“Why?” Luke asks as we pull out of the lot.
“It’ll die down by next year,” I report. “Jamie’s going to be back to normal by then. Mostly.”
I sigh the heavy sigh of knowing what’s to come.
“It’s nice out,” Luke says, changing the subject. “Would a picnic make you feel better?”
“Yes,” I say, imagining lying in the grass, staring at him all lunch period. “Yes, I think it would.”
“Want to ask Jamie to come with us?” Luke offers.
“You’re so sweet,” I say. “That’s a great idea.” I pull out my phone and text the invitation; Jamie immediately writes back. Progress.
Home for lunch; forgot a book. Thanks though. Really. It means a lot.
I smile and text back. Anytime, J.
“Is she coming?” Luke asks.
“Nope, it’s just us.”
Ten minutes later, I’m waiting for Luke in his minivan in the grocery store parking lot while he buys food.
I wish he’d hurry up.
The springtime sun beats down on me through the windshield, and the heat and the stillness slow my breathing, relax my muscles, and muddy my focus. I’m in a daze as I watch a young mother carry her baby inside the store and come out a few minutes later with a box of diapers. A tall man and a short woman rush through the automatic doors, the man checking his watch as he walks. Two children, seemingly without supervision, run through the parking lot and into the store. I wonder where their mother is as I roll my heavy head to the left.
A face in the van window yanks me back to reality.
In a minute, I will realize that the woman is probably the mother of the two rambunctious boys I’ve just seen. In a minute, I’ll note that her van in the next space over nearly matches Luke’s, and that she was “just checking out the newer model,” as she’ll shout to me as a means of explanation. In a minute, my pulse will edge back down to resting.
But right now, I am rigid. I am terrified of the woman’s big face, flanked by hands cupped so she can see inside the tinted windows. Right now, I am irrationally locking the doors and scooting my body away so that the stranger won’t get me.
Stranger?
Get me?
Even as I think it, I know it’s crazy.
But then something falls into place.
I see myself as a little girl. My dad is across the lot, pulling a cart from the return. I’m in the backseat. A toddler is strapped in across from me. It’s my brother, Jonas. I’m playing peekaboo with him. He’s giggling.
A woman knocks on the window on my side. She seems friendly. She has a nice smile. “I’m a friend of your mommy’s,” I hear her say through the glass. “Open the door so I can say hi,” she says sweetly. “You can see my puppy,” she says, holding open a big bag with a tiny dog inside.
I love dogs, especially tiny ones.
>After school, I ask Luke to drive me to an address from this morning’s note.
“Again?” he asks.
“Guess so.” I shrug.
Luke drives but doesn’t seem happy about it. When we arrive, he pulls into a space down the block and points to the house in question. In minutes, a white car zips into the driveway. Carley Lynch gets out.
“What are you looking for this time?” Luke asks.
I squint to be sure, and then I answer.