One Moment at a Time

by Thomas, K. S.

  “Kentucky, USA.” I stab at a big chunk of chicken with my chopsticks. I’m suddenly ravenous, now that I’ve had time to think about it.

  “Waiting for a connecting flight home?” I can’t tell if he’s hopeful or hesitant to hear I failed.

  “Having a quick bite before I rent a car and drive to my next destination,” I fill him in just before I shove the chicken in my mouth. Will’s thoughts on this newest turn in the story should give me plenty of time to chew and swallow. Maybe even have a follow up bite.

  “Jesus, Ben. How much more are you going to invest in chasing this ghost of a girl. For all you know, she doesn’t even want to be found anymore,” he pauses, but I know there’s more to come. “She could be married and have a bunch of babies by now. Or maybe she went the other way after waiting on your ass and became a nun who spends her days locked away in some convent. Who knows?! But given we’re living in time of internet and cellphones making communication, or rather the lack of communication, a virtual impossibility, don’t you think it’s a little strange that no one you’ve crossed paths with since you started this knows how to get in touch with her?”

  I swallow the chicken and set down my chopsticks. I’m losing my appetite just as fast as I found it. “What are you getting at? You think this is all some hoax? Some prank she’s pulling on me that she just happened to convince a bunch of other people to go along with?”

  Silence on the other end of the line. Never a good sign.

  “Will?”

  “Look, Hanna’s been searching the internet for days. You’ve literally been going around the world to find her and yet, both of you are coming up empty,” he pauses. “Ben, I hate to have to be the one to say this, but have you considered the possibility...that maybe...you’re chasing a literal ghost?”

  I push my open food container away. “No.” I sit up straighter. “You don’t know Ky. I don’t care how advanced technology gets, that girl will always know how to disappear. The only tie she’s had her whole life, was her grandmother, and she died when Ky was seventeen. She’s been on her own ever since. She doesn’t check in. She doesn’t keep in touch. She’s never learned how to. She just pops in and pops back out whenever she pleases. She has no expectations of anyone because no one’s ever met any. Which is why I’m going to see this through. To set an expectation she can count on. For me to show up. For me to find her. For me to care enough to track her all around the world if I have to. Because I’m the tie she has now. She just needs me to prove it to her.” I take a deep breath and hold it, squeezing my eyes shut as I do just to block out the thoughts Will has forced me to have. Thoughts I’ve denied entry to my mind since before I started this. Thoughts that I was scared to face. But I’m not now. “She’s not dead, Will. She’s not. I would know. I would feel it if she wasn’t still out there somewhere.” I’m sure of it. After everything I’ve learned about myself and her and us these past days, I’m more convinced than ever that the connection I’ve felt to her since I first saw her goes both ways. Always has. Always will.

  But just the same, I’m ready to get a car and get on the road now. It’s been long enough. Time to find a way to see her face to face. Touch her. Breathe her in. And the only way I’m getting there is through the only other man she ever loved, and who probably deserved her even less than I do.

  Her father.

  chapter

  seventeen

  BEN

  The drive to his house is short. It’s only when I’m pulling up in his driveway, noticing the lights inside the windows and the dark that’s fallen all around, that I connect with time again and realize, it’s late. Too late, maybe.

  It’s just after nine. Not exactly proper calling time when showing up to a stranger’s house. Then I remember - I don’t care what he thinks of me. He’s a jackass who can’t remember what day his own daughter was born.

  So, I get out of the car and walk up to the front door.

  I take a moment to collect my thoughts, then conclude they’re too scrambled at this point to succeed in such efforts, and so I proceed, prepared to wing it.

  What I’m not prepared for, is the face that greets me when the door swings open.

  It’s Ky’s.

  Only it’s not.

  This woman is younger, and her hair is darker. But everything else...is damn near identical.

  She’s even got the same exact eyes.

  Same vibrant blue color.

  Same round shape.

  And yet, they’re missing everything that make Ky’s eyes so damn breathtaking.

  Ky’s eyes speak to you. Tell you stories. Some happy and exciting, some sad or serious. Some are terrifying, the sort that haunt you, keep you up at night, and stay with you long after she’s gone again.

  Ky’s eyes have entire worlds swirling within them. These eyes...are empty.

  “Can I help you?”

  I clear my throat, trying to shake the strange feeling of familiar but not that I’m having with this girl. “I’m looking for Ky.” I bite my lip, temporarily practicing restraint. Then, I give it up. “Your sister. Has she been here recently?”

  She looks taken aback. “Are you a friend of hers?”

  “Yeah.” It’s the short answer. Even if it hardly feels honest anymore.

  Before she can say anything else, a man shows up behind her. “What’s going on out here?” He takes one look at me and steps past her, putting himself between us. For a man who never showed much in the way of a paternal instinct with his first daughter, I have to give him credit for at least developing some protective impulses where his second child is concerned.

  “Who are you?” he demands, voice instantly dropping an octave lower.

  “My name is Ben Prescott. I’m looking for your daughter, Kylie. I have reason to believe she left a message for me with you.” No need to beat around the bush here. I doubt either of us has an interest in prolonging contact with one another beyond what is absolutely necessary.

  “I don’t know what would give you reasons to believe something like that,” he says gruffly. “I can assure you, I am no one’s messenger.” He moves to close the door. “Now if you don’t mind, it’s late.”

  I take a step closer before he can shut me out. “Actually, I do mind.”

  He looks surprised to see me stop him. I don’t imagine he encounters a lot of people who stand up to him. He’s tall and broad and carries himself with enough arrogance to make you want to run the other way.

  “I don’t know who you think you are,” he starts, “but you may want to think long and hard before you take any sort of stand against me again, son.”

  I do my best to keep my expression neutral. Ky used to taunt me all the time, telling me how my face gave away every thought I had. I’m pretty sure she’s the only one who’s ever been able to read my mind by watching my face, but just the same, I’d rather this man not know every thought I’m having about him at the present. “Sir, I’ve traveled internationally to come here tonight. I realize it’s late, and I understand that I’m a stranger,” I explain calmly. “But your daughter means a great deal to me and you’re the last clue I have to finding her. So, if you have any information about her whereabouts at all, I would really appreciate it if you shared that with me.” I take a step back again, an offer of good faith in our exchange. “I don’t want to take up any more of your evening than necessary.”

  For a moment, I think he’ll take the opportunity I’ve offered and slam the door shut in my face after all. Then, he seems to reconsider. He still closes the door, but instead, he steps out in front of it, shutting us both out and his younger daughter in. I assume what he’s about to share, isn’t meant for her ears.

  “What is this really about?” he asks, voice lowered as he leads the way down the walkway and away from the front door. “Why do you need to find her? Was she pregnant? Is that how you got tangled up with her?”

  I frown. Didn’t see that one coming. “No, she’s not pregnant. And I’m not tangle
d up with her. I’m in love with her. That’s why I need to find her.”

  He stops walking to look at me. Confusion and pity mingle in his eyes. “You don’t want to go running after a girl like, Ky. Trust me. I’ve been there. I know.” He shakes his head and starts wandering again, turning at the driveway, and making his way over to the garage.

  “With all due respect, sir, I really think that’s for me to decide,” I force out through gritted teeth. The man has answers I need, I’m not blowing my chance at getting them by flying off the handle. Even if he is saying the sort of offensive bullshit that makes me want to punch things.

  “With all due respect, kid, I fell for her mother once. I’m the voice of experience here. You should take the advice I’m offering and run. Break free while you can. Because that free spirit shit they live and breathe gets old real fast when you try to build a life of substance. Look at me, I took her for her carefree word and what did I get? A lifelong commitment I never asked for. Worse, one which refused to conform to any sort of normal life. Even as a child, she was rebellious and unruly.”

  “Is that why you left her? Because she was too rebellious at five? Too unruly? Too difficult for you to muster even an ounce of compassion for given she’d only just lost her mother, her home, her language and the only life she’d ever known prior to being dumped in your lap, a virtual stranger to her.” Maybe I can’t contain these emotions after all. Maybe I’ll need to pick another letter I found on the bookshelf. Try another path to get to her.

  He scoffs. “Those are your emotions talking. Try your head. You’ll see what I’m telling you makes sense.” He turns back toward his house. It’s huge, the biggest on the block, a detail I found impossible to miss while driving over. The man’s obviously done well for himself, at least where his finances are concerned. “Look at the life I’ve built for myself. I own a successful company. I drive a brand-new Corvette to work every day and a classic ‘Vette on the weekends. My wife enjoys every luxury she cares to while my daughter has had access to the best of everything, from her clothes to her education. You think I would have any of this if I’d allowed myself to be derailed along the way?” He shakes his head. “No. I wouldn’t. And you won’t either. You seem like a good kid. I can tell by looking at you, you’ve got sense. Your parents raised you to make the right choices, follow a solid plan. Don’t let my summer fling be your undoing. I certainly didn’t. And look at me now. I have it all.”

  I feel sick. Not just because every word he’s said makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn, but because I can suddenly see so clearly the life Ky’s been trying to save me from. This is what it looks like. A big house. Perfect family. Fancy car.

  “You’re wrong.” I look him square in the eyes. “You don’t have Ky. You have nothing.” Then I spin on my heel and walk away, unable to stomach any more of his bullshit.

  I’m almost to my car when I hear footsteps following me and think this idiot may be dumb enough to follow me.

  I turn around, ready to cut him off before he jumps into another rant about how useless his daughter is, a woman I think may very well be the most amazing human being on the face of the earth, certainly leaps and bounds beyond his human capabilities, and without doubt the best thing he’ll ever do with his sorry life.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Stumped, I stumble backwards at the sight of Ky’s sister.

  “I look like her,” she says quietly. “That’s why you looked so surprised when I opened the door.”

  “You do,” I admit, though I keep to myself the ways in which they’re different.

  She shifts her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. “It’s been a while since she’s come through here,” she says. “Tell you the truth, I got the feeling it was the last time she’d visit.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “This fell out of her bag as she was leaving.” She holds an envelope out toward me, and I recognize it instantly. The birthday card. The one from her dad’s secretary. “I tried to give it back to her, but she just smiled and said she didn’t need it anymore.”

  “You saved it.” It seems an odd thing to do.

  “I did.” She nods, taking a step closer. “She told me to. Said one day you’d show up for it. And to give it to you when you did.” She hands the envelope to me and I take it.

  My hand is shaking. It hasn’t done that with a single other letter I’ve received from her since the very first one that started this crazy treasure hunt. Maybe because I’ve seen this one before. Maybe because it was such a part of seeing Ky for so long. Maybe it’s just surreal to see it here now. Without her.

  “For what it’s worth,” her sister adds, slowly backing up along the walkway toward her house. “I love my sister. If we ever have the chance, I’d like to think our relationship would be very different than it is now.”

  I break my gaze away from the envelope in my hands to meet hers. “You don’t get chances. You choose them. Ky taught me that.”

  She smiles meekly and I know her father didn’t raise her to be as strong as he forced Ky to be by never raising her at all. And suddenly, just like that, I see the favor he did her.

  I watch until she’s back inside and then I get in my rental car and start it up. As anxious as I am to see if Ky left me anything more than this old birthday card inside that envelope, I can’t open it here. Not in front of her father’s house.

  Her words are sacred. And this place is soiled.

  It takes seven minutes to reach the nearest gas station and pull in. It’s not exactly a ceremonial setting either, but at least her father’s words aren’t hanging in the air here.

  Careful not to rip the frayed paper, I peel back the flap of the envelope and reach inside.

  A dried rose.

  A note.

  And the old birthday card.

  All three slide out into the palm of my hand at once. And all at once, I can’t breathe.

  Ben.

  You can burn it now.

  Love, Ky

  P.S. ~ I’ve never thought home was a place. It’s a person. Georgia never had a hold on me. My grandmother was always the launching pad thrusting me back out into the world. She wasn’t the anchor that drew me back. You were. I went back for you. And I’ll stay for you. With you. All you have to do is ask.

  I DROP MY HEAD BACK and exhale loudly. All I have to fucking do is ask. She makes it sound so simple. I want to ask. God, that’s all I’ve wanted to do since I bought that damn ring all those years ago. Ask her to stay. Ask her to be with me. But I can’t ask her anything, if I can’t fucking find her.

  I take a sobering breath and regroup. Then, I reread the letter. There’s another clue in here. She wouldn’t tell me she was ready, that she believed I was ready, and not tell me how to ask the damn question we’ve both been wanting me to ask.

  Georgia.

  Her grandmother.

  I close my eyes and let my mind wander around those words. Slowly, thoughts begin to form, blending into memories yet again.

  “Is there a reason I’ve been summoned here at the crack of dawn to bring you coffee when we both know you own a damn coffee maker and keep an extra stash of backup beans in your freezer at all times?” I grumble walking into her apartment. The door’s been left wide open, as usual. I used to complain about it, try to reason with her about safety issues and such, but there’s no reasoning with a crazy person.

  “My power is off,” she calls back from another room. “Can’t use the coffee maker without power.”

  “Why is your power off?” As I’m asking, I start to register my surroundings. Boxes. Everywhere. Not uncommon wherever Ky lives. She never unpacks. But, usually, the boxes littering her space are open and lived out of. These, I notice, are all taped shut.

  “Probably because I didn’t pay the bill,” she announces, walking into the living room with another box held to her chest. She drops it to the floor when she reaches the center of the room.

  “Gimme!” Her greedy little fingers are da
ncing in the air, gesturing for me to fill them with the large coffee cup I brought for her.

  I place the paper cup in her hands and take a step back. It’s a protective instinct. Or maybe it’s my inner two-year-old having a tantrum. She’s leaving again. And it feels like leaving me. So, I respond by leaving her. Even if it’s just one measly little step back. It’s distance and I put it between us first.

  “If you needed money, you could have asked,” I tell her, eyes darting around her apartment, unable to land on anything for any length of time that doesn’t hammer home the point she’s about to disappear again.

  “I don’t need money.” She laughs. “I’m going to pay the bill, Ben. I just figured I’d wait and see how long they let it go before they turned it off.” She shrugs. “Seemed like a good way to set the next departure date.”

  “Of course.” I shake my head and give up on taking in the room. Instead, I stare at my feet. The ones I should move and get the fuck out of here, so I don’t have to watch this shit show unfold. But I don’t. Because I can’t. Leaving is what Ky does. Watching her walk out, that’s what I do. “Any idea where you’re headed next?”

  “Why? You wanna come?” When I look up, her blue eyes are bursting with every thought she’s not saying, daring me to take the bait just this once and jump on the crazy train with her, wherever the hell it will lead.

  “I have a real job now, Ky. Responsibilities,” I remind her. “If my father is ever going to take me seriously, I can’t just take off two seconds in.”

  She nods. “That’s true. If you want him to take you seriously, you definitely can’t do that.”

  I frown. I’m sure there was mockery in there. “I’m not just working for him, you know. I have my own ideas, my own vision for what I could do with the company if he trusts me enough to give it to me someday.”

  “That’s great.” She smiles, but it’s the least smile-like thing I’ve ever seen her mouth do. “Well, I hope I get to see this grand vision unfold someday.”