Damage

by Robin Stevenson

  “She left you with him?” Joelle nodded at Zach, who was sitting in the middle of a mountain of snow-white Kleenex.

  “I guess so. Yeah.”

  “That sucks.” Her forehead was furrowed. “She’ll probably be back soon though.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced.

  “What is it?” I said.

  She shook her head. “Ronnie likes to party. Sometimes she drinks too much, you know?”

  I shrugged. Most people did, it seemed to me. My parents sure did. Which reminded me...“Yeah. I’m supposed to be catching a bus this morning.” I’d have to call my folks if I didn’t, and they were not going to be impressed.

  “I can’t take him,” Joelle said. “I gotta sleep. I work again tonight.”

  I studied Zach. He’d been wearing that diaper all night, and it had to be soaked by now. Ronnie’s blue bag was on the floor, and I opened it up. A hoodie, Ritz crackers, a bag of raisins, a magazine... and not much else. The rest of her stuff was in the car, which she had taken with her last night. “Joelle? I don’t suppose you have any diapers around.”

  Joelle laughed. “Uh, no. Sorry, Theo. There’s a Walmart close though.” She pointed. “Out to the main drag, left at the lights, walk along a couple of blocks. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks.” Should I ask her to watch Zach for me while I got diapers? Maybe I could even persuade her to do the diaper change...

  She hid a yawn behind her hand. “Sorry, Theo. I have to hit the sack.”

  “Right.” I sighed and picked Zach up. “Come on, kiddo. We have a mission.” I loaded Zach into his stroller, buckled him in and headed out. It was already hot, and the air felt heavy and damp. By the time we got to the Walmart, I was sweating. I pushed the stroller through the automatic doors and into a wall of frosty air conditioning.

  The store was pretty empty. We cruised down the first aisle, and Zach started to squirm and struggle against his stroller straps. “You need to walk a bit, buddy?” I unbuckled him. “Come on. You can help me find the diapers, okay?”

  “Diapers,” Zach said, pointing.

  We were standing by a whole wall of them. “Duh. Thanks, kiddo.” I remembered that there had been a box of Huggies in the car, but apparently these things came in various sizes. Okay, not newborn, obviously, but beyond that there still seemed to be a lot of choices. What did Zach weigh? Twenty pounds? Thirty? I figured it was better to get diapers too big than too small, and since the toddler pictured on the box for thirty-pound kids looked about Zach’s age, I reached to grab it. Then I realized those ones were for girls. The pink packaging should have been the clue, I guess, but who knew they made diapers differently for boys and girls? And where were the thirty-pound-boy diapers?

  “You want Donald Duck or Lightning McQueen on your diapers?” I asked, looking down. But Zach wasn’t there anymore.

  “Zach!” I looked up and down the aisle and didn’t see him. Crap. Crap, crap, crap. “Zach!” I yelled again.

  No answer. He had completely disappeared. I shouldn’t have let him out of the stroller. I shouldn’t have let him out of the house. I shouldn’t have taken my eyes off him for a single goddamn second. Which way had he gone? I took a few steps to the end of the aisle and glanced to the right and then to the left.

  No sign of him.

  Where the hell was he? I ran past the diapers, past the baby food, past the rattles and toys. “Zach! Come here, Zachy!”

  God, what if he was really lost? Or worse? What if he’d been snatched by some pervert, or wandered out the doors into traffic, or...

  And there, just around the corner, sitting on a bright blue-and-white display potty, was Zach. I felt an overwhelming wave of relief that made my legs feel weak. He was fine. I hadn’t lost him after all. And then I realized that his tiny cargo shorts and pull-up diaper were down around his ankles.

  “No, no, Zach! You can’t...” I stepped toward him and realized from the look of concentration on his face that I might be too late. A second later, the potty began playing an upbeat musical number, and a strong smell confirmed my fears. Little Zachy had just made a doo-doo.

  “Zach go potty,” he informed me. The kid had the nerve to sound pleased about it.

  “Great,” I said. “That’s just great. I’m sure your mama will be proud.”

  “Mama,” he said. His bottom lip quivered. “Dada. Mama.”

  I blew out a breath. I shouldn’t have mentioned that word. “You’ll see her soon,” I said, and I hoped to God it was true. But right now I had a more immediate problem to deal with. I looked up and down the aisle. No one was paying any attention to us. I lifted Zach up, pulled up his wet diaper and pants, and closed the potty lid. “Okay, kiddo. Time for us to get away from the scene of the crime.”

  I tucked Zach back into his stroller, paid for a box of Donald Duck Pull-Ups and fled, pushing the stroller out the door without a backward glance.

  At least that was one nasty diaper change I wouldn’t have to deal with.

  I was half expecting Ronnie to be sitting in the living room when I got back, but there was still no sign of her. I stripped off Zach’s wet diaper and helped him into a clean, dry one, feeding his chubby legs through the elastic leg holes. He should have clean pants too, but his clothes were all in the car. I spotted Ronnie’s blue bag on the floor and opened it up again. “Zach, how about some raisins?”

  He beamed at me. “Raisins.”

  “Great.” I pulled out a half-full jumbo bag—and underneath it was Ronnie’s cell phone. I hadn’t even known she had one, or I’d have been trying to call her. I pulled it out of the bag and turned it on. The ringer was off, but she had a ton of text messages. I hesitated but only for a second. Password? How about Zach?

  Bingo.

  I handed Zach the raisins and scrolled through the messages. There were about thirty, and it didn’t look like she’d replied to any of them. I started at the beginning, three nights earlier.

  What’s up? You’re late.

  Are you on your way?

  Where are you, Ronnie? Call me.

  Hey, are you okay? I thought we said five o’clock.

  Ronnie, we’re all freaking out a little. It’s Zach’s bedtime. Where the hell are you?

  I’m calling the police if I don’t hear from you by morning.

  And the next day.

  Ronnie, I don’t want to get the cops involved. Call me. We’ll figure this out.

  Damn it Ronnie. This is messed up. At least let me know you’re both okay.

  Trying again. Call me.

  Drove over to your house. Again. Where the hell are you?

  Think about Zach. This isn’t fair to him or me.

  Ronnie, if you don’t call me I’m going to call the cops. Seriously.

  And the day after that.

  Called the cops. You know this is kidnapping, right?

  I felt a clutch of shock deep in my chest, like someone had just grabbed my heart and squeezed it, hard. Cops? Kidnapping? I stared at the words on the screen until they began blurring in their little green text boxes. My legs were wobbly. I sank into the chair and Zach looked solemnly up at me, chewing. Kidnapped. The phone was slippery in my hand.

  There were more texts—Just come home. We’ll figure it out. Ronnie, the longer you stay away the worse it looks. What the hell are you planning, Ronnie? You can’t just disappear—but I’d read enough.

  I started typing: I’m a friend of Ronnie’s. What’s going on?

  Seconds later, the phone vibrated in my hand. I answered quickly. “Hello?”

  “Hi.” A man’s voice. “Who is this?”

  “Uh, my name’s Theo. I’m a friend of Ronnie’s.”

  “Is she there? Put her on.”

  “No. She’s not. Is this Max?” I tried to remember exactly what she had told me about him.

  “Yeah. Where is she? Does she have Zach?” His voice was strained. “Are they okay?”

  “They’re fine,” I said. “Zach’s right here, actually.
”

  “Let me talk to him.”

  “Uh, okay.” I held the phone by Zach’s ear and waited.

  I could hear Max’s voice. “Zach, baby!”

  Zach’s eyes widened, and he dropped the bag of raisins. “Dada?”

  “Yes, it’s Dada. I miss you, Zachy.”

  “Dada, dada, dada.” Zach pulled his head back and studied the phone for a moment, as if he might be able to see his father in it. I tried to put it back to his ear.

  “Zach, you’re going to come home now, okay? Dada’s going to come get you. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Home. Zach home dada.” Zach’s face crumpled, and he looked like he was about to cry.

  “Soon, Zach, okay? I promise.”

  I handed Zach the raisins again, hoping to distract him, and spoke into the phone. “Hi. It’s me again.”

  “Who did you say you were? And where the hell is Ronnie?” he said.

  “My name’s Theo,” I said again. “I’m a friend of Ronnie’s.”

  “Right. Why do you have Zach? And where is she?”

  “She went out. She asked me to watch him for a few hours.”

  “Where are you? I’ll come get Zach right now.”

  I hesitated. Ronnie had said she was scared of Max finding her, and I’d assumed he was abusive. “Are you a cop?” I asked.

  He snorted. “I’m a teacher. But I called the cops, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t want to, but she wouldn’t return my calls or my texts. No one knew where she’d gone. Which, frankly, I wouldn’t care about at this point. But she took Zach.”

  I was slowly putting the puzzle pieces together. It wasn’t the car that she’d stolen.

  It was the kid.

  Chapter Eleven

  I picked Zach up and sank back down onto the chair with him on my lap. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Freaking out wasn’t going to help. Besides, it wasn’t really stealing if it was your own kid, was it? And no matter what she’d done, Ronnie was Zach’s mother. “You have shared custody?” I said. “And she took off?”

  “I have sole custody,” he said grimly. “Ronnie has a visit with Zach every Saturday. She’s supposed to have him back here by five, but this week she never showed up. I’ve been frantic. Where the hell are you?”

  “Yeah. Uh, I just found her phone and saw all your texts.” How was I supposed to know if he was telling the truth? Sure, Ronnie had lied about some stuff, but that didn’t mean I could trust Max.

  “Is she there, really? I mean, does she just not want to talk to me? Because all I care about is getting Zach back here, safe.”

  “She really isn’t here. She went out last night. I said I’d look after Zach. She was supposed to be back, but... well, she isn’t.”

  “She’s drinking,” he said.

  “That’s unfair. You don’t know that.” In my mind, I was seeing Ronnie’s face. I was seeing the way she had of looking up at me with her long-lashed eyes, her lips curved into a smile. “She just needed a break, okay? She was tired, and Zach was fussing. She just needed a bit of time to herself.”

  “Look, you don’t have to tell me. I loved her. Still do, in a way.” Max sounded tired and sad, more heartbroken than angry. “This is what she does. She’ll be back eventually, in an hour or two, or a day or two, or a week. She’ll apologize and she’ll cry and she’ll swear up and down that it’ll never happen again. And you’ll believe her, because it’s so obvious that she means every word. And for a few weeks, everything will be fine. You’ll think, maybe this time she’ll keep it together, you know? But sooner or later...” I could almost hear his shrug over the phone. “It’s why we split up.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to trust him, but there was something in his voice that told me he was telling the truth.

  “So, where are you?” he asked. “I’ll drive over and get Zach.”

  “We’re in LA, actually.”

  There was a stunned silence. “Did you say LA? As in California? She took Zach to California?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “She took him out of state. Damn.” He sounded dazed. “I can’t believe she took him out of state.”

  I felt guilty as hell. I’d been the one behind the wheel most of the way. “I had no idea,” I say. “I mean, I thought she was a single mom, you know? I didn’t mean to...well, to...”

  “Help her kidnap my kid?”

  “No. I mean, come on. It’s not kidnapping. I mean, she is his mom.”

  “It’s kidnapping,” Max said. His voice was harsh. “Most kidnappings are committed by the noncustodial parent. Bet you didn’t know that, huh?”

  I could hardly breathe. “But she won’t, you know, go to jail. Or stop being allowed to see Zach. Or...” My eyes were stinging.

  He didn’t reply right away, and when he did, his words didn’t make me feel any better. “Where are you?” Max said. “Give me the address. I’m going to get the first flight I can.”

  Zach leaned his head back against my chest. I put my free hand on the top of his head and stroked his dark curls. His hair was feather-soft. I imagined how Ronnie must have felt, taking him home every Saturday evening and not seeing him all week.

  I didn’t agree with what she’d done, but I could see why she’d done it.

  “Theo?” Max said. “I need the address.”

  I moved the phone away from my ear and stared at it. Just an ordinary white phone in a pink case, but I felt like I was holding a hand grenade. I just had to pull the pin and Ronnie’s life would never be the same. I could hear Max’s voice coming from the phone, low and urgent.

  This was his kid sitting on my lap, I reminded myself. His kid. Not just Ronnie’s.

  I looked down at Zach. He had one fat fist clenched around a handful of raisins, as if he’d forgotten he had them. He looked a bit like Ronnie, with his long dark eyelashes and full lips. I took a deep breath, feeling torn. I wanted to do the right thing, but what the hell was that? Keeping Zach away from his father, who obviously adored him? Or letting Max know where Zach was—and getting Ronnie arrested for kidnapping?

  It seemed to me that anything I did would be wrong. I didn’t want to hurt anyone—there had already been enough damage done.

  I guess it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I just needed time to think.

  So I hung up the phone.

  It started to vibrate again immediately. I stood up, hoisted Zach onto my hip and dropped the phone back into Ronnie’s bag. My mouth was dust-dry, but my hands were wet with sweat.

  I had to talk to Ronnie. I had to make her see that she couldn’t just run away from her problems. Maybe, if she called Max herself, she could explain. Make him understand, convince him not to take legal action...

  A phone rang, and I almost jumped out of my skin before I realized that the ringing was coming from Joelle’s room. It wasn’t Ronnie’s phone. I should have known that, since hers was still set on vibrate. Then the ringing stopped and I heard Joelle’s muffled voice. I blew out a long sigh of relief. “Maybe that’s Ronnie, huh? Maybe she’s calling Joelle to say she’s on her way home.” I sat back down in the chair with Zach, perching him on my knees and bouncing him up and down. “How about a horsey ride, kiddo? Bumpity-bump, bumpity-bump.”

  Zach gave a little squeal of delight. “Moh!”

  “You want more? Okay! Bumpity-bump, bumpity-bump...”

  Joelle stumbled out of her bedroom, wearing nothing but a tank top and underwear, bleary-eyed under a tousled mess of blond hair.

  I stopped bumpity-bumping. “What is it? Was that Ronnie?”

  “Max,” she said. “That was Max. When you told him you guys were in LA...well, I guess he figured Ronnie only had one friend down here.”

  “Oh crap. I didn’t mean to...” I banged the heel of my hand against my forehead. I guess it was kind of a corny, melodramatic gesture, but it felt sort of good. I did it again, harder. “I didn’t give him your address.”

  “Yeah. That’ll
take him about thirty seconds online.” She shrugged, palms turned up in a what-can-you-do kind of gesture. “He’s on his way. He’ll be on the first flight he can catch.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I hugged Zach so tight, he began to squirm. “What should we do?”

  Joelle sighed. “Nothing. Wait, I guess.” She picked a pair of flannel pants off the floor and pulled them on.

  “Is Max an okay guy? I mean, was he abusive or anything like that?”

  She gave me a puzzled look. “God, no. The guy was patient to a fault, you know? He stuck with her through all kinds of crap. I kept telling Ronnie, ‘Don’t screw this up.’” She shrugged. “Not that I’m saying it was all her fault that they split up. But...” “She has a drinking problem,” I said flatly.

  Joelle bit her bottom lip. “I tried to tell you, but I didn’t want to sound like I was bad-mouthing her, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” What was it about Ronnie that made us all want to protect her? It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, or smart, or funny. There was something about her—a vulnerability, I guess. Maybe I was being sexist, but underneath the attitude and the independence, she seemed sort of fragile. “You said you guys go way back.”

  “We’ve been best friends since junior high. We played softball together. We were both total tomboys, if you can believe that.”

  “Seriously?” Back when Ronnie used to babysit me, she had long hair and wore tight T-shirts, tall leather boots and thick black eyeliner.

  Joelle laughed. “We were twelve. It didn’t last long.” She stopped laughing abruptly and sat down on the arm of my chair. “How well did you know her?”

  “Not at all, really.” I looked down at Zach, who was unusually quiet. His eyes were half-closed. I lowered my voice, hoping he might drift off to sleep. “I was a kid, she was a teenager. Different worlds. She was nice to me. Took an interest in my projects, acted out Star Wars scenes with my action figures. I thought she was amazing, but I didn’t know anything about her life.”

  “Her parents were alcoholics,” Joelle said bluntly. “Both of them. Her dad put away a couple of martinis and a bottle of wine every night. His liver must be shot by now, but he had some big job and made tons of money. I don’t think people outside the family even knew he had a problem.”