"Thank you," she said to the man at the counter.
Jessica looked at the front door one more time, then walked toward the door to the buses.
She checked her watch. The hearing must have been over hours ago, and they must have found my letter by now, she thought. So, Nicky was right. They really don't care about me. If they did, they would have been here by now, begging me to come home. Or maybe they thought I didn't have the guts to go through with it. Well, I'll show them!
Defiantly, Jessica pushed her way through the double doors and headed for the bus, which was in the final stages of loading. She walked up to the driver and handed him her ticket.
"Is this the bus for San Francisco?"
He checked her ticket and nodded. "Yep. Just put your bags down over there and grab a seat. We'll be leaving in about five minutes."
Jessica sighed as she set her suitcases in the baggage area. She grabbed the handrail of the bus and pulled herself into it. Staring straight ahead of her, she walked to the back and settled in a seat by the window. Hoping for a last-minute reprieve, she looked at the people walking by the buses. A quick arrival by her mom, dad, Steven, and Elizabeth, a happy reunion, and she could go home, which was where she wanted to be more than she'd ever wanted anything.
Jessica was shaken from her thoughts by a familiar voice at her side. She looked around and saw the old woman from the waiting room taking the seat next to her.
"Well, if this isn't good luck, I don't know what is," the old woman cackled. "I hate taking this ride because I never have anyone to talk to, and now, here we are together, just like old friends. Won't this be fun?"
"Fun," Jessica said flatly. She sighed and tried not to cry as she stared out the window.
Steven talked excitedly as he waited for someone to answer the phone. "You remember Joe Seegar. He was on the basketball squad with me in high school. He's sort of in with Nicky's crowd, and he might be able to help." He paused as someone answered.
"Yeah?" the voice on the phone snapped.
"Joe, this is Steve Wakefield."
"Hey, hi ya, Steve. How's it going? What can I do for you?"
"Listen, I'm looking for Nicky Shepard."
"I know he took off, but I don't know where."
Steven sighed. His parents and Elizabeth stared at him hopefully from across the room. "That's too bad," he said casually to Joe Seegar. "I owe him a hundred bucks from last spring, and I finally got the money together. If you hear from him, tell him I want to pay him back."
Steven waited. Joe was silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. Then he said, "I know he needs the money right now, so I'll tell you. He's with Denny Wyatt, in San Francisco. You can probably get his number from information. The two of them got some kind of business thing going. Sorry I didn't tell you right off, Steve, but you never know. I always figure, if somebody wants somebody to know where they are . . . you know?"
"Sure," Steven replied. "Thanks a lot, Joe."
He hung up the phone and turned to his family. "Nicky's in San Francisco."
"San Francisco?" his father repeated. "You don't think Jessica would—"
Suddenly he sprang into action. "OK, the Fiat's still here, there are only two ways she could go, by bus or by plane. If she just left this afternoon, we may still be able to catch her."
"That's right," Alice Wakefield agreed. "Why don't you two take the bus station? Your father and I will take the airport."
"Right." Steven grabbed his car keys and headed for the door, Elizabeth following close behind.
"And listen." Their father halted them. "If you find her, make sure she knows we aren't mad at her. We just want her to come home."
Elizabeth fought back her tears. "I will, Dad. I will."
Thirteen
Steven turned his yellow Volkswagen into the parking lot and pulled into a space. He and Elizabeth unbuckled their seat belts and ran for the bus terminal.
There was a line at the ticket window, and Steven and Elizabeth stood at the end of it for a few moments. At the front of the line, a woman with two screaming children was quarreling with the ticket vendor over the price of a child's fare.
Steven kept glancing impatiently at the front of the line. Finally, he threw his hands up. "The hell with this stuff," he muttered as he pushed his way to the window.
"Hey!" the woman exclaimed.
"Excuse me," Steven said, "but this is an emergency."
He turned to the startled ticket agent. "Did you sell a ticket to a Jessica Wakefield today?"
"We don't take names on the tickets."
"Well, she's a young girl, about five feet six, very pretty with blue-green eyes and . . . " Steven sighed. "Wait a minute." He took hold of Elizabeth and pushed her toward the window. "She looks just like this."
The ticket agent looked at Elizabeth in surprise. "What happened, miss? I thought you were going to board that last bus."
Elizabeth and Steven exchanged glances. "A bus for San Francisco?" Steven demanded.
"Why, yes. What's going on here?"
"Has that bus left?" Elizabeth asked him.
"It's leaving just now," the agent replied. "Gate three."
Steven and Elizabeth pushed their way through the complaining crowd at the window and ran to the departure gate. They got there just as the bus pulled out.
Elizabeth ran after the bus, yelling for it to stop, but the driver didn't hear her.
"Oh, Steve!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "We missed her."
"Come on." Steven headed back toward the building. "We haven't lost yet."
Steven rushed into the station and pushed in front of the same woman, who was still arguing about the fare.
"Now, just a minute," she yelled.
"That bus," Steven demanded. "What's the next stop?"
"Look, buddy, you can't just push your way into line like that," the ticket agent responded.
"What's the next stop!" There was no mistaking Steven's urgent tone.
The agent backed off. "Carver City," he said.
"Thank you," Steven said. With Elizabeth in tow, he rushed out of the station.
The agent looked after them. "You're welcome."
Steven put the car into gear and headed north on the old highway.
"We'll never make it." Elizabeth moaned. "The bus has a good five-minute head start."
"We'll make it," Steven said. His voice was filled with determination, and his knuckles were almost white as he gripped the wheel and drove the car along the old country road at a high speed.
"What happens if we miss it, Steve?" Elizabeth asked desperately.
"Then we drive to the next stop, and we keep doing that until we catch up to her. I don't care if we have to follow her all the way to San Francisco."
Elizabeth glanced at the fuel gauge. It was approaching empty. There was enough gas to get to Carver City, but after that, they'd have to refuel. That would set them back more time.
"This is more my fault than anybody's," Steven muttered. "I've been so wrapped up in myself, I haven't taken the time to realize what was going on with Jess."
"It isn't just your fault, Steve."
"No, that's probably true. But still, I've been so horrible to Jess lately. I'll never forgive myself if something happens to her."
Elizabeth tried to make her voice sound as reassuring as possible. "Nothing is going to happen to her."
"I just keep asking myself how this could have happened," Steven continued. "How could this have gone so far without any of us noticing?"
"Look, I'm Jessica's twin. I'm the person who's closest to her in the whole world, but even I don't know what's going on in that mind of hers sometimes."
They drove in silence for a while. Elizabeth had driven through Carver City a couple of times. She recognized the outskirts of the town and knew they were getting close.
"Do you know where the bus terminal is?" she asked her brother.
"I've got an idea," Steven answered.
But the to
ne of his voice didn't sound certain. Elizabeth crossed her fingers and prayed that he would find it quickly. They had no time to waste. Any delay might spell disaster.
Well, she thought, as Steve says, if we miss her here, we'll just keep going until we catch up to her. You don't get away that easily, my dear sister.
Jessica kept her head turned away from the old woman so she wouldn't have to explain the tears that coursed down her cheeks. She didn't want to explain anything to anybody. She just wanted to go home.
But she knew now that she didn't even really have a home to go back to. Home was a place where people cared about you and loved you. For years, Jess had thought her family loved her, but now she knew the truth. How could they just let her go like this? she wondered. How could they read that letter and not know that she was crying out to them, begging them to take her back into their warmth and love? They must have known that, and if they knew it and still didn't try to stop her, then it meant only one thing. They just didn't care.
"Isn't it true, honey?"
Jessica realized that the old woman had asked her a question. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
The woman noticed the tears that were falling from Jessica's blue-green eyes. "Hey, are you OK, honey?"
Jessica wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. "Yes," she sniffled. "It's just—"
"I know." The woman handed her a tissue. "First time away from home. It's always hard."
"Yes," Jessica agreed.
"When my first one left home—that was Bobby—when Bobby left home to join the navy, it nearly broke his heart. He called every night for the first week. Then it was about once a week, then once a month. Now I'm lucky if I get a Christmas card. His own mother."
Jessica smiled at the woman and thanked her for the tissue. The woman patted her arm and smiled. "Don't you feel too bad, honey. Every little bird has to leave the nest sometime. But the wonderful thing is, you can always go back, and they'll always be there for you. That's the wonderful thing about a family. They'll always be there for you."
Jessica began to bawl like a baby as the bus slowed down. The old woman just looked out the window and smiled.
"Well, this'll be Carver City," the woman exclaimed cheerfully. "I think I'll run in and grab a couple of magazines. It's a long haul to San Francisco, and I expect you'll get bored with my chatter soon enough. Can I get you anything, honey?"
Jessica shook her head and thanked the woman again.
The bus came to a halt outside the terminal at Carver City. It was a tiny station, just one small building. There didn't seem to be anybody waiting to get on the bus. There was just a man in a uniform who had some boxes at his feet.
The driver put the bus into park and picked up his microphone. "Carver City," he announced. "We're only stopping for a couple of minutes, folks, just to take on some freight, so if you want to stretch your legs, don't go too far."
He opened the doors with a hiss and left the bus. The old woman was right behind him. Jessica watched her as she disappeared into the building.
Jessica turned her head from the window and sighed deeply as she thought of her home and family. Liz, Steve, Mom, Dad, what were they doing now? Were they thinking about her, or were they already going on with their own lives?
Jessica heard the cargo door slam shut, and she saw the driver head back into the building. He came out a moment later with the little old lady following close behind. He helped her onto the bus and climbed in after her.
The old woman smiled as she sat down in her seat. "I got some of those magazines that all the young girls read, just in case you feel like looking some of them over."
The old woman began to page through one of the magazines as the bus pulled out of the station. Suddenly she looked up, her face contorted in terror.
"Wait! Wait!" she yelled. "Stop the bus!"
The bus driver slammed on the brakes and turned around in his seat. "What? What's the matter?"
The woman ran to the front of the bus. "I have to make a phone call. I just remembered something. It's important."
"Lady." The bus driver sank back down in his seat. "You scared me out of my head. I can't stop now for you to make a phone call. We're on a schedule here."
"Please," the old woman pleaded. "I just remembered that I left the humidifier on in my room. When the water runs out, it'll overheat and catch fire. You have to let me call my neighbor to tell her."
The bus driver looked at his watch and threw up his hands in exasperation. "OK. OK, you've got five minutes."
"Oh, thank you," the woman said as she hobbled down the stairs. Jessica watched her hurry back into the building. She sighed and turned her eyes back to the floor. She wasn't in any hurry to get anywhere. As far as Jess was concerned, the old woman could take a year on the phone if she wanted to.
Elizabeth was the first one to see the bus as they pulled into the terminal. At first, to her dismay, the bus began to pull away, and she thought they'd missed it again. But then, for some reason, it slammed to a halt, and a little old woman ran out.
Elizabeth was out of the car as soon as it stopped. Steven wasn't far behind. They ran until they reached the open door of the bus. Ignoring the driver, they stood at the front of the bus and looked down the aisle.
Jessica sat very still, looking at the floor. The first time she heard the voice, she thought it was in her head. She had to hear it again before she was sure it wasn't just her imagination.
She lifted her head slowly and looked into her sister's eyes.
"Jess!" Elizabeth repeated.
Jessica's despair vanished when she saw the tears in Elizabeth's eyes.
"Jess, please, please don't leave us," Elizabeth said, sobbing. "We all love you. I don't know what we'll do if you go away. Please, Jess. Please."
Jessica looked behind Elizabeth and saw Steven. He said nothing, but she could read the look in his eyes.
The shock of seeing them there wore off, and Jessica stood up. She wrapped her arms around her twin and cried into her shoulder. She felt Steven's arms around her, and the three of them just stood in the tiny aisle for a moment, crying and holding on to one another as if there were no tomorrow.
"Excuse me, folks." The bus driver's voice came over the loudspeaker.
Jessica looked up to see the entire bus staring at them. "I don't care if you want to hug and kiss like that all the way to San Francisco, but you other two gotta buy tickets."
The three Wakefields laughed and hugged one more time. "I'm sorry, sir," Jessica said to the driver, "but none of us is going on to San Francisco. Could I get my bags back, please?"
The driver rolled his eyes and headed for the door. "Why not?" he muttered. "We might as well all get out and have a picnic here, too. Who cares about schedules anyway?"
After much shuffling of bags, the bus driver finally found Jessica's and handed them to her. Jessica thanked him and watched as he got back on the bus. The little old lady came running out of the terminal and gave Jessica a surprised look.
"What's going on, honey? You leaving us?"
"Yes." Jessica smiled. "You were right about families. They are always there when you need them." Jessica gave her brother and sister a squeeze.
The old woman returned Jessica's smile and walked toward the bus. "I'm right about a lot of things, honey. You think anybody listens?" She smiled from the door of the bus. "Good luck to you, honey."
"You, too," Jessica replied. The three of them watched as the bus pulled away.
Steven picked up Jessica's suitcases and walked ahead of the twins as they made their way back to the car.
"We should probably call Mom and Dad. They'll be so worried," Elizabeth said, holding onto Jessica's arm.
Jessica scowled. "I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?"
"No, of course not, Jess," Steven replied. "We're all just so glad to have you back. That's all that counts."
"I was so worried when you didn't show up at the bus station," Jessica said. "I
thought that after you read my letter, you'd be right down."
"What letter?" Elizabeth asked.
Jessica stopped. "You mean you didn't find the letter?"
"No, I didn't see any letter."
"Well, how did you track me down?"
"It wasn't easy, and it's a long story. I'll tell you on the way back home."
Steven threw the suitcases in the trunk of the little yellow VW and slid in. Elizabeth climbed in the back and let Jessica have the passenger seat.
"You know, Liz," Jessica said slyly. "I'm sort of glad you didn't find that letter."
"Why?"
"Well, I said some pretty crazy things in it."
Elizabeth gave her sister a tender smile. "Don't worry about it, Jess. I'll never have to read it now."
"Good," Jessica said firmly. "I must have been crazy. Now that I think about it, those jeans look much better on me than they ever would on you."
The reunion at home with her parents was just as warm, and Jessica reflected on it in her room that night. It had been filled with a lot of hugging and a lot of tears, followed immediately by a long discussion.
Jessica had finally been able to sit down with her family and talk about all the things that had been bothering her. Everyone got into the discussion, and at the end, the relationship between Jessica and her family was stronger than it had ever been.
"Let's all promise one thing," Ned Wakefield had concluded. "No matter what we're doing, no matter what any of us is involved in, I think it's fair to say that none of it could be as important as this family is to all of us. I think we can all agree to keep that in mind."
Everyone did.
Now there was only one thing left on Jessica's mind, and she sat down to take care of it. She pulled out a sheet of stationery and a pen, and after a few moments of thought she began writing:
Dear Nicky,
As you have probably guessed by now, I'm not joining you in San Francisco. I can't. I'm sorry for what happened between you and your family, and I wish I could help you to make things better, but I think, for me, running away is not the answer. I hope you won't hate me for not coming. I'm sure you understand. You're a good person, Nicky. A really good person. I hope you'll always keep that in mind. Please write me and let me know how you're doing. I really hope everything works out for you.
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