H
ow are you doing?” Matthew asked quietly, hunkering down beside the bed.
Shannon opened drowsy eyes. “Wonderful. Go away.” Her eyes closed again.
“You’ve been asleep since six p.m. yesterday,” he told her, amused. “It’s going to be night again soon; you slept away a full day. Your brother’s getting worried about you. So am I. You’ve barely moved. Sometimes I’ve wondered if you were even breathing.” She was lying facedown, blankets pulled up past her chin, one of her arms thrown across a pillow—she had squeezed the life out of the feathers inside that pillow. The most he could see was ruffled hair, pretty eyes, and part of a sleepy face.
She opened her eyes again and briefly considered him. “I woke up occasionally, thought some about life, decided I’d like to sleep instead.”
He wanted to lean forward and kiss that delightful face, but he didn’t let himself move. “What’s the problem?”
“This is goodbye, isn’t it? You’re going to Boston for the Fourth and not coming back to Chicago.”
He would have preferred to have this conversation over dinner, but accepted reality. He sat down on the floor beside the bed, rested an arm across his bent knee. “Yes.”
She blinked at the admission, nodded. “I worked it out finally, what had to be next on your list. So what do you have planned for me?”
“You’ll meet Sandy Post for a walk tomorrow morning, see if you think you might want her to be your counselor. You need a good driver who knows Chicago’s streets—John’s got a guy who can be that for you, as well as two others who are going to be a buffer with the press. On Thursday, you’ll head to Shadow Lake for the weekend, and I’ll leave for Boston. The next weekend, Jeffery hosts an open house for family and friends to meet you. You’ll want to be in Chicago for Flynn’s birthday later this month. You’ll stay with Jeffery and Cindy while you look around at options for your own place. Cindy, Charlotte, Ann—are all volunteering to go apartment and condo hunting with you. John’s got several places in mind with good security he thinks you might like. I’ll be back in Chicago at the end of the month to see how you’re doing. If you want to come out to Boston then, you can drive back with me. If you decide to stay out East for a while, I’ll help you find an apartment there you like.”
She leaned up on her elbow. “I didn’t want it to end like this.”
“It was always going to end, Shannon, we both knew that. You can’t live in my pocket, and I can’t live in yours, not while you work on what’s next in your recovery. We’ll transition this to a friendship that might one day be something more. I’m going to be just a phone call away. I’m not abandoning you. I’ve got your journals to finish reading, while Paul wants some help identifying ownership of the recovered items. Trust me—you’ll
be on my mind constantly. But this is the next step you need me to take.”
“I’ll get better faster if you’re around.”
He shook his head. “You’re ready to fly without me. The best thing I can do is let you go enjoy that freedom. You’re up for it, Shannon.”
“And if I’m not?”
He smiled. “The woman who walked out in front of the press yesterday morning is ready to face anything, even if she might quiver for a while afterwards.”
“Would you do me a favor?”
“If I can.”
“Find me an apartment in Boston you know I would like, so that if I need to bolt out of here or just want to visit, I’ll have somewhere to stay. If the pressure gets intense and I need to get away, at least I can run to you.”
“Still have my number memorized?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll do that, Shannon.” He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Come join me for dinner and then a game of Scrabble. Paul’s been calling with regular updates today. The arrests are now at thirteen.”
Her face disappeared under the pillow. “Give me an hour. And I don’t want to hear the updates. I’m done.”
“Jeffery says you’ve had two hundred eighteen press calls.”
She groaned.
He got to his feet, tousled the hair he could see. “Face it, you’re famous. Want me to show you the newspapers? You make a nice photo standing with your brother.”
“Go away. Now you’re just making this even more difficult.”
“Half an hour or dinner will start getting cold.”
“What are we having?”
“Pot roast, potatoes, carrots.”
Her face reappeared. “I think I’m hungry.”
“Good.” He smiled at her expression. The face he was seeing now, the look in her eyes, was that of a woman ready to start living again. “Your phone is filled with messages too. You should call your aunt. She seems like a very nice woman.”
“Did Mom or Dad call?”
“Occasionally yesterday, only every hour since about noon today. I had to promise your mom I’d call her myself when you opened your eyes, which I shall now go do to stay in her good graces.”
“She’s doing okay?”
“She said you looked lovely at the press conference—she thought the dress and the jewelry and the hairstyle were perfect, and she was proud of you.”
Shannon’s smile softened. “That’s more the mom I remember.”
“I think she’ll be fine. Okay, it’s twenty-five minutes now. I’m going to set the table.” He left her to get ready, returned to the kitchen, made the promised call to Shannon’s mother, then set the table. He was acutely aware he was turning a page with Shannon, starting a new chapter. Distance was going to either loosen the bond between them or make the heart grow fonder. He had an idea as to which way his was going to go.
He had one last piece of information to give Shannon in the next day: the name of her birth father. But he thought she could weather that knowledge okay. Her mom had dated the man in high school, seen him again at a high school reunion at a particularly low point in her marriage, and Shannon had been born nine months later. Everything Matthew had found out to
date indicated he was a decent guy. He had never married, so there wasn’t a family on his side to be hurt if Shannon decided to make a connection as his daughter. Matthew thought it was a fifty-fifty proposition whether Shannon would choose to have that conversation one day.
His phone rang, and he saw it was Becky. “Hi, honey.” He talked with her while he waited for Shannon. He finished the call and checked on dessert. The phone rang again, Jeffery this time. Shannon appeared forty minutes later, hair still damp, while he was on the phone with her brother. He had to smile. She was in comfortable jeans and a shirt, but she’d found fuzzy slippers from somewhere. “Hold on, Jeffery. You can ask her yourself.”
He handed over the phone and moved to check on the dinner rolls he’d slid into the oven.
“Do I want to do a public sit-down lunch with Jeffery tomorrow to give reporters more casual photos?” Shannon asked, holding the phone against her shoulder.
“Yes. Tell him to make reservations at Falcons for one o’clock, a window table. You might as well give Paul’s sister’s restaurant the publicity.”
“The premise being the more photos reporters have, the less they will badger me for more.”
“That’s the idea, yes.”
Shannon made the arrangements with Jeffery, handed back the phone. “He sounds like he’s in a good mood.”
“There’s nothing a politician likes better than good news and lots of press interested in that good news. He comes across as what he is, a protective, loving brother. You’ve helped him make an overnight bump in the tracking polls. Even people who don’t care about voting now remember his name and like him.”
He brought over a platter with their meal, pulled the rolls from
the oven and dropped them into a basket. “I’m saying a very short grace, if you don’t mind, because this food needs blessing.”
She grinned. “You’re not that bad a cook.”
“Years of failures have taught me a few things.” He reached across for her hand. “Jesus, I’m taking advantage of the fact I like to pray before a meal to hold her hand—I’m just saying what you already know. I appreciate this place we’ve been able to stay, and our absent host who’s been so accommodating with his home. I thank you that Shannon has gotten some much-needed sleep and looks rested, was able to find fuzzy slippers to keep her toes warm and me amused. She needs the rest of the week to be safe—from the press and the questions, and we would both like your help sorting out the coming summer. Amen.”
Matthew wasn’t surprised when her hand tightened around his and didn’t release for a long moment, but also wasn’t surprised when she wouldn’t meet his gaze. He didn’t fluster her often, but he’d been aware he could.
He buttered a roll while she fixed her plate, then passed him the serving fork. He filled his plate.
“You’re good at that,” she mentioned.
“What?”
“Speaking your mind to God.”
“I imagine you are too.”
“Not out loud.”
“You can learn. Because if you want to share a prayer with me, you’ll either need to say it out loud or write it down and let me read it.”
“Do you want me to share my prayers?”
“Yes. Or at least tell me what you’re talking about with God. He’s your best friend, Shannon. It’s kind of hard to really know you if I don’t know what you and God are talking about.”
“Oh. I see your point.” She thought about that, and her smile widened. She nodded. “Okay.”
“Now eat. My cooking is definitely not going to be good cold.”
She picked up her fork, and they ate in comfortable silence.
A few moments later, as she buttered a roll, Shannon asked, “How much do reporters know about me and the case?”
“Sure you wouldn’t just like to read the newspapers?”
“Just give me the highlights.”
Matthew nodded, cleared his throat. “They have what the FBI has made public: the abducted children, the farm, the eighteen names being searched for, the arrests so far. They picked up on the East Coast location this morning, and the noon news report had some information about stolen artworks being recovered. The news cycles have been full enough that there hasn’t been much speculation about your last eleven years, but that will come when the other facts start to slow down.”
“People will begin to pity me.”
“Only until they meet you. You’re a survivor, not a victim. It’s clearly evident.”
“Thanks.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“What’s for dessert?”
“Brownies.”
“Not a bad meal.”
“I spent most of the day waiting for you to wake up—I had to fill the time somehow.”
She broke open another dinner roll. “Ideally, what would you like this summer to be?”
He thought about it. “You hanging out with Cindy, Charlotte, Ellie, Ann, baby-sitting Ashley, taking a few thousand photographs. Laughter becoming a regular part of your day.”
“That’s . . . I was going to say ‘sweet,’ but it’s more like a practical ‘nice.’”
“I want you to find a place you like, decorate it, and enjoy the summer. You need months spent without a list to accomplish.”
“And for yourself?”
“I’m going to enjoy hearing about what you’re doing. And the business needs me back in the office.”
Shannon went to fetch the brownies. “I suppose I can do that this summer. It sounds nice. I bought the fuzzy slippers when I went shoe shopping, because I knew they would get a comment from you.”
He studied her over his fork. “Are they warm?”
“Very comfortable.”
“They are cute,” he agreed, amused with her. “Are we playing Scrabble tonight?”
“That, or we’re watching a really lame movie. I’d hate for us to break tradition.”
Matthew got up to find the Scrabble board. “I enjoy doing both with you.”
“I know.” She began flipping tiles facedown.
“You’re going to do okay this summer,” he felt compelled to mention.
“If not, I’ll be calling you, so I’ll agree with that,” she replied and played the first word on the board.
He picked up his next tile, then played the word
brownie
.
Shannon laughed. “You and Becky play this game a lot.”
“We have a lot of conversations,” Matthew replied. “A board game tends to be part of that process.”
“I was thinking I would buy Jeffery a Scrabble board so I could talk with him at a measured pace this summer.”
He looked carefully over at her. “I think that’s a wise idea.”
“He needs to know.”
Matthew hesitated. “He’s your brother. He needs to know the big picture, not necessarily all the details. Tell him to call me if he has a specific question.”
“Thank you.”
“Hmm.” He played
time
and wished they had more of it. He’d let her go with grace because it was the right thing to do. It was time for her to spread her wings without him. But nothing said it was going to be easy for him to walk away.
M
atthew had left something precious behind in Chicago. He knew their goodbye would be painful. Even being prepared for it, the reality was worse than he’d expected.
His kitchen was quiet again, the windows no longer rattling from the large fireworks going off, no more of Becky’s college friends raiding the refrigerator. She had managed to talk four of them into coming for the weekend. At least having guests had saved him from having too much time in which to think. Matthew found the mug he was after, poured himself more decaf, and took it with him out to the back deck. The drifting odor of sulfur was still heavy in the air, and it made his eyes water.
He leaned against the patio railing, studied the moon, listened to random firecrackers still exploding around the neighborhood, wondered idly if Shannon had also stepped outside tonight to take in the full moon. It had been three days since he’d seen her, and he thought he was actually moping.
At
my age, even with her a phone call away, I’
m dragging around like a lost puppy.
“You miss her.”
He glanced over, realized his daughter had joined him. He draped his arm around her shoulders. “When did you get to be so smart?”
“Why don’t you call her?”
“It’s late.”
“But it’s an hour earlier there.” When he simply shook his head at her, she asked, “Is she coming out to Boston?”
“If she doesn’t, we’ll visit her together in Chicago,” he replied, brushing back a lock of her hair, wondering when this daughter of his had turned into a spitting image of her mom. “I’m glad you’re enjoying college.”
“I think it’s a rite of passage to be homesick. I miss home, but
mostly
I’m enjoying being there.”
He smiled, knowing what she meant. “Home is now for visiting, not staying.”
“You should call her.”
He shook his head. “She’s sad I’m not going back to Chicago.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“She needs to know she’s strong enough to stand without me. If I’m there, she won’t know that. She’s also got family and friends to help her.”
“She’ll think you don’t want her.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she’ll accept that I can’t with a clear conscience let her fall for the first safe guy she finds after she returned.”
Becky took his coffee mug and sipped at it. “You had a really interesting last three weeks.”
The understatement of the decade, Matthew thought. “I did.”
“Do you mind that she looked you up, found you?”
“No, I like that she did. I enjoy being useful.”
“Is that the only reason you like her?”
He thought of the wealth of feelings he had for Shannon and wisely only said, “No. And it’s not a conversation for you and me to have tonight.”
“Okay.” She handed him back his coffee. “I prefer it with some cream.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Oops. I forgot to hang it up. I was talking to Shannon.” She held out her phone. “She probably heard what we said, if you want to clarify any of your remarks.”
He chuckled as he reached for her phone. “Way too sneaky. What are they teaching you at that college?”
“One does what one has to,” she said with a smile and a shrug, then leaned in to give him a hug. “I love you, Dad.”
“It’s mutual, kiddo. Now scat.”
He held the phone as if it were a live explosive and risked asking Shannon, “First, how badly did she just embarrass you with this stunt?”
“I can deal with Becky’s idea of patching up a problem. How are you, Matthew?”
“Missing you, as you no doubt heard. How’s your weekend going?”
“I’m playing cards with Rachel, Charlotte, and Bryce. I think Rachel and I are winning, but bridge isn’t my game. Black is presently sprawled across my feet.”
“Wish you were here.” They both spoke the same thought at the same time and shared a laugh.
“You actually wouldn’t have enjoyed Boston with the sights and smells tonight,” Matthew added, “but the sentiment is real.”
“I’m coming east to see you on the seventeenth, Matthew.
The driver John arranged for me is going to fly with me and make sure I survive the flight. Can you meet me at the airport?”
“Sure.”
“Find me a nice place to rent out there. I’m going to sign the lease on one in a suburb of Chicago this next week. I decided I’ve probably got enough income to have two homes.”
“You do.”
“I’m packing my pink dress and those high heels. I want to go dancing.”
He rested against the railing and smiled. “Do you?”
“I’ve also decided that dating a bunch of guys just to discover I still like you more is only accommodating your worry versus acting in my best interests. I’m not dating for a year—I agreed with my counselor on that, so don’t go all honorable on me and say no. You can just take me to dinner and dancing when I visit, the courteous thing to do with an old friend.” Neither of them could resist laughing at her description. “If in a year I don’t like you as much as I thought,” she continued, “I’ll ask to meet some of the guys you think might be a good fit.”
That list would probably have zero names on it, since he wasn’t inclined toward her finding someone else. “I’ll enjoy taking you dancing,” he replied, bypassing the rest of what she’d said.
She laughed again. “Becky said you would be reluctantly accommodating. Is this you being reluctantly accommodating?”
“This is me being aware you’re very amused right now.”
“I like you, Matthew.”
“It’s mutual,” he admitted. “Enjoy your evening, Shannon. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Not too early.”
“Not too early,” he promised.
He hung up and held out the phone toward Becky, aware all along of her watching from inside the patio door.
She rejoined him on the deck. “Mad?”
“No. Hearing her voice made me feel better.”
His daughter hugged him. “I like her.”
“I do too.”
Becky said good-night and headed back inside, looking just a bit triumphant.
Getting married again wouldn’t be such a bad next chapter in his life, Matthew decided. Give Shannon a few years, see if she still thought he was at the top of her list, then ask her the question. When he was young, any number of years would have sounded like an eternity. Now that he was older, the years seemed to be passing by in the blink of an eye.
He understood her problems better than she did, he thought. He’d read most of the journals, would have all of them read soon, and had walked a similar road with Becky. They could make it work, he knew. It wouldn’t be an easy next year or two for Shannon, but she was further along the road to recovery than he’d expected, and it wasn’t such an impossibly hard climb that he wasn’t willing to make it with someone again.
Tomorrow he’d start looking for that apartment. He didn’t have to ask to realize her intentions. She’d be living out here to avoid the press around her brother, to take advantage of being near the ocean so she could swim often. She’d start using her camera in a serious way again, and she’d invade his life however he let her. Matthew smiled. She needed this summer to be light and fun and filled with occasions to show off those high heels. He’d accommodate her. It would be a good summer for him too.