Emily, Gone

by Bette Lee Crosby

  “I saw a sign saying there’s an exit coming up in one mile, but I didn’t catch where that road goes.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Angela replied nervously. She eased off the highway onto what was a narrow two-lane road. With no signposts she had only two choices: go straight or turn right. She hesitated a few seconds, then turned onto Yellowwood Road.

  They’d gone less than a mile when the car slowed to a crawl, and as Angela pulled onto the shoulder it stopped altogether. She sat for a few moments calming herself, then tried shifting into neutral to restart the engine. The stick shift wouldn’t budge. Three times she tried, and each time the only result was an angry grinding sound.

  The road was barren other than scattered patches of wildflowers growing by the wayside and, in the distance, what appeared to be a small farmhouse.

  Angela pressed her back against the seat and groaned. “Damn. It won’t go into gear.”

  “What now?” Lara asked.

  “We’ll have to call somebody and have it towed to a garage.”

  “Call how?”

  Angela pointed to the farmhouse in the distance. “That looks like our best bet. You stay with the car. I’ll go ask if I can use their phone and try to find out where we are.”

  “Un-uh, I’m not staying here alone. I’m coming with you.”

  “It’s pretty hot out; are you sure you want to?” Angela asked.

  By then Lara was already out of the car. “I’m sure.”

  Angela locked the car, and the two of them started out on foot. It was one thirty then, and the sun was directly overhead. Before ten minutes had passed they were both drenched in perspiration. Looking from a distance, the house had appeared to be a half mile away or less, but halfway there she realized it was well over a mile, possibly even two. By the time they turned up the long driveway, Angela was praying there’d be somebody at home.

  When she stepped onto the porch, she saw the open window and heard the hum of a fan coming from inside.

  “We’re in luck,” she whispered, then rapped on the door.

  She waited for several minutes, and as she raised her hand to knock again, the door swung open. An old woman with silver-white hair and thick eyeglasses gave a cautious smile.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Angela said. “Our car broke down, and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call for a tow truck.”

  The woman peered around Angela and eyed Lara. “Is it just the two of you?”

  “Yes. Lara’s my daughter. We were on our way—”

  The woman pushed the door back. “Well then, come on in. I’ll get you the number for Ernie. The thing is, it’s Sunday. I doubt he’ll send the truck out on Sunday.”

  “Maybe if I paid extra?”

  “I don’t think so,” the woman said. “He’ll send the taxi and take you into Hesterville. Then come get your car tomorrow.”

  Angela breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be okay. Is Hesterville nearby?”

  “Seven or eight miles.” The woman fished through a basket sitting alongside the phone and pulled out a dingy-looking gray card. “Here it is,” she said and handed Angela the card that read ERNIE’S TAXI & TOW. Below the address was a phone number.

  Angela dialed the number.

  “Ernie,” he answered.

  “Good afternoon,” she said. “This is Angela McAlister, and it seems my car has broken down. I’m stranded out here on—” She turned back to the woman and asked, “Where exactly is this?”

  “Yellowwood Road, out by Baker’s Field. Ernie knows.”

  She repeated what the woman had said.

  “Yeah, I know where that is. So are you calling for a mechanic or taxi?”

  “Actually, I could use both,” Angela replied. “I think the car might have to be towed, because the gearshift won’t budge. When I try, it makes a terrible grinding noise.”

  “Sounds like it could be the transmission. I can send a taxi but can’t get a tow truck out there till tomorrow.”

  Angela told him a taxi would be just fine and hung up the receiver. As she and Lara started toward the road, the woman stood in the doorway and waved goodbye. “Good luck with your car,” she called, then disappeared back inside.

  The walk back to the car was long and hot. Once they got there, Angela pulled out a suitcase of things they might need for a day or two. She knew for certain they’d be in Hesterville for one night, and it could end up being two or three. Hopefully there was a nice hotel where they could take a cool shower and have a leisurely dinner. After a day such as this one, they both needed it. She also had to call Kenny and give him the bad news.

  As it turned out, there was no hotel in Hesterville. According to Ernie, there were two bed-and-breakfast places, a small inn that offered long-term rentals, and a Dozy Days Motel over in Weston. Hoping that she could have the car repaired and be on her way tomorrow, Angela asked which was closer to the garage.

  “Probably the Homestead on Pecan Street,” he said, “but if Rachel hasn’t got a room available, Marilyn Byrd’s place is just a few blocks farther.”

  When they arrived back at Ernie’s garage, he called Rachel Dixon and asked if she had room for a guest.

  “Someone you know?” Rachel asked.

  “Uh-uh, a woman and her daughter from Kentucky. Their car broke down out on Yellowwood Road. I can’t bring the car in until tomorrow, so they need a place to stay.”

  Rachel hesitated for a moment. She’d made it a policy to accept only guests who were referrals, people who had been checked out and worthy of trust, but something about a mother and daughter in need tugged at her heart.

  What if it were Hope and me?

  “Sure, I can take them,” she said. “When will they be arriving?”

  “They’re here now. I’ll drop them by your place.”

  Suddenly Rachel wished George hadn’t taken the kids and gone off to a baseball game. She also wished she had asked Ernie if they at least appeared to be trustworthy people.

  THE NEW GUESTS

  When Ernie’s taxi pulled up in front of the house, Rachel peered from behind the curtains to get a glimpse of the new guests. The mother was first up the walkway, her shoulders stooped and her expression weary. The daughter followed behind looking no less bedraggled. Rachel opened the door and moved out onto the porch to greet them.

  “Welcome to the Dixon Homestead,” she said and stepped down onto the walkway. “I’m Rachel.”

  Tired as she was, Angela forced a smile. “Thank you so much for accommodating us on such short notice.” She introduced herself and then Lara.

  “Here, let me help with that.” Rachel reached out and took hold of the suitcase. “Ernie told me your car broke down, so I know you must be feeling exhausted. Would you rather freshen up or have a cool drink?”

  Before her mom could answer, Lara said, “I want to take a shower. I’ve got to get out of these jeans before I roast to death!”

  Angela gave a doleful nod. “I’m afraid the same is true for me. Walking such a distance in this Georgia sun was brutal.”

  “I’m sure.” Rachel led them through the living room and up the stairs. “We have two guest rooms.” She pushed open the first door, placed the suitcase inside, then continued along the hall. “Here’s the bath. And this is the smaller room. We don’t have any other guests right now, so you’re welcome to use them both.”

  Before she’d finished explaining where everything was, Lara had kicked off her sandals and was shimmying out of her jeans.

  “I’ll see you downstairs whenever you’re ready,” Rachel said and ducked out the door. As she started down the stairs, she let go of a lingering sigh. For the first time in almost a decade she’d looked into the face of a girl and, for an instant, imagined her to be Emily. “How foolish is that . . . ,” she muttered and shook her head.

  When Angela came down, Rachel had a pitcher of sweet tea and a platter of pimento cheese sandwiches waiting.

  “I thought maybe you’d
enjoy a light snack. We can sit on the back patio where it’s shady and there’s a nice breeze.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  Angela followed her through the kitchen and out onto a patio edged with petunias in every shade of pink and purple. As they settled into the wicker chairs, she spoke of how lovely the house was and how delighted they were to be there.

  “Lara will be down shortly,” she said. “She’s redoing her nails.”

  “Girls will be girls,” Rachel replied. “I know, because I have one of my own. She’s fourteen going on forty.”

  “Lara’s eighteen. This fall she’ll be going off to the University of Florida, and I’ll miss her terribly.”

  Eighteen, Rachel thought, the same as Emily. She wanted to say, I also have a daughter who is eighteen, and perhaps as beautiful as your Lara, but of course she didn’t. She’d learned long ago that to speak of a child who was missing only invited questions and, following the questions, a look of pity.

  Instead she gave a lighthearted laugh. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “There are times when they drive you crazy and you can’t wait for them to be gone, and other times when the thought of it breaks your heart.”

  Angela nodded. “Isn’t that the truth. Do you have just the one girl?”

  Rachel hesitated a moment as the image of Emily flashed through her mind. For a brief second she thought of mentioning their other daughter, the one who was the same age as Lara, but she didn’t. “Yes,” she finally said. “Just one girl, but Hope has a twin brother, Henry. They’re going into their freshman year of high school, so we have a few more years before we have to deal with the inevitability of losing them to college.”

  They spoke for a long while. Angela told of Kenny’s relocation and how it saddened her to leave their friends behind.

  “At first Lara was devastated by the thought of moving away, but since she’ll be attending college in Florida anyway, she’s come around a bit. You know how it is with kids; they’re up one minute and down the next.”

  Both women laughed.

  “The Richmond Braves farm team is playing an exhibition game today,” Rachel explained, “and George took the kids to see it, but they should be home soon and for certain they’ll be hungry. We’d love to have you and Lara join us for supper. It’s just a buffet of cold chicken and potato salad, but there’s plenty to go around.”

  “We don’t want to impose; you’ve already been so gracious—”

  “It’s not an imposition; we’d love having you.”

  A short while later Henry came bursting onto the patio, followed by Hope.

  “Guess what, Mom? I caught a fly ball!” He held out the signed baseball for Rachel to see. “It was awesome. Nick Middleton hits this pop-up, and I see it coming, so I jump up and pow, the ball lands smack in the middle of my mitt.”

  Hope grinned. “Then after the game Dad got Nick Middleton to sign the ball.”

  Rachel smiled. “It sounds very exciting, but before you two get carried away, don’t you think you should take a moment to say hi to our guest?”

  “Sorry,” Henry said sheepishly.

  Just then George came out, and introductions were made all around. Afterward Rachel told the twins to get cleaned up for dinner.

  “Hope, when you’re ready to come down, knock on the small guest-room door and ask Mrs. McAlister’s daughter, Lara, if she’d like to join us.”

  “Okay, Mom,” she said as she disappeared back into the house.

  By the time they returned to the patio, it was obvious that Hope was enthralled with their new guest. She trailed after Lara, admiring the color of her toenails, the songs on her Walkman, and the thought of going off to college.

  “That freedom must be awesome,” she said.

  “It is and it isn’t,” Lara replied. “I’m sad to be leaving my friends behind.”

  “But what an adventure! We’ve lived in Hesterville forever, and I’d be thrilled to be heading off to a college near the beach!”

  “Actually, the university is in Gainesville. It’s a city and nowhere near the beach.”

  “But still . . .”

  When they gathered at the supper table the three young people sat together, Lara sandwiched in between Hope and Henry. It wasn’t until Rachel had the food on the table and was sitting directly across from them that she noticed the uncanny resemblance between Henry and Lara.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Looking at them individually, apart from one another, the resemblance hadn’t seemed so striking, but side by side as they were, they had the look of family. She gave a nervous little laugh. “Good gracious, look at the two of you! If not for the difference in ages, you could be twins.”

  Hope grinned. “Lara and I look like twins?”

  “No,” Rachel said, her eyes still on Lara. “But she certainly does look like your brother.”

  They moved on to talking about Angela’s experience out on Yellowwood Road and the unbelievable heat wave that Georgia was experiencing.

  “It’s been this way for a week,” Rachel said, “and the weatherman claims there’s no end in sight. This is the hottest summer I can remember; tomorrow it’s supposed to hit a hundred.”

  “Oh dear.” Angela gave a worrisome sigh. “I do hope the heat won’t stop Mr. Maxwell from getting a tow truck out to Yellowwood Road.”

  “It won’t,” George assured her. “Ernie is slow as molasses, but he’s dependable. If he said he’ll have it towed tomorrow, he will. And he’s a very good mechanic. If you’d like, tomorrow morning before I open the store I can stop by the garage and give him a nudge.”

  “If it’s no trouble . . .” Angela told how Kenny had gone to Daytona in January, and she had stayed in Fairlawn so Lara could finish high school and graduate with her friends.

  “Kenny and I both agreed it was the right thing to do, but having the family separated has been difficult, so we’re anxious to get to Daytona.”

  “Mom’s more anxious than I am,” Lara said. “I’m hoping we’ll have time to visit the university in Gainesville.”

  She leaned over, whispered something in Hope’s ear, and they both giggled. Moments later Hope asked if they could be excused to go outside and play badminton.

  As Rachel watched the two girls prance off together, she felt her heart skip a beat. The old sadness came and went like a cloud passing overhead, and in that brief moment she wondered if this was how it would be if Emily were still with them.

  After the table was cleared George slipped away, saying he had paperwork that needed to be done. Angela then made her nightly call to Kenny. She told him that they’d had a spot of car trouble and stopped in Hesterville to have it checked out.

  “Hesterville?” he replied. “Isn’t that rather off the beaten path?”

  “A bit,” she said, “but we’re staying at a lovely bed-and-breakfast, so it’s worth driving a few extra miles.”

  She decided not to worry him with the extent of the car trouble, reasoning that for all she knew it could be something as simple as a blown fuse, and by tomorrow or the next day they’d be back on the road.

  Later on, as the sun drifted toward the edge of the horizon, the two women returned to the patio. They watched the sky change from the crimson of sunset to the purple of twilight and in time to the black of night, lit only by the bright moon, a scattering of stars overhead, and the glow of lamplight coming from George’s office.

  On that hot summer night, when the breeze carried the easy conversation of two mothers and the laughter of young people singing along with a Sony Walkman, it seemed as if all was perfect with the world.

  HOPE’S DISCOVERY

  Monday morning dawned with the heat more oppressive than ever. Before the breakfast dishes were cleared away the temperature had climbed to eighty-five degrees, and the NBC weatherman was forecasting it would top one hundred.

  “We’ve not seen a spell like this since 1923, but hang in there, folks, relief is on the way. There’s a c
old front coming down from Canada.” He pointed to a large green mass on the map. “By next weekend we’ll see rain, lots of it, and we’ll be experiencing a cooldown.”

  When the projected high for the day flashed on the screen, Hope came running into the kitchen. “Mom, can we go swimming?”

  “Yes, but ask Lara if she wants to go with you.”

  “Okay.”

  Hope darted from the room and was back minutes later. “Lara wants to go, and her mom said she could.”

  “Is Lara’s mom going?”

  “No. She said she needs to stay here to find out about the car.”

  At times Hope could stretch the truth a bit, so Rachel dried her hands and followed her back into the living room.

  “Angela, do you mind if Lara goes swimming with the twins?”

  “Not at all. It’ll be a nice day for them.”

  “It’s our local lake, but they’ve got two lifeguards on duty, and they keep a close eye on the kids, so there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll drop them off and pick them up later.”

  Hope’s cheers were followed by a frenzied hour of lunch packing, swimsuit finding, sunscreen slathering, and a stern warning to listen to the lifeguards.

  On the drive to the lake, Rachel listened to the kids chattering on about how they would swim to the raft, play water polo, and any number of other things. When she stopped at the pathway that led to the beach, everyone scampered out. As she watched them walk away there was a split second when the girls turned back and waved—that was when she saw it. Hope’s eyes were darker, but they had the same nose, the same smile, the same curve of their cheek.

  Rachel again felt her heart skip a beat. “Impossible,” she murmured and bit down on her lip. These things were similarities, nothing more.

  After they’d disappeared from view, she sat with her gaze fixed on the pathway where they’d been, still seeing the image she’d seen moments earlier. She didn’t turn the key in her ignition until another car pulled up behind her and beeped the horn.