“Don’t worry.” Diana cannot tear her eyes away from her new, improved living room. “And thank you. Seriously. I cannot believe how perfect the rug is and how you’ve transformed the living room. Our Realtor will be amazed.”
“I’m so glad you like it,” Andi says, giving her a quick hug. “Let’s talk next week about the new house, okay?”
“Perfect.” Diana walks her to the front door.
* * *
On the drive home Andi rings the house to let Emily know she’s on the way. She has been clear to Emily: Cal needs to be home by four, and Andi will be back at four-fifteen to take over.
There’s no response at the house, which is odd. Andi rings Emily’s cell, listening to it ring. And ring. She tries repeatedly, punching out the number with more aggression each time, a sliver of fear wedging itself into her being and growing every time the phone is not answered.
Where are they? Why isn’t Emily picking up the phone? Images of car accidents fill her head. Cal falling off a high piece of equipment at the playground. A vicious pit bull escaping its chain link fence and savaging …
Stop!
She tells herself. But the fear is growing, and with it, her ghoulish fantasies.
Where are they?
She calls Ethan, praying he’s somewhere with service, practically crying with relief when he picks up.
“Don’t worry.” He is calm. “Emily’s probably upstairs with him and can’t hear the phone.”
“I’ve called the house phone and her cell. A million times. She’d hear one of them.”
“Maybe she left the phone in her purse, and they’re in the yard. Relax, Andi. There’s going to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. Stop thinking it’s the worst thing possible; you’ll just get yourself into a mess. Please, Andi. Everything’s going to be fine. Call me when you’re home, okay? And take some deep breaths.”
“Okay,” Andi says, but when she turns the corner and sees their house, there are no cars in the driveway. Emily and Cal are not home.
Where the hell are they?
She runs into the house, her heart pounding, feeling sick with fear. Grabbing the phone, she punches in Sophia’s number.
“Hey, Andi. What’s up?”
Andi forces her voice to sound normal. “Hi, Soph. I don’t know where Emily and Cal are. Do you know?”
There is a pause. “Emily said she couldn’t get him today,” Sophia says slowly. “She called to see if I could, but I had that huge test.”
“What?” roars Andi. “What do you mean she couldn’t get him?”
“She said she had to go meet Michael in the city to see an apartment.”
“Oh, my God,” Andi shrieks. “Where is he? Where is he? Where the hell is my baby?”
“Call the school,” Sophia has a calmness and maturity that, under different circumstances, would surprise them both. “Then call me back. I’m on my way home.”
* * *
As Sophia drives home, she is unaware that she is grinding her teeth and shaking her head. All she can think about is Emily, how she hasn’t changed, and how furious Sophia is with her right now.
Sophia loves her sister. Emily is, has always been, the one Sophia looks up to. Sophia may act like the older sister, the mature one, the one who knows what to do; but she has, nevertheless, always looked up to Emily, has spent her life longing for Emily to be the big sister she always hoped she would be.
Emily’s return was a dream come true. This time, Sophia thought she might stay. This time, Sophia thought they might truly be able to be a happy family, all together, after all. Instead of the constant screaming and backbiting, the flouncing around and slamming of doors that Sophia remembers from when Emily was last at home, there has been calm.
It helps that Emily is not living in the house, but Emily has been so different, so … happy.
But today, as Sophia grinds her teeth, thinking incessantly about her sister, she realizes that despite the outward appearances, despite the natural hair, and the hippie clothes, and the calm demeanor, Emily hasn’t changed a bit.
She is still the self-obsessed, irresponsible, immature girl she always was. And Sophia cannot believe she allowed herself to think that Emily had truly changed, cannot believe that she, Sophia, had been that dumb.
* * *
“Mrs. Gundell? I’m sorry, but she’s left for the day. Can I take a message?”
“No!” Andi shouts. “My son is missing! I have no idea who picked him up from school. I need to find him! I have to speak to her!” Her voice is rising to a scream.
“Don’t worry,” the school receptionist says calmly. “Let me check the dismissal notes for today.” There is a silence, Andi hearing only the rustling of papers.
“That’s odd. I don’t have anything,” the receptionist says. “Let me check again.”
“Please.” Andi is now crying. “Just give me her number.”
“Let me get Mrs. Gundell on the other line,” the receptionist says. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, Andi screeches to a stop outside the florist’s shop. Banging the door open, she runs in to find an empty store. There is tinny music coming from the back room. Panicking, she runs frantically through to where the music is coming from, to find, sitting on a high stool against a counter, his mouth smeared with chocolate, his fingers covered with green foam, Cal.
“Mommy!” He smiles when he sees her. “Look what I made! Train!”
“Oh, Cal.” Andi tries to smile as she scoops him up and squeezes him tight, but she bursts into tears.
“Why you crying, Mommy?” Cal examines her face as he pats her on the back to comfort her, in much the same way she does to him.
“Because I’m so happy I found you,” she says. “I was so scared. I didn’t know where you were.”
“I was not lost.” Cal frowns. “I was here.”
“I know.” She closes her eyes briefly. “I know. Let’s get you home.” She turns to see a dark-skinned man shuffling awkwardly.
“I sorry, Missus.”
Andi takes a deep breath. She is filled with a fury she has never known, but it is not against this man. It is not his fault.
“You’re Manuel?”
“Yes. I sorry, Missus. Emily phoned. I did not know what to do.”
“It’s okay. I just had no idea. Thank you for looking after him.”
“He is a good boy.” Manuel smiles and crouches to say good-bye to Cal.
“Up high.” Cal gives him a high five. “Down low. In the middle. Too slow!” Cal giggles as he pulls his hand away and looks delightedly up at his mother.
“Who taught you that?” she says.
“Manuel. Can we come again?”
“We’ll see,” she says, picking him up and walking out the door.
* * *
The fury does not abate. The longer she thinks about it, the stronger her rage. She does not let it out in front of Cal. At home, she sits him in front of his play cube and goes up to the master bedroom to phone Ethan.
“That’s it!” she screams down the phone. “That’s it! I’m done. Your goddamned daughter let a stranger pick Cal up from school today. Do you realize what could have happened? He could have been anyone. For three hours, our son was with someone none of us know. I feel sick when I think about it. I’m done, Ethan. Do you understand me? That’s it. That girl is not going to be taking Cal anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Her voice breaks, filling with sobs. “She comes back, and with her comes all the goddamned drama. Our lives have been so peaceful for three years. I’ve never been so happy, and the minute she’s back”—Andi can’t even bring herself to say Emily’s name—“there’s drama.
“I’ve had enough, Ethan. She is not going to have anything to do with Cal. Not anymore. We gave her a shot, and today, she blew it. I am going to see a lawyer, and I’m going to tell them what happened today, and about the drugs and alcohol, and we are going to get custody of Cal. Officially.” Andi runs out of steam. She clutches the phone, waiting for Ethan to say something, but there is just silence.
“Well?” she says finally. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
“I…” And she realizes he’s crying, too. “You’re right. This can’t happen again. Ever. Make that appointment.”
“Can you get home now? I have no idea where your daughter is, but right now I’m ready to murder her, and I’m not joking. You need to be with me, and together, we’re going to tell her.”
“I’m on my way.” Ethan puts down the phone and drops his head into his hands.
Forty-nine
Michael pulls his suit pants back on and reaches down to help me up from the living-room floor. I can’t believe we christened our apartment already! So cool! I stand up and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Maybe we should have some champagne to celebrate?” He cranes his head back to look at me. “There’s a wine bar right around the corner—VinoRosso. Shall we quickly run in?”
“Definitely.” I grin, taking a last look around the apartment. “Wow. I can’t believe we’re going to live here.” And as we walk up the road we can’t stop talking about what our life is going to be like, and how great it’s going to be when we start our new life here.
* * *
My phone is on vibrate, and it’s at the bottom of my purse, and I swear, I never heard it ring once. By the time I get it out to check it, when we’re in VinoRosso and Michael’s in the bathroom, I realize that I have majorly, majorly, fucked up.
There are endless missed calls from everyone. I look at my watch, and I gasp, because I swear, I swear on my life, I never ever realized what time it was, and that it had gotten so late.
I didn’t think. I didn’t think about anything other than the apartment. I know Manuel picked Cal up, but I was supposed to be back to take him home. And I’m not. And I feel sick.
I don’t even know who to call. My dad or Andi would be out of the question right now—I start to listen to the voice mails, but Andi is screaming, and I can’t listen. Sophia. She’s safest. I call her cell, and she picks up immediately.
“Wow, Emily.” Sophia’s voice is heavy with sarcasm. “You really outdid yourself today.”
“Jesus, Sophia. It was an accident, okay? I didn’t realize what time it was. I feel horrible. I just wanted to check that Cal was home and was okay.”
“Yes, he’s home, but no thanks to you. You let Mom’s flower guy who barely speaks English, and who she barely knows, pick up Cal? Nice move.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” I end up saying because she’s right, and I know it, and I don’t know what to do about it or how to make it better. “You refused to pick him up yourself.”
“How about not being so selfish and thinking about someone other than yourself all the time? That would be a good thing to do.”
I can’t tell her she’s right. I won’t. “Oh, my God, Sophia. Since when did you get so high-and-fucking-mighty,” I spit, wanting to hurt her—feeling, in that moment, like I am fourteen again and having another childish fight with my sister, and I want to cause her as much pain as she’s causing me.
“Oh right. I forgot. You’ve always been Miss Goody Two-shoes.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Sophia is incredulous. “Anything could have happened today. Manuel’s worked for Mom for about ten weeks. We know nothing about him. Not to mention that Cal went with Manuel in his truck, did you know that? And I’ve seen that truck. No seat belts and there’s no
way
he had a car seat.”
“You’re overreacting. Mom leaves Manuel and Pablo in charge all the time. She obviously trusts him. I wouldn’t leave Cal with a stranger.”
“She leaves them in charge for ten minutes at a time if she has to do an errand. That’s it. That doesn’t tell you anything about whether she trusts him or not.”
“He’s fine, isn’t he?” I end up asking wearily. “Nothing happened.”
“Thank the Lord. He’s home and yes, he’s fine. If I were you, I wouldn’t show my face around here for a while. Andi and Dad are ready to kill you.”
“Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” I feel my voice catch, and I know I am on the edge of tears. “You said yourself, Cal’s fine.”
“It is a big deal. And what’s more, you’re not going to be allowed to spend any more time with Cal.”
That’s like a red rag to a bull. At least, right now. I’m angry, and defensive, and I cannot admit that I’m wrong. Sophia’s saying this just pushes all my buttons.
“I am his mother, remember?” I say coldly. “Let them try and stop me.”
“Okay. I will. I have to go now. Honestly? I’m ashamed of you right now. I don’t even want to talk to you myself, and I wish you had never come back.” The phone goes dead.
Fifty
By the time Michael gets back from the restroom, I’m a total mess. My eyes are red and puffy, and I’m crying so hard I can barely get the words out. I try to tell him what happened, between sobs, as he feeds me tissues, and when I’ve finished, I realize he’s looking sad. And disappointed.
“God, Emily. I didn’t know you hadn’t found anyone to get Cal,” he says quietly. “I would never have dragged you in to see the apartment if I’d known.”
“What do you mean?” I snap. “You think they’re right?”
“Em.” His eyes are sad. “Of course they’re right. You let someone nobody really knows get a three-year-old from school. It’s totally irresponsible, not to mention, as they pointed out, potentially dangerous.”
“Christ.” I feel more judged than ever, and, as that old, unhappy Emily used to do, I start to shut down. When it hurts, shut it out or walk away. And this hurts. A lot. “Take their side, why don’t you.” I stand up in a fury, ready to walk out because I cannot take this pain, but Michael grabs my arm and pulls me back down.
“Listen to me. This isn’t about taking sides. I love you, Emily. And I know you. And sometimes you can be a little … thoughtless. You screwed up today. Big-time. It’s not the end of the world, but yes, you were wrong, and yes, you were selfish.”
I can’t believe he’s saying this to me. I glare at him, trying to find the words, and as I glare, the fight suddenly goes out of me. I can’t put up this fight. I was wrong. And the apartment isn’t an excuse. Nothing is an excuse.
“I know.” I close my eyes for a second. “I know I was wrong. I swear to you, I just totally forgot. I got so swept up in the excitement of the apartment, I forgot everything. To get him from school, and then to get him from Manuel and take him home. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”