Ryan parked behind it, headed for the door, but stopped when he spotted the van coming up the street. Carly leapt out and ran to him. He put his arm around her waist, and they hurried into the house together. Without a faith of his own, maybe he could borrow hers.
Carly hurried to Denise. While the women exchanged a desperate hug, Ryan focused on the policewoman. “What’s happening now?”
“We’ve alerted our officers to keep an eye out for her. There’s no sign of abduction, which is a plus.”
“So no Amber alert?”
“No.” She paused. “At least not yet.”
Not until they find her backpack in an abandoned car, or a witness comes forward, or—no! Blocking the awful pictures by an act of sheer will, he slid into an icy pool of surrealistic calm, where time slowed to a crawl and voices, even his own, were off-key and distorted. “My sons and Carly’s father are on their way. We’ll search the neighborhood.”
“Good,” she answered. “You know Penny best.”
Ryan turned to Denise. When he looked into her bloodshot eyes, he knew exactly how she felt. “Do you know what Penny’s wearing?”
“Jeans, a purple T-shirt, pink sneakers.” Her voice cracked. “She took her backpack and some of her animals.”
Kyle and Eric walked through the open door. Paul followed a second later. After hurried introductions, Ryan took control of the search. “We need to think like Penny.”
“She likes the beach,” Eric suggested.
Ryan nodded. The south end of Dockweiler State Beach was about a half mile from Denise’s place, and the route was marked with blue signs. “I’ll start there.” He turned to Paul. “El Segundo is laid out in a grid, with a business district in the middle. Take Eric and drive up and down the streets.”
Next he faced Denise. “Is there a park nearby? Someplace with swings?”
“There’s a playground about a mile from here.” She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled white tissue. “We’ve been there a few times. There’s also the Plunge.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“The pool in the rec center. I didn’t take her, but she saw posters at the library and wanted to go.”
Carly signaled him with a lift of her hand. “I’ll check out the park and the Plunge. If I don’t find her, I’ll help you search the beach.”
Ryan accepted the offer with a nod, then turned to Kyle. “Knock on neighbors’ doors. Maybe someone saw her.”
“Got it,” he replied.
He swung his gaze back to Denise. “I don’t want to miss something obvious. What happened after I spoke with her on the phone?”
She pressed her fingers tight against her mouth, then slid them to her burning cheeks. “I can’t believe what I did. I-I’m so sorry—”
“What happened?” he repeated.
“I told her nannies came and went. That sometimes they didn’t come back.” A sob tore from her throat. “I’m so sorry.”
Ryan gritted his teeth against a rush of anger, but the fury dissolved in a flood of compassion for this flawed, misguided woman who loved Penny as much as he did. He had no right to condemn or berate her. Wanting to help her, he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You made a mistake, Denise. We’ve all been there.”
She shook her head. “I should have given you the picture of Jenna. I should have—”
Carly dropped down onto the couch. “Denise, stop.”
“But—”
“You didn’t mean for this to happen.” She slid to the floor, landed on her knees, and grasped both of Denise’s bone-white hands. “I’ve been where you are right now. It happened in Lexington. I made a mistake, and a girl with FASD ran away. I thought I’d never get over it. But I did.”
“How?” Denise broke down again. “How did you do it?”
“I had to forgive myself,” Carly murmured. “I’m at peace now, but it took a long time and someone being honest with me.”
Ryan thought she meant her father, but she turned to him. Stepping forward, he offered his hand with the intention of helping her to her feet. She grasped his cold fingers in her warm ones, held his gaze as she stood, then bent and kissed his knuckles. It was a benediction of sorts, an acknowledgement of the forgiveness they all needed.
He longed to savor the moment, but each passing second put Penny in greater danger. After giving her hand a squeeze, he focused on the task at hand. “Kyle and Paul, give your phone numbers to Denise. She’ll stay here and coordinate communication.”
Leaving them behind, Ryan strode to the Impala, cranked the ignition, and made a beeline for Grand Avenue, the street that led to the beach. Clogged with morning traffic, the two-lane road curved past houses and small apartment buildings. With traffic moving at a crawl, he peered into overgrown yards and along the sidewalk, but there was no sign of a little girl with a purple backpack.
Vehicles inched forward, then picked up speed. The residential area faded to brown hills surrounding an industrial power plant with red-and-white smokestacks. They were the kind of thing that would attract Penny’s attention, and he wondered if she’d wandered into the brush. Uncertainty plagued him, but when he rounded a curve and saw the ocean, his gut told him to keep going.
He pressed the accelerator with the hope of flying through the green light, but it turned yellow, then bright red. Stifling an oath, he stomped the brake and skidded to a stop. While cross traffic sped by, he peered up and down the highway, dreading what he might see—an ambulance with flashing lights, police cars, even a coroner’s van. Finally the light turned green. He hit the gas, shot across the intersection, and took the access road to an empty parking lot. After steering to the sandy edge, he cut the engine.
The ocean stretched in front of him, limited only by the horizon and a jetty made of gray boulders that marked the end of a storm drain. Pulse pounding, he climbed out of the Impala and slammed the door. A wave crashed and rolled up the shore, faded to foam and vanished, its power and noise forgotten. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted Penny’s name at the top of his lungs.
Helpless and hating it, he spotted an old van on the southern edge of the lot, ran to it, and pounded on the door. When no one answered, his mind twisted into a picture of Penny inside it, bound and gagged, abused, dying or dead. Frantic, he searched for a rock big enough to smash the window. He found one on the edge of the beach, lifted it, but stopped when he spotted a couple of teenagers riding the waves. With no other vehicles in sight, the van had to belong to them.
The ice in his veins thawed into steam. Choking back bile, he crossed the bike path and stepped onto the shifting sand. A faded turquoise lifeguard station, empty except for an orange float on the railing, sat useless and blind fifty feet from the waves. A handful of sailboats dotted the water, and the silhouette of an oil tanker stood out against the murky sky.
Sick with dread, Ryan tried to think like Penny. She associated boats with going home. If she had approached the water, even a small wave could have knocked her down and swept her away. Stumbling in the sand, he ran toward the waves, shouting her name as he searched the shore for a sign of her, footprints, anything except her small, cold body washed up on the beach. Out of breath with his heart thundering in his ears, he stared at the water and sky.
There was nothing.
No sign of Penny.
Nothing except a vastness he couldn’t fathom. Carly would have seen God the Creator. Ryan wished he could see the loving, almighty, all-powerful hand of God, because he desperately needed to find his own little girl. But when he looked out to the horizon, first to Catalina Island, then to the faintest shadow of Anacapa in the north, he saw nothing but a disintegrating rock . . . a rock like the one in his chest.
Which way would she go? Had she even come this far? A gull swooped past him and veered to the south. Hoping it was a harbinger, he ran in the same direction as the bird, calling Penny’s name until he decided she couldn’t possibly have gone so far. Hoarse from shouting, he pivoted and ran tow
ard the distant jetty cutting into the water.
Dizzy and out of breath, he ground to a halt thirty feet from the rocks and collapsed to his hands and knees. Grains of sand scraped through his pants and clung to his palms. He tried to think logically, but all he could do was listen to the waves, a reminder of his helplessness, his insignificance, the fragility of his own humanity. He couldn’t help his daughter, couldn’t see her or hear her. He was as helpless as a starving babe left to cry out for its mother.
A choice as plain as black and white flashed into his mind. He could believe in his own abilities and surrender to a fatalistic view of life, death, and everything in between, or he could cry out for help like that hungry baby. Just like that baby needed to willingly suckle its mother’s breast, Ryan needed to surrender to the God he didn’t understand.
A groan crawled out of his throat. Fists clenched around handfuls of sand, he raised his face to the sky and shouted, “Where is she?”
He sucked in a lungful of air, blew it out, and waited. But nothing happened . . . except he felt a wave of something so powerful, so strong, it made the ocean seem small. That feeling was love . . . for his family, for Penny, and for Carly, who loved him just as he was and yet remained true to herself and to her God. He felt her presence in an abstract sort of way. He couldn’t see her, touch her, hold her. But she lived in him. Love. He couldn’t see it or explain it, but it swelled in his chest like the waves rising and crashing up the beach.
Love was real.
And God was love. Ryan had read those words somewhere in his mother’s Bible, and they were real to him now because of his love for Carly, his sons, and for Penny, with all her imperfections. Ryan hated himself for her FASD, hated how he had hurt people he loved, but with his life shattered, he knew that love was powerful, forgiving, and full of grace. Like the water eroding Anacapa Island, love changed his heart of stone to a heart of tender flesh.
Love. Ryan couldn’t get his arms around a lot of things in the Bible, but this one word burned in him, leveled him. Still on his knees, he stared at the horizon.
“I give up,” he said to God and the man named Jesus. “I don’t understand, and I’m full of doubt and anger. But you’re all I have left. Protect my daughter. Bring her home.”
Even as Ryan prayed those words, he knew a hard truth. If God was God now, He’d be God no matter what happened to Penny. Ryan wasn’t making a deal with the Almighty or asking for a sign. He was waving the white flag of surrender with both hands. The war was over.
Drained of all emotion, he lumbered to his feet. He didn’t hear a voice. There was no thunder. The ocean kept up its steady pounding. Absolutely nothing was different in his surroundings or in his mind.
But he started to cry.
He never cried.
But wet, sloppy tears leaked from his eyes. Utterly overwhelmed, he embraced the silence—and the peace—that settled over him. Then he heard it. The whimper of a child. He ran full speed toward the jetty. And from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Carly climbing out of the van.
32
Penny woke up hungry and cold, took in the walls of a big round pipe, and let out a frightened squeak. She had crawled in here an hour ago, maybe longer, because the pipe reminded her of her tent at home and she felt safe. But now the pipe was cold and wet. The waves were too loud, and her legs and bottom were so cold she couldn’t feel them.
She wanted to go home to Carly, Daddy, and her brothers, but she was lost and confused. With tears stinging her eyes, she hugged Miss Rabbit, but the rabbit couldn’t talk without Carly. Lance was in her backpack, but he couldn’t talk to her, either. Penny pressed her hands together the way Carly said, but she couldn’t stop the scared feelings from spinning in her tummy. They went faster and faster until they came out in a scream.
She was scared . . . so scared . . . scared of the loud water, of being lost, of never seeing Carly again, because she was just the nanny and nannies left.
“Penny!”
Her daddy’s big voice! Penny longed to shout back, but she couldn’t stop kicking and screaming. He called her again, louder than before. Her ears heard him, but her mind wouldn’t let her crawl forward. All she could do was clutch Miss Rabbit to her chest, kick her feet, and scream at the top of her lungs.
A shadow blocked the entrance to the pipe, then she saw Daddy’s legs. “I found her!” he shouted to someone.
He crouched down, and she saw his face. It was all red and puffy like hers.
“Penny! Thank you, God.”
He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled to her like a big dog or maybe a lion. Only instead of growling like Lance, he said her name over and over. Finally, he hauled her into his lap and held her so tight that all the cold vanished from her body. She hugged him just as hard, because he was having a meltdown, and Penny knew how that felt. They sat close and warm until he took a big breath. “Let’s go see Carly.”
Penny arched back so she could see his eyes. “She’s here?”
“You bet.”
“But Aunt DeeDee said Carly was leaving.” Penny sniffed hard. “I want her to stay forever.”
“So do I,” Daddy said.
He gave Penny another big squeeze, then put Miss Rabbit in her backpack, hung it on his shoulder, and scooted with her to the opening in the big pipe. The light made her squint, but she saw Carly’s legs pacing back and forth.
“Denise!” Carly shouted. “We found her. That’s right . . . the beach. She’s fine. Call my dad and Kyle. Yes. We’ll wait for you here.”
Penny pushed away from her daddy and crawled faster. With her heart so full it hurt, she scrambled out of the pipe and into the light. Carly swooped her into her arms and spun her around so fast Penny thought she would fly to heaven.
Her daddy came up next to them. Carly stopped spinning, and he put his arms around them both. Everyone stayed quiet, even Penny. But then she remembered what Aunt DeeDee said about nannies leaving, and she knotted her fingers in Carly’s shirt. If she held tight enough, maybe Carly would stay.
Penny leaned back so she could see Carly’s face. Her daddy made room but kept his hand on her side. With her heart beating fast, she opened her mouth to ask Carly to be her mommy, but then Daddy waved his arm.
“We’re down here!” he shouted.
Carly set Penny down but held on to her hand. Aunt DeeDee ran so fast her feet kicked up sand. Behind her, Penny saw Kyle, Eric, and a man with white hair. She didn’t know who he was, but he looked like a grandpa.
Aunt DeeDee slid to her knees and hugged Penny hard. Kyle called her Squirrel, and Eric promised to play “Shark” whenever she wanted. The grandpa-man watched with a big smile on his face, and Daddy and Carly kept hugging each other.
It was time for Penny to ask her very important question. Scared but hopeful, because Dr. God lived in the clouds and loved her, she walked over to Carly, looked up, and used her very best voice. “Will you be my new mommy?”
Carly blinked fast, then turned to Daddy. He looked at Carly a long time, so long that Penny wondered what was wrong. Maybe they needed Miss Rabbit and Lance to talk, or maybe Carly was leaving like Aunt DeeDee said.
Daddy knelt down and touched her arm. “Carly and I are going to talk about that.”
“I want her to stay!” Penny wailed.
“We all do,” Kyle said.
Carly crouched next to Daddy. When she spoke, the words came out slow. “Penny, listen. Your daddy and I need to have some grown-up time.”
Penny’s lips trembled. She wanted to understand what was happening, but there were too many people and too many words.
Carly took both of her hands. “It’s going to be okay.”
“But—but—”
“It will,” Carly said. “Wait for us at Aunt DeeDee’s house.”
Penny clung to her, but then Carly kissed her cheek. “I won’t leave you, Penny. I promise.”
Promises confused Penny, because sometimes people broke them by accident,
but then a gull caught her attention, and she watched it fly to the parking lot. Her daddy’s old car was there, and she remembered how she used to think it could take her to her first mommy. It couldn’t, but it could take her home with Daddy and Carly.
“All right,” she said to Carly and Daddy. “I’ll go with Aunt DeeDee, but come and get me. Okay?”
“We will,” he promised.
“And hurry,” she added with a sweep of her arm that included everyone. “I want to be together with you!”
Carly watched Penny leave with Denise. Ryan extended his arm with his palm up. “Let’s take a walk. I want to show you something.”
She clasped his fingers, and they headed toward the spot where she’d spotted him on his hands and knees. Gulls squawked as they walked, and the roar and slosh of the incoming tide echoed in her ears. After several silent yards, he stopped on an apron of sand wiped clean by a wave. He looked around to orient himself, then drew an X with the toe of his shoe. “This is it.”
Carly didn’t understand. “I saw you when I parked the van. I figured you were trying to pull yourself together.”
“I was, but it was more than that.”
“What happened?”
He shook his head, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can’t explain it. You could say I hit bottom, or that I reached the end of my rope. You could call it a breakdown or a meltdown. Whatever it was, it—” He shook his head for the second time.
Carly waited for him to say more, but he sealed his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow, then he blew out a gust of air. “I’m making a mess of this.”
“It’s all right. I know about meltdowns.”
“From Penny.”
“And my own.” She thought of last night’s pecan pie. She’d cried while baking it. “My dad helped me to see something. What you told me on the island—”
Together With You Page 28