Part 23 (1/2)

She sighed but kept me in her grasp for a while longer. Just when I thought she had no more to say, she reminded me of the man who, for better or worse, had come to represent Seattle to me. ”I liked you two together.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to tease out a plat.i.tude or a wise, accepting response. It was no use.

”I did, too,” I said.

31.

ZARA sat next to me on the couch, tulle skirts gathering in exuberant sprays around her k.n.o.bby knees. She held my face with care, her blue eyes roaming slowly across my forehead, down my cheeks, and around my mouth.

”I'm taking a picture in my brain since I won't see you in Seattle forever after.”

My spirit continued its downward spiral. I was becoming accustomed to its weight after the last few days of packing and planning. The movers were on schedule to arrive the following day, and I had stopped by the Henricks for a final goodbye before flying to JFK the next morning.

I put my arm around her tiny shoulders. ”Not forever. I'll be back.”

”But not in time for my dance recital. And you won't be at our house for Thanksgiving. I heard Mommy and Daddy talking about it and Daddy said he was depressed because you make good pies, but Mommy's pies are healthy.”

I winced. Dane clambered up to sit on my other side. He shoved his pudgy fist in front of my face, too close for me to recognize the small vehicle it held. He named it for me and I gasped.

He said it again.

”Dumb what?” I said. I knew Jack had his flaws, but I couldn't imagine he'd taught his young son one of the most deplorable words in the English language.

Zara looked at my uncomprehending face and stepped effortlessly into her role as older sister interpreter. ”Dump truck. It's his favorite.”

As if to prove her point, Dane began to chant the name of his favorite construction vehicle, which also, conveniently, could serve as a devastating insult if the need arose later on in his life.

His foul language reminded me of New York, and I slumped my shoulders again, fussing with the wrapping on the package in front of me.

”Is that your lunch for the airplane?” Zara asked.

I stared at the package so long, I jumped when Zara nudged me and asked her question again.

”No,” I said. ”It's a gift for someone.”

Manda came around the corner holding Polly, who was naked but for a fresh diaper. Manda had called her most recent explosion a ”ten-wipe blow-out.” I had begged off tagging along for the wardrobe change.

”Char, you have to do it.” Manda's voice was kind but firm. ”If you don't, you'll always feel like you should have. Don't add regret to a cross-country move.”

”You're right.” I stood, resolved. ”I've sat here long enough. You're sure he isn't home?”

Manda c.o.c.ked her head at me, eyebrows raised. ”I believe you've asked me to clarify that eighteen times since you got here an hour ago.”

I sucked air into my teeth. ”So he could have come back within the last hour.”

Manda shoved me from behind. ”Help me out, kids,” she said to Zara and Dane. ”Auntie Charlie needs a gentle push out to the porch.”

Jack met us on the front walk, where he was gathering leaves into a pile. ”Go get 'em, Char.” He punched me lightly on the arm. ”We'll all watch to make sure you don't run and that you feel as uncomfortable as possible during your private moment.” He grinned at my scowl.

I walked up the sidewalk as quickly as I could, newly worried that Kai might return home at any second. Taking the front steps two at a time, I crossed the wood slats of the porch floor, stepping around a group of irregular white and blue-black pumpkins flanking either side of the door. I paused, looking over to the Henricks for moral support. Manda and Jack gave me thumbs-up, while Zara called, ”Give Mr. Malloy the cupcakes, Aunt Charlie! He loves bacon cupcakes! They were the grand prize winners at my party!”

I nodded, ignoring the jab. ”Okay,” I said quietly, positioning the short but no-less-agonized-over note I'd written on top of the cupcakes. ”This is it then.” I was crouched, staring at the cupcakes, my hands hovering over the package.

”Wait.” The sound of my voice bounced off the bare wood floor. ”What am I doing?” I was muttering, hands still on the package. ”I'm a fool. This is crazy. I can't do this.” I stood up abruptly and saw spots dancing between me and the Henricks. Running down the steps, I shouted to Manda and Jack.

”Where is he?”

Manda looked at me like I was nuts. ”Charlie, I told you. He's not here. Just leave the cupcakes-”

I shook my head, impatient for her to understand. ”I need to find him. Right now. I leave tomorrow morning and I've been an idiot and I have to find him. Now.”

I saw the light dawn in Manda's eyes. She smiled.

”Oooh,” Zara said. She shook her finger at me. ”Auntie Charlie said 'idiot.' That's an automatic time-out.”

”Sometimes the shoe fits, honey,” Manda said distractedly. She called to her husband. ”Honey, did Kai tell you where he was off to this morning?”

Jack paused, two gloved hands on the top of his rake. I gave him four full seconds before hollering.

”A little faster, Jack! This is an emergency!”

He twisted his mouth to one side. ”I don't think he said where he was going.” He squinted, frowned. ”I just remember him saying some lame joke about jumping off a cliff. I told him suicide was never a laughing matter-”

”Jumping off ... a cliff! I know where he is!” I ran toward the Henricks' minivan, which was parked along the curb. I pulled on the sliding door handle and groaned to find it locked. My body twisted with one hand still on the car. I looked back toward the house. No one had moved.

”I have to find him,” I said, feeling more sure of those words than anything I'd felt in months. ”And I need you to help me. I don't know how to get anywhere in this city.”

Manda frowned. ”Now, that is just sad, Charlie.”

”It's true!” I was starting to shriek. ”Everybody in the van! Auntie Charlie needs help on a treasure hunt or Auntie Charlie is going to have a nervous breakdown.”

”Awesome,” Jack called. He jogged to the driver's side door, his entourage hot on his trail. ”This is like geo-caching only more urgent. I love it.”

I nearly had to breathe in a paper bag while waiting for Manda and Jack to buckle three car seats, particularly when Dane began weeping inconsolably about something involving his tennis shoes (a hateful choice, apparently) and his snow boots (too small, but eventually retrieved from his closet so we could leave in peace).

After an intense debate between Jack and Manda, they decided on the general location of the cliff where Kai and I had accidentally fallen asleep all those months ago. Once he had his coordinates, Jack raced into every busy intersection as if he were in a high-speed chase, tires squealing and kids giggling with delight. Manda clamped white knuckles on her armrests and occasionally exclaimed in disbelief.

”You didn't speed like this when I was in labor!”

”Just close your eyes, Manda!”

As we rounded a corner, the kids squealed and Manda turned to the backseat. ”Kids, stop encouraging your father!”

Jack pushed even harder on the gas pedal when she added, ”You are not a stunt driver and never will be!”

We drove more slowly once we reached the neighborhood where Manda and Jack suspected Kai and I had walked. When we pa.s.sed a dilapidated wire fence with a narrow path beyond, I yelled for Jack to stop. The brake action was so swift and severe, I tumbled between the front two seats.