by David Bell
“Then you should go with that feeling,” I said. “It’s a good one.”
“She seems so cold, so cut off from us.”
“You should come home with us, Abby. The three of us, back in our house. The way it’s meant to be.”
Abby started shaking her head before I even finished the sentence. “Oh, Tom. .” She kept shaking her head. “She doesn’t need two unhappy parents.”
When Ryan returned two hours later, Abby and I both asked how she was doing before he could even sit down.
“They’re finishing up. She’s getting dressed,” Ryan said. He settled into a chair. “The physical exam shows no real problems. She has a bruise on her abdomen that could have come from a fist, but it’s not a serious injury. She wouldn’t say what caused it. No broken bones or evidence of past broken bones. Her teeth are in good shape, although it doesn’t look like she’s been to a dentist in a while. She’s a little on the thin side for a girl her age and height. But her vital signs are normal. The lab will process the blood work over the next few days. It’s possible she’s anemic, but other than that, I don’t think they’ll find anything. Bottom line-wherever she’s been and whatever she’s been doing, she’s been pretty well taken care of.”
“That’s a relief,” I said.
“What about. . the other things you tested for?” Abby asked.
“The doctor did a rape kit to check for any evidence that might be left behind after a sexual assault. We won’t know those test results right away, but based on the exam, she doesn’t think it will reveal anything. There’s no obvious evidence of sexual assault. No vaginal bruising or bleeding. No defensive wounds on her hands, no scrapes or scratches. Just the one bruise I mentioned. And the pregnancy test was negative.”
“Thank God,” I said.
“That doesn’t mean there wasn’t a sexual assault at some time in the past. It just means that there hasn’t been a recent one. Now, the exam did reveal something that I feel I must share with you. It could be difficult to hear, especially considering all you’ve already been through.” He paused. “The examination revealed that Caitlin’s hymen is no longer intact. That would most likely indicate some type of sexual activity. Again, we can’t say if it was consensual or not, but it’s a fact we’re all going to have to deal with.”
I started to feel sick. The room, which to that point seemed perfectly comfortable, started to feel hot and close. My clothes clung to my body as though they were shrinking.
“What did she say about it?” Abby asked.
“Nothing,” Ryan said. “The doctor didn’t press, considering the situation. In fact, Caitlin didn’t respond to any of their questions about her health. She acted like she couldn’t hear them. She’s been like that ever since we brought her in. She’s barely spoken. I was wondering if she said anything to either of you when you were with her.”
Abby shook her head. “Nothing of substance. Right, Tom?”
I felt sweat beading on my upper lip. “Nothing.”
“Are you okay, Tom?” Ryan asked.
“I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed.”
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, trying for just a moment to escape. But I heard another voice speaking to Ryan, and when I opened my eyes again a man was standing there. He wore a polo shirt, khaki pants, and loafers, and looked like he was on his way to a golf game. His thinning hair was cut close to his head and his face was round and his cheeks smooth and rosy, giving him the appearance of an oversized baby. He must have been in his thirties, but he could have passed for much younger.
“Tom, Abby, this is Dr. Rosenbaum,” Ryan said. “He works with the police department as a psychiatrist, and he specializes in adolescent cases like Caitlin’s. He’s going to help you with the transition as you take Caitlin home.”
Dr. Rosenbaum took a seat next to Ryan and offered us a small smile intended to convey both sympathy and support. It looked forced, and it didn’t make me feel any better.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stuart,” Rosenbaum said, “today is really just the beginning of a long journey to reacclimate your daughter to a normal life. I know that seeing her again is cause for celebration and high emotion-as it should be-but the real work begins now, both for you and for the police. I’m here to assist you with the work that transition entails.”
“How long will she be in the hospital?” Abby asked.
Rosenbaum looked at Ryan, and Ryan nodded.
“We’re going to release Caitlin to you today,” Ryan said. “We see no reason to have her stay here overnight or for any further observation. Medically, she’s cleared and okay. We’ve asked her the questions we wanted to ask her. We’ll do more soon, though-don’t worry. Our investigation will continue.”
Rosenbaum cleared his throat. “I know you’re going to have questions about even the most basic things in Caitlin’s life. Does she go back to school at some point? Does she resume the life of a typical teenager?”
“Exactly,” Abby said. “I was wondering about school. Has she even been in school? What has she been doing?”
Rosenbaum offered the same forced smile. “We don’t have to tackle them all today. Like I said, this is a long road.”
“The press has no doubt gotten wind of this story,” Ryan said, “so we have to go put that fire out. I guess you can expect them to be knocking on your door soon enough. We’ll put out a statement asking for privacy. It will help some.”
“What are we supposed to do with her?” Abby asked. “I mean. . what do we do?”
Rosenbaum nodded. “You have to understand something about taking Caitlin back to your home. It’s not going to feel like her home to her, at least not right away. Wherever she’s been or whoever she’s been with. . that was home to her. Even if she was sleeping on the streets. She may not feel immediately safe in her old environment, the way we would expect her to be.”
“But it is her home,” Abby said. “It’s the only house she’s known. Her room is just the way it was when she disappeared.”
“The best thing you can do is make her feel safe,” Rosenbaum said. “That’s the biggest concern for victims of crimes like this. Keep her safe and secure. Expect some nightmares. But follow her lead and don’t rush her. You’re still parents, even after all this time. Trust yourselves. And she’s still your daughter. But she’s not going to be the same kid who walked out that door four years ago.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Four years have passed,” he said. “And who knows what trauma. The passage of time and events have shaped her just like they have shaped you. She’s not going to be the same person.”
Ryan cleared his throat. He had something to say.
“I wanted to check in with the two of you concerning your marriage. I’m merely trying to think of the best situation for Caitlin to come home to.”
“She’ll come home with both of us,” Abby said.
Ryan cocked his head, a little confused. “How’s that?”
“We’ll all go home together,” she said. “As a family.” I didn’t speak up, but Abby looked at me and spoke in my direction. “Caitlin needs me. She needs both of us. I don’t want her to think that her disappearance brought down her parents’ marriage.”
“It’s okay to tell the child whatever-”
She cut Ryan off. “No. We’re going home together. All of us.”
Ryan nodded. “Fair enough. Well”-he pushed himself to his feet-“I still have a lot of work to wrap up.”
“Doctor?” I said. “When we were at the police station, Caitlin said she wanted to leave. She didn’t act like she wanted to go home with us.”
“I explained the situation to her,” Ryan said, fielding the question. “She knows she’s leaving with you.”
“How did she respond to that?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, and I almost couldn’t look him in the eye while I waited for the answer.
“Caitlin has a lot of things to get used to,” Rosenbaum said. “And b
eing home with you is one of them. If you’d like, I can come to your house with you now, when you take Caitlin home. I could just observe her there and answer any questions you might have. I’ve done it before in similar situations.”
Abby turned to me. “What do you think, Tom? It sounds like a good idea.”
I considered it, but more than anything else, I wanted Caitlin home. With us, in our house. No strangers. No impediments or barriers between my daughter and me. “No, thanks,” I said. “I think we should just be there for Caitlin ourselves.”
Rosenbaum looked a little disappointed, but he stood up. He reached into his pocket and brought out a business card. “Do call me if you need anything tonight,” he said. “My cell number is on there. Otherwise, we’d like you to come to my office in the morning, and we can start working through the things we need to get through.”
“I’ve already been talking to someone,” I said.
“You’ve what?” Abby asked.
I looked around. Rosenbaum and Ryan were both studying me, waiting for an answer.
“I took your advice, Ryan,” I said. “I called one of those people from Volunteer Victim Services. We met once and talked about Caitlin and the case.”
“Who did you talk to?” Ryan asked.
“Susan Goff.”
Rosenbaum spoke up. “I think it’s best if we talk to Caitlin in a formalized, professional setting. My experience tells me that’s most effective.” He still held the business card in the air between us. “Is that okay with you?”
I took the card and handed it over to Abby.
“Ryan,” I said, “you referred to her as a victim of a crime. Does that mean everyone’s certain she didn’t run away?”
“It’s obvious a crime was committed somewhere along the line. Now it’s up to me to find out what it was.” Ryan jiggled the loose change in his pockets. “And for what it’s worth, I know Susan Goff. She does excellent work for us through Volunteer Victim Services. She’s good people.”
“But still,” Rosenbaum said. “I’d like to see Caitlin.”
“Of course, of course,” Ryan said. “See Dr. Rosenbaum first thing tomorrow.”
Ryan turned to go, and Rosenbaum followed him, leaving Abby and me to sit there and wait for Caitlin to be released to us.
Chapter Twenty-three
We drove home in awkward silence. Caitlin rode in the back, just like in her childhood, except now she stared out the window, her face blank and indifferent. She didn’t ask questions or comment on the passing scenery. She didn’t try to convince us to change the radio or CD to something she liked, so I asked her if she wanted to listen to something.
“I’m fine,” she said.
I didn’t know what else to say, and apparently neither did Abby.
Caitlin broke the silence for us.
“Where are you going to drop me off?” she asked.
“Drop you off?”
“You can do that anywhere,” she said.
I tried to talk to her with one eye on the road and one eye on her profile in the rearview mirror.
“We talked about this at the hospital, remember?”
She ignored me.
“We’re going home,” I said. “To the house you used to live in.”
Nothing.
“Your room is just the way you left it,” Abby said.
But that was it. Caitlin didn’t speak again the rest of the way home, not even when we turned down our street and saw the news van from the local TV station parked at the end of our driveway. A police department spokesperson had met with us at the hospital, and we gave our approval toa fairly standard statement, one that said we were happy to be home, thankful to have our daughter back, and eager for privacy. When I hit the turn signal and angled toward our driveway, the cameraman moved out of our way but kept his lens trained on the car. I took a quick look at Caitlin in the rearview. She seemed not to notice.
The reporter and cameraman didn’t follow us farther onto the property, so we were able to pull to the end of the driveway and the back of the house.
Abby and I climbed out, but Caitlin stayed in the car. Abby shrugged and pulled open Caitlin’s door.
“Are you ready to go in?” Abby asked. “Do you need a minute?”
Caitlin looked up, her lips slightly puckered. “This is where you’re taking me?”
“This is home,” Abby said. “Remember it? Here’s the yard and the back door. We left the front porch light on every night since you were gone. Every night. And the key was right there so you could come in if you wanted.”
“Really?” Caitlin said.
“Really,” Abby said. “We were waiting for you.”
Caitlin nodded a little, then stepped out of the car. I hustled with the keys and undid the back lock, opening the door ahead of them and stepping aside.
“It’s all pretty much the same as when you were last here,” I said.
Inside, Abby and I followed behind Caitlin as she went from room to room on the first floor, looking around and taking in the sights with the passivity of an unmotivated home buyer. She took a quick glance out the front window where the news van was still parked. The cameraman appeared to be putting his gear away, and the reporter, a young blond woman who I recognized from the news but whose name I couldn’t remember, was talking on a cell phone as she smoked a cigarette.
“Where’s Frosty?” Caitlin asked.
“Oh,” Abby said. “Oh, honey. .”
“Is he dead?” Caitlin asked.
“Honey, when you. . went away, we thought. . We put him to sleep. He was old. .”
“He’d only be nine,” Caitlin said.
“He wasn’t put to sleep,” I said.
They both turned to look at me.
“I took him to the pound, and someone else adopted him.” I looked at Abby. “I checked. In fact, if you want, I can try to find out who adopted him and we can try to get him back. Under the circumstances, I would think-”
Caitlin turned away, but I went on.
“We know you loved Frosty. And he was crazy about you. When you left, he used to sit by the door and cry. Didn’t he, Abby?”
“He did,” she said. “He was so sad not to see you.”
“You didn’t like Frosty, did you?” Caitlin asked. She turned and directed the question at Abby.
“I liked him,” Abby said.
“You didn’t like me to walk him. You thought I was getting away from you.”
“No, honey. I worried about you, of course. That’s what moms do.”
“We can get another dog,” I said. “Or we can try to get Frosty back.”
Caitlin turned away and shrugged a little. “Whatever,” she said. “Just don’t say everything’s the same, because it isn’t. That’s bullshit.”
Abby jumped a little but kept her cool.
“Your room is the same,” Abby said, staying on message. “Maybe we need to update it a little. And clothes. The clothes you have here wouldn’t fit anymore, I guess. Do you have any clothes from. . where you were staying?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Whenever you’re ready, we can go out and buy some things,” Abby said.
When Caitlin remained silent, Abby looked at me, helpless.
“Would you like to go up to your room? Maybe you’d like to take a nap?”
It took a long time, but finally Caitlin nodded.
We trudged upstairs, the three of us. Caitlin went and sat on her bed, while I remembered standing in that closet and feeling the piercing pain of her loss go through me like a lance.
“I bet the sheets aren’t clean,” Abby said.
“I got used to dirty sheets,” Caitlin said.
Abby sat next to Caitlin and leaned in close.
“Where was that, honey? Where were you sleeping without clean sheets?”
Caitlin didn’t answer. She stared at me.
Abby pressed on.
“If you tell us, the police can help find the man responsibl
e. It was a man, right? An older man who did this to you?”
Caitlin’s eyes widened, expressing an urgency to me, so I spoke up.
“Why don’t we let the kid sleep, okay, Abby?”
Abby looked a little wounded, a little betrayed by my comment. But it was just a flash.
“Honey,” she said, “I know this is tough, but you can talk to your dad or me about whatever you want, whenever you want. You know that, don’t you?”
“Who’s been sleeping in the guest room?” Caitlin asked.
“Why do you ask that?” Abby asked.
“I saw the door open when we came up here, and the sheets were messed up. Did you have company?”
“Buster was here visiting,” I said.
“Really?” Caitlin perked up a little.
“Have you seen your uncle Buster?” Abby asked. “You know, since you’ve been gone.”
“Why would you want to know that?” Caitlin asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s nothing.”
“We do have to be honest with you about something,” Abby said. “Dad and I. . we’ve been having some tough times in our marriage. It happens when people have been married for a long time. We’re trying to sort it out.”
“You mean with counseling or something?” Caitlin said.
“Yes,” Abby said. “Some of that. But we’re both here for you now. We’re both going to be in the house with you and helping you any way we can. Together. Right, Tom?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re taking me to a shrink tomorrow, aren’t you?” Caitlin said.
“The police think it would be best,” Abby said. “They have things they want to talk to you about.”
Caitlin looked at me when she next spoke, her eyes locked on mine, a reminder of the promise I’d made to her at the police station. “I don’t want to go somewhere and answer a bunch of fucking questions. I’m not interested.”