by Anne Eliot
“You’re welcome.” I nod—tensing as I realize Royce has appeared at the end of the hallway. I wonder if he’s pausing to watch us, waiting for us to pass by, or maybe he’s only eavesdropping as usual. I become a mass of self-consciousness, all while my stomach half fills with butterflies and half lurches in alarm. In the meantime, my entire body decides I simply can’t go near him or speak to him right now. Not in front of Mrs. Felix, or Gregory. Not today, not tomorrow, just no. And with the baby’s mom coming back, maybe not ever again.
Panic sets in again, and I only want to be out of here, back in my cottage and hiding in my room.
So much for being an adult from this point forward.
Quickly, I turn my back on him so I don’t even have to see his silhouette staring us down. “Um. If you don’t mind, could I—request a favor in return? Can I go early today? As in, soon. Now even? And then maybe if it’s not too much to ask, I could take the day off tomorrow as well. It would be to make up for working Friday night and both Saturday and Sunday?”
“Oh. Yes. This makes perfect sense, as we don’t want to overwork you, dear.” Mrs. Felix’s eyes are latched onto my face. “I didn’t notice, but suddenly, you do look very tired, dear. What do you think, Gregory? Can we handle this afternoon and tomorrow without her?”
“Yes.” He’s scrolling through texts. “Vere has already responded that she will fill in, and I’ve already texted the limo driver to meet you at the side door so he can drive you home. How’s that?”
“Really?” I smile, turning back and panicking more because Royce seems to have moved closer.
“Oh. But wait. Gregory has something for you that Royce gave to us to hand over, but now I think we shall just keep it with us in case we need it.”
“Ah yes.” Gregory reaches into his pocket, pulls out the remote portion of the baby monitor, and hands it to me. “Apparently, you dropped it in his closet when he was lending you a sweater and his jacket for the baby?
He raises one brow up high and hands the remote unit to me. “He said your voice—talking to the baby—startled him. Said once he found the thing, he couldn’t stop listening to you, because you’re so funny and interactive with the baby. He said you have whole one-sided conversations with our little bundle. Would have liked to hear some of that,” Gregory laughs, unaware that I’m flipping out because this means Royce overheard everything I said after that kiss.
“Why would the baby need Royce’s jacket?” Mrs. Felix is asking, but I can hardly hear her over the pulsing in my temples.
“Um. See?” I pull the jacket sleeve out from where I’d tucked it next to the baby’s cheek and hold it up for them to see. “Because Royce is so busy, I—we—thought his clothing would be good to keep near the baby for when he can’t hold her. So she could smell him. And…”
“And you mean when Royce is busy ignoring her and being a negligent and terrible father the baby might not notice her father is missing?”
I nod.
“Don’t think I don’t know what’s been going on these past days.” She frowns. “Vere keeps me informed of everything.” Mrs. Felix sighs. “But maybe lending his beloved jacket to you means that he’s finally coming around?”
I nod again acting a little like I’m agreeing, but manage not to scream out: No—he sucks even worse than he sucked yesterday, and now I’ve joined him on the road to hell. No wonder he’s standing there watching us have this conversation. He’s sent his own grandmother to secretly torment me for his private entertainment.
Yep. I hate him more. Just like he said I should.
More. More. More!
I shake my head and hand the remote back to Gregory while I say with utter politeness, “Please tell him I’m so sorry.” Forcing a grin while biting down on my cheeks hard, I make a break for the elevator that just opened to let in the dinner chef and his crew. “And thanks for the day off.”
Mrs. Felix, surprised by my hasty exit, calls after me. “Wonderful. We’ll shall all see you at your party, Friday then?”
Because I’m so far into overdrive with Royce’s staring me down and my inner voice shouting ‘run’ inside my head, I don’t know how I make it inside the elevator. I’m pushing the L to go down as well as the ‘close-doors’ buttons as hard as I can. “Yes. Party. Everyone’s invited. See you there.”
Mrs. Felix calls after me again, “Wait. I wanted to ask about what present you would like.”
“Not necessary. Please. Nothing,” I call through the last few inches of elevator doors as they slide shut.
It’s not until I’m in the limousine and halfway home that my breathing calms enough for me to be aware of my surroundings, which is when I realize I’ve left my purse and Sage’s signed ‘Concert Ball’ with the Berlin concert on it back in the baby’s room.
I sigh, annoyed, because I’ve also left the Guarderobe cell phone there as well, which means I can’t even text Vere to please give it all to Mrs. Felix to bring when they come to the party.
Chapter 32
The next morning, I wake up feeling warm and comfortable. I’m half dreaming my Dad is out in the kitchen making us French toast, but when I come fully awake and realize where I am and what day it is—my eighteenth birthday and that my Dad won’t be here for it—I curl into a ball and clutch one of my pillows over my heart. I try to focus on all that is positive. I’m happy, Sage and I are safe. I’m so grateful to be in this bed, inside this cottage, surrounded by the Perinos and so relieved to have made it to eighteen. But I don’t feel eighteen, today. I feel like I’m eighty. I feel worried and crumpled and withered, like I don’t want to move my limbs.
“Day one as a real adult and I can’t do it,” I whisper rubbing at my face and eyes that feel salt encrusted and dry, denying the part where I might have cried in my sleep. I roll over onto my stomach and bury my face into my covers. “I can’t even get out of bed. All I want to do is hide in this room and not face this day or tomorrow or the next.”
“Robin. Are you talking to me? If not, can you let a person sleep in? It’s my day off too, you know?” Sage says sleepily from the other room.
“Sorry. Just having a massive panic attack in here. Don’t mind me.” When he doesn’t answer, I say louder, “Would you be upset if I quit the nanny job? As in, never went back?”
“Why? Yes. It’s Guarderobe. Duh. I haven’t even met them yet, and though you say they gave me a cool present, I’ve not seen that yet, either. If you quit I will never get that concert-playing-projector-thing.”
“Yes you will.”
“Absolutely no quitting until you bring me to the band or you bring the band to me.”
“Right. No problem. They’ll be right over,” I say sarcastically, groaning into my pillow. “In the meantime, I’m serious.”
“So. Am. I,” he calls out, sounding annoyed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Sage, the job is getting to me. It’s…making me not focus on my real goal of taking care of you and getting us settled. I think I should call Joanie. I think I shouldn’t go back to work up in that hotel again…because…well…so many reasons but, mostly because,” I pull in a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “I think we should go home.”
“Back to base? No. Heck no.” I hear a thunk, then another thunk, and in two seconds Sage pads into my room with his comforter in tow, his wild hair puffing all around his head like a displaced lion’s mane. He collapses at the end of my mattress, dragging the covers around him. “This is home now. I want to stay here. I love it here. You love it here. You love the Perinos. They love us. We love them. They’re already family to me. And the job can’t suck that much, because you always say how you love the baby. And Vere is a good friend now, you said. Just hang on and stick to the plan.”
“If one more person says the word plan to me…” I roll my eyes.
“Why? The plan is solid. It is only a few more days, right? Dad says, don’t burn bridges, and if you just up and quit and don’t go back, isn’t that burning bridges? Guarderob
e…well, you know how I feel about them, and I know you kind of like them. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could have a good connection with them? Like forever? I’m planning to get to go to the show tonight, after the party.”
“What?” I frown at him. “How.”
“Well you said Mrs. Felix and Gregory are coming here. Maybe you’re too proper and proud to ask them for concert tickets, but I’m not. I mean to beg for them to take me along to the show with them after the party. I’m going to grip onto that lady’s wheelchair and not let go. You’ll see. I’m going to that concert tonight.”
I laugh. “So me, keeping the job, is all for your personal, selfish reasons?”
“Yes.” He smiles shamelessly. “And you will say I was right to act this way, because once I’m best friends with the guys and we’ve all exchanged cell phone numbers and they’ve let me post a few good shots of all of us bro-hugging in Instagram, all will be perfect because I’ll be popular and happy forever. I’ll start school and we’ll just stay here and live our lives together in this cottage, being a family with the Perinos until we get news about our dad, just how we planned.” He flops over onto his back, smiling up at the ceiling his expression smug, like he’s just figured out how to solve world hunger. “Oh, and Guarderobe will sometimes come over, like to check in on us. You’ll visit with Vere and the baby and catch up. Go shoe shopping or whatever, and it’s because we’re all going to be such good friends forever, thanks to this summer where you were their awesome nanny.”
“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” I fold-over my pillow into a more comfortable lump and settle back on it.
“Yes. So, can you please hold steady and not mess up my perfectly pictured life? Please?”
“But—it’s not our life. None of it. Not really.”
“But it is. Look at us here in this place. Breathing. Living life. Our life is happening now.” He fixes his own pillow. “We’re happy here. Happier than we’ve been in so long. Maybe all of the Guarderobe junk won’t happen, but the Perinos, living in Orlando, that’s real. They do want us to stay.”
“But what if we can’t.” I shake my head. “I’ve turned eighteen and nothing’s changed.”
“It’s been all of seven hours, Robin. Give yourself a chance to get out of bed first?” Sage smiles over his covers at me.
“Maybe you’re right.” I laugh. “But…I don’t know how to make it all legal. I don’t know how to get the custody transferred from Joanie to me. I’m scared. Really scared. Like I said before, I think staying here could get the Perinos in trouble. And you know they don’t have money. If we stay, they are the kind of people who’d want to help us because they like us as much as we like them. They would wind up spending what little money they do have on trying to hire attorneys for us instead of on themselves and on the girls.”
“But Angel’s going to go to law school. He can be our attorney. He knows a lot already.”
I laugh. “It will take him four years to be able to stand up for us in a courtroom. And just wait until they find out we’re runaways. They’re going to feel betrayed, and they’re going to be so upset we might get kicked out of here just for lying.”
Sage blinks. “Oh. If that’s what you’re worrying about, don’t. Mrs. Perino knows about us and where we came from, even about our dad being M-I-A. She seemed fine with the information. She certainly didn’t seem afraid or worried.”
“What?” I sit up like I’ve been zapped with lightning. “No.”
“Yes.” Sage nods. “She and I talked to Joanie together yesterday when you were at work. She called and I was the one that answered the phone. She recognized my voice right away and we started talking. I told her that we were sad about Dad still, but so happy here. She said she was glad we were safe, that she was happy to hear my voice, and then she talked to Mrs. Perino for a long time.”
My whole body has gone rigid. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I forgot. And when you came home yesterday, you were all cranky and went straight to bed. You didn’t come out for dinner, remember?”
I nod, trying to calm my breathing while Sage continues, “You know I don’t approach you when you’re acting all psycho like that. Mrs. Perino thought you might be sick or having the monthly ‘girl time’, so we decided to leave you alone. Mrs. Perino said you looked like you didn’t need more stress, and we decided to tell you about Joanie after your birthday party today.”
“Did Joanie say she wanted to talk to me? I mean, was there any sort of specific message for me?” I ask.
Sage blinks his big blue eyes again. “Yes. She said I should tell you to call as soon as you can. That’s all.”
“God. Okay. Okay. Great.” I keep my voice calm and sunny. “Well, maybe I’ll just call Joanie now, just in case she wants to speak to me personally. Wish me a happy birthday and all that.” I fake a smile to match my voice.
“Oh. She does. She did say that, actually.”
“Okay. Good. Go back to sleep.”
I stand so quickly I feel dizzy, but somehow I manage to slip out of bed keeping my face straight so Sage doesn’t know I’ve died inside.
Copying Sage’s move from his bed to mine, I drag my comforter wrapped around me until I’m through the cottage then take it with me out through the backyard, and into the Perinos’ back door. I register that it’s Friday so I know Joanie will be starting her coffee, getting ready for work, and waking up her kids.
She picks up right away. “Hello. Robin?”
“Yes. I talked to Sage. I’m sorry I didn’t call last night, I only just got the message you called.”
“Oh thank God. I thought you’d be angry and not want to speak to me, and anyhow, I was going to call back today if we didn’t hear from you. Are you angry?”
“Angry. Why would I be angry that you care about us?” I fake more sunshine and lollipops into my voice. “Who’s ‘we’? Did you hear something about my Dad?”
“No. Of course not, Like I warned you last time we spoke, I finally had to report you to the authorities as a real runaway. The MP came to do a check, and I had no choice but to show them your note and tell them everything.”
“What does that mean? Can we come home? I want you to know that I’ve decided to do that. To start over. To try to do things right. I’m going to finish working the weekend here to give proper notice, and then Sage and I will simply drive home. Is that okay? Will you let us come back? If I apologize and try harder, will you?”
“I’m sorry, Robin. It’s too late for that.” Silence crackles on the line between us, as I hear Joanie’s breathing quicken like maybe she’s crying.
“Does that mean, no?”
“Today you’re eighteen, and so legally now,” she sighs before going on, “legally now, Robin, you’ve gone from teen runaway all the way to being a kidnapper.”
“What? No! You can’t kidnap your own brother. What?”
“I’ve been advised to tell you to stay put. Don’t drive away with Sage. Not anywhere. Not back here, not anywhere. That might make things worse. Stay exactly where you are. Stay safe and they will come for you both in a few days or less. Mrs. Perino is fully cooperating. She’s signed papers and agrees to watch after your safety and not let you leave the state of Florida until they come. I think it’s okay that you keep working. They didn’t say anything about that either way.”
I gulp, and the rushing sound returns to my head and threatens to consume me. “They. Who? What and who do you mean?”
“The authorities. Social Services, and the police. Mrs. Perino gave your assigned caseworker her address last night. Like I said she has sent her ID’s, has had a fast background check to be able to continue to house you, and she signed a whole bunch of legal papers about you, which she has already sent back. She’s like me. She has little kids to worry about that she doesn’t want to lose or hurt, and so she has to follow the lines of the law or she will get in terrible trouble. You were smart not to inform her that you were a runaway. Though
, from how she was talking last night, I think she guessed something was up. She told me if you didn’t come forward this week with your real story and situation she was going to report you herself.”
“I was waiting for today, for my birthday.”
“Well, now she knows. Don’t screw this up, Robin.”
Joanie’s words weigh on my heart so heavily that I can hardly breathe.
“Because everyone is cooperating, you’re listed as found and safe, which means my family and the Perinos are on the good-list for doing everything right. The rest is up to you. As soon as our police department here communicates with the department there, they said the caseworker would collect you both and transport you safely back to North Carolina so they can secure Sage and process you both”
“Secure Sage? Process us? You make me sound like a criminal. Oh my God, Joanie. Do I need a lawyer? How should I protect myself? Are you saying all of this was for nothing and that Sage has to go into foster care? Dump me, that’s fine. I deserve it, but are you saying you won’t even take him back after all of this?”
Joanie sighs, like my utter devastation is so inconvenient to her. “Look. I have my own problems and my own kids. When you’re an adult and have yours, you’ll understand that a person can only take so much.”
“I’m an adult today, Joanie, and I don’t understand how you can just close the book on us, on our dad, and on your own husband. M-I-A does not mean dead. It means missing.”
She ignores that fact, like she has ever since we started fighting about it. “You probably won’t need an attorney. It all just needs to be explained to the courts. It’s going to take a little time and a lot of red tape to get things sorted. But be ready to also cooperate, young lady, or Sage is going to be lost to you. When they show up, they’re going to take Sage into protective custody, and if you resist they could easily arrest you. They now think you can’t be trusted because you ran away once already. I’ve told them you had his best interests at heart and they did seem to listen and agree your intentions are good, but according to them, you’ve jeopardized Sage’s safety and well-being with this stunt and they’re taking that seriously.”