her mom answered. “Please come.” Emmeline b
roke down again. “Millie, she ran away.”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end. “Emmeline, are you at the bakery?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Your father and I are coming.”

  Emmeline hung up the phone. Her parents were coming. It felt good. She was relieved for a moment. She needed as many people as she could get out looking for her daughter. Next she dialed Ginny, and told her the same thing. Ginny was there in five minutes with a group of men in suits and ties, who Emmeline assumed were the other lawyers at her firm. Emmeline recognized Ginny’s father running behind the pack to catch up.

  “Em, do you want me to organize an official search party?” asked Ginny, a little out of breath.

  “No, let me.” This was her kid, she wanted to do it. Emmeline took a deep breath. Some of the people wandering the streets were getting curious and starting to look to see what was going on. “Um, hello. I’m new here. Well, not exactly new. I’m Emmeline,” she said loudly. A few other people stepped closer. “My daughter Millie is eight. She’s a good kid. A very good kid, but she isn’t handling moving here very well. She doesn’t do well with change.” She could see her parents step out of their car where they parked it across the street. “And she’s never run away before. In fact, I’ve never had any problems with her. But, today she ran away.” She pushed her lips tightly together and breathed heavily. She needed to stay strong. “She doesn’t know her way around town, and she’s been gone for about twenty-five minutes. Please, if you could help me. Just bring her home.”

  It was embarrassing, humiliating, and humbling watching people scatter through the streets, telling others and looking for her baby.

  Her mom crossed the street. She didn’t say anything, she just hugged Emmeline tightly.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said simply. “We’re going to find her.”

  Emmeline collapsed on the step. Her mother sat beside her as her father disappeared down the street.

  “She’s going to be okay. She’s strong like you,” Amy said.

  “Strong. That’s the last thing I feel like right now.”

  “But you are. Stronger than me. Stronger than most. You’ll get through this. Millie is like you. She’ll be fine.”

  “But you don’t know that. What if she’s been taken, or what if she gets hit by a car? What if she falls down and hurts herself? No one will be there to help her.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. Look around. Everyone is looking for her. That’s what we do.”

  “It’s just so hard.”

  “Listen, I know a thing or two about trying to raise a strong-willed kid. Sometimes you don’t get things right. I know I haven’t. I’ve messed up over and over again. But you love your daughter, and she loves you. When she’s ready, she’ll come to you.”

  Emmeline got the feeling that Amy was talking about more than just Millie. Her mother held out her hand, and Emmeline took it. She laid her head down on her mother’s shoulder, and Amy laid her head on Emmeline’s.

  A familiar figure walked down the street toward them. At first Emmeline couldn’t place who it was. A softness lined the elderly woman’s eyes.

  “Emmeline, is that you?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Smyth?” She had been the secretary at Emmeline’s high school. She remembered how supportive that she had always been.

  “She’s at the library. I just spoke with her.”

  Emmeline’s heart pounded out of her chest. “What?”

  “I just left her, and the library staff is watching over her. I wanted to come right away and tell you.”

  A small sob escaped Emmeline’s lips.

  “She’s fine. I know, it’s okay, let it out. Raising kids is tough. I raised four of my own, and each one of them did something silly like this at one point or another. You get those first painful calluses when they’re small with stunts like this, and they hurt for sure. She just needed some space. She is safe.”

  “Ha!” said Emmeline, laughing out loud. Only her kid would run away to the library of all places. “Thank you,” she said then.

  “She’s coming back. I just advise you not to be too hard on her, she feels bad enough as it is.”

  Mrs. Smyth reached out and hugged Emmeline. It felt good.

  “See, what did I tell you?” said Amy.

  Mrs. Smyth gave her directions, and Emmeline left her mother, who volunteered to tell everyone that Millie had been found, and walked the two minutes down the street to the library. No wonder Millie had disappeared so fast—she hadn’t gone far.

  As she opened the door to the library, the woman behind the returns counter whispered, “She’s upstairs.” Emmeline assumed the frazzled look on her face was a dead giveaway that she was the missing child’s mother. She walked carefully up the stairs, looking everywhere. As her foot reached the top step, another librarian pointed over to the corner. Emmeline mouthed “Thank you” and followed her directions. Through the open shelves of books, she could see Millie. She looked so small, curled up on the window seat. Sometimes when Emmeline looked at her she seemed so much older than eight. She had turned out to be so capable. Other times she was just a baby.

  “Millie,” Emmeline called out. She was trying not to sound too angry, even though part of her was. Relieved and angry. But they needed to deal with this and shouting got them into this mess in the first place.

  “Mom?” Her little head looked up, her eyes glistening.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Millie

  Millie knew she was wrong. She knew it the second she had ignored her mother’s second command to come back, but she was mad and she couldn’t bring herself to listen. Her legs moved faster in defiance, and her neck stubbornly refused to turn around and look. She knew any second now, her mom would catch up with her. She needed a place to go, to think.

  The problem with a new town was that she didn’t know of any places to go. She ran past the library, then stopped and went back a few feet. Maybe she could hide amongst the stacks of books. Maybe her mom wouldn’t find her for a few minutes. She stormed in the front door. The building had two levels. The bottom level was all the baby books, and ones for her age. She knew that those would be the first place her mom would look if she thought to come inside. So she headed for the stairs. She passed the man sitting at the help desk at the top, and smiled, hoping he wouldn’t question her being there—she wasn’t sure how many kids came upstairs. Impulsively she decided to go to the right. There were stacks of books on shelves, and large windows with window seats lined with comfy cushions. Millie found one that was hidden a bit and sat down. She leaned against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest. She stared out the window and willed herself not to cry. She never knew she could be so brave, but it didn’t feel good.

  She picked up one of the books that someone had left on the window seat, trying to look like she belonged. She must not have, because an old lady with tight, short curls approached her and looked at her strangely. It made Millie uncomfortable, the way she looked at her. Maybe she was some old lady psycho killer. Millie tried to read the book in front of her intently.

  “Excuse me,” the lady said. Millie pulled her knees in tighter to her chest.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. It’s just that I accidentally left the book I was going to borrow today on the window seat.”

  Millie peered up from the book, eyeing her suspiciously.

  “That is,” the lady continued, “if you’re really into the Mannerist style coming from the High Renaissance as influenced by Rosso Fiorentino, by all means, I’ll leave it to you and sign it out another day.”

  She was caught. Millie looked down at the book for the first time and realized that there was no way she’d be able to convince anyone she was reading it. “All yours,” she said.

  “I haven’t seen you here before,” the lady said.

  “We just moved here,” she said. She noticed the kindness in the lady’s eyes and it put her at ease. She was dying
to talk to someone; she couldn’t help the words that came out next. “You know, I’m actually from this town,” Millie said, nervous, confessing her secret and not knowing if she should, or if it even mattered.

  “I figured as much,” the woman said, smiling. She sat down at the other side of the window seat and folded the book on her lap.

  “How did you know?”

  “You can’t live in this town as long as I have and not know a thing or two. I was born in a house just north of here, and spent a lot of time with the little ones. I was a school secretary. I know the kids from this town, and in fact, I know their kids and the little ones that have come after that.”

  There was something about this woman that made her feel warm and safe, like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer.

  “You look like him, you know,” the lady said. “It’s around the mouth, your face shape—of course, that mole on your cheek is just like your mom’s.”

  “I’ve heard that before. Did you know my dad?”

  “I can do better than that. I remember when you were born. I called the hospital to tell them they were coming.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s true. Your mom was in the middle of class when you decided that you wanted to make your appearance. I think everyone was pretty surprised. Tell me, do you still like to do things in your own time?”

  Millie nodded slowly. She wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but she had heard people say things like that too in the past. “What else happened?”

  “Then your dad took your mom to the hospital and you came.”

  Millie smiled. “Did everyone know my dad?”

  “Pretty much. He was really well known in this town. So are your grandparents.”

  “I don’t know them.”

  “Things haven’t been easy, have they?”

  “They were, and then we came here. I had to leave my grammy. I miss her, and everything is different here.”

  “I’m sorry, but look at you, all grown up.”