Where They Found Her (13 page)

MAY 3, 1994

The Captain sat with me during lunch! I was eating out in the courtyard with Tiffany and Stephanie when he came out all by himself. And like he was LOOKING for me!

Thank God Steph and Tiff took off when he came. They did it real subtle, though, like they just had somewhere to be.

They still think the Captain is a dick and that he’s fucking with me. But now that they’ve said their piece, they’re not going to stand in my way. Because, unlike my parents, those girls actually care about me.

All my parents have ever cared about is “bettering themselves.” Especially now that my dad is the brand-new night manager of the Stanton Hotel, which my mom acts like is the same as president of the United States. And after my mom got that office job at her church? Forget about it. We’ve got to be this picture-perfect family so we can keep “getting somewhere in the community.”

Or really, I’ve got to be perfect. Because my parents already think they are. And if their idea of me being perfect—quiet, girlie, sweet (none of which I am)—makes me feel like crap? Oh well, too bad so sad for me.

But the Captain doesn’t judge people just on the surface like that. Because he isn’t pretending to be something he’s not.

After Tiff and Stephanie were gone, the Captain and I talked for a while. He said his history paper was kicking his ass, which is kind of hard to believe considering how smart he is. I liked that he talked to me about school. Guys always think that all I can talk about is getting wasted and maybe music or something. But I’m interested in lots of things and it shows how smart the Captain is that he can tell I’m pretty damn smart myself.

And that was it. For a whole thirty minutes. Nice, sweet. And at the end the Captain said: Good talking to you. See you around.

I hope that means soon.

“Hello?” Barbara called for the kids as she stepped inside.

No one answered—no Hannah, no Cole. But they weren’t technically late yet. Hannah picked up Cole on Tuesdays after swimming, and they’d be even later because Barbara hadn’t canceled his stupid playdate with Will afterward. Really, she should have brought Cole home when
The Very Hungry Caterpillar
was finished. She’d been right there, it would have been easy enough to do. It wasn’t as if he would have missed something critical. He was only in kindergarten. But Cole loved school, and he loved routine. He would have been upset about leaving without some kind of explanation. It seemed absurd now, but Barbara had also been worried about Cole being disappointed—missing swimming, missing his playdate. That had seemed so much more important a few hours ago. It had felt like the only thing that mattered.

Barbara looked out the kitchen windows toward the row of bare trees ringing the small backyard. The sun had already sunk out of sight, a wide swath of pinks and purples marking the place where it had gone. It would be dark before long.

“I’m sure Cole’s fine,” Steve had said when she’d called him from the Ridgedale Elementary School parking lot after her meeting with Rhea and after she’d had to return an hour later to suffer through
The
Very Hungry Caterpillar
. “Rhea means well, no doubt. But that doesn’t mean she’s right. All kids act funny sometimes. Even the totally normal ones are mostly weirdos.”

Steve was trying to lighten things up, but it was hard not to feel like he was also searching for the fastest way off the phone, so he could get back to what he really cared about: work. “I hope you’re right,” Barbara had said, not persuaded in the least.

“I’m sorry, Barb, but can we talk more about Cole when I get home? I’ve got my hands full here at the moment.”

After what had happened to that poor baby, she could hardly blame Steve for being distracted; surely he was overwhelmed by the investigation. Assuming that’s where his mind really was. And Barbara refused to let herself speculate about the alternatives. Nothing good would come of it.

“Sure, I guess, okay,” she’d said, trying to be supportive. It was the right thing to do. Even though she really wanted to beg Steve to come right away. “But when will you be home?”

“As soon as I can. But really, Barb, try not to worry about Cole,” Steve had said. “He’ll be fine. He’s a tough nut, just like his mom.”

Finally, Barbara heard a key in the side door.

“Hi, guys!” she called—too cheerfully, probably—smiling wide as the door opened.

But Barbara’s chest seized the second she saw them. Hannah looking stunned and pale as she clutched Cole, his face buried in the shoulder of her long Brown University sweatshirt.

“What happened?” Barbara asked, rushing over and grabbing him. “Cole, what’s wrong?”

He felt leaden in Barbara’s arms. He wasn’t crying anymore, but from the look of the puffy little scar under his eye, he’d been outright bawling. Cole buried his face in Barbara’s neck but didn’t answer her.

“Hannah, what on earth happened?” Barbara snapped. She’d tried to keep the accusatory edge from her voice, but it was no use. All Hannah had to do was pick him up. Was it that much to ask that she manage it without him getting hysterical?

“I’ve asked him at least a hundred times, but he won’t tell me.” Hannah sounded like she might cry, which was hardly helpful. “Will’s mom said they were playing LEGOs and Cole just freaked out.”

“Freaked out?” Barbara snapped. “Hannah, I’m sure she didn’t say that.”

“But she did.” There were tears in Hannah’s eyes now. “She said it exactly like that. That’s kind of mean, isn’t it? For a mom?”

Barbara took a deep breath and rocked Cole back and forth in her arms.
That’s because Stella’s not a regular mom
, Barbara wanted to say.
She’s an oversexed narcissist who probably cares more about finding a new boyfriend than her own children
. Stella was exactly the reason Will was so out of control. Look at Will’s brother, Aidan. One messed-up child could be a fluke; two was a pattern that could be traced right back to the parents.

“Oh well, I’m sure she didn’t mean to say that,” Barbara said, rubbing a protective hand over Cole’s head.
Yes, she did, that thoughtless bitch
. “Don’t worry, Hannah.”
Even though you were probably too worried about pleasing Stella to stand up for your brother
. “Cole will be fine, honey. He’s just tired. Now, why don’t you go ahead upstairs and get started on your homework?” That way Barbara wouldn’t be tempted to say something to her daughter that she truly might regret. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Hannah asked, drifting closer to Cole.

Instinctively, Barbara held him tighter, swallowing the irritation that was clogging her throat. “I’m sure, honey.”

She was willing to overlook whatever role Hannah might have had in allowing Cole to get upset. But she would not tolerate her daughter getting upset herself. Sometimes all of Hannah’s “sensitivities” seemed an awful lot like self-involvement.

“Your physics midterm is tomorrow, isn’t it?” Barbara had Hannah’s entire exam schedule committed to memory. More proof that whatever was going on with Cole wasn’t some oversight on Barbara’s part. She
paid attention
—it was what she did. “You need to stay focused on your classwork, Hannah. Acceptance letter or not, Cornell will look at your final grades.”

“Okay,” Hannah said reluctantly, like she was afraid something worse might happen the second she stepped from the room. She tried to meet eyes with Cole, but his face was still buried in Barbara’s neck. “I’m sorry you’re upset, Cole.” She waited a second for him to look at her.

When he didn’t, she finally drifted away. She was barely up the stairs when the doorbell rang.

“My goodness, now what?” Barbara singsonged into the side of Cole’s head, hoping she sounded more amused than worried. She put him down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Stay here, honey. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Not that it looked like Cole was going anywhere ever again.

Barbara tried to stand taller as she headed to the front door.
Not perfect, only happy. Not perfect, only happy.
Except how was that supposed to make her feel any better, when Cole did not seem remotely happy?

Through the squares of glass beside the front door, Barbara could see her own mom, Caroline, standing on their front stoop. It was Tuesday, the day her parents joined them for dinner each week. Barbara had completely forgotten. She loved her mother dearly, but having her parents there today, of all days, wouldn’t make anything easier.

Barbara forced the corners of her mouth up. “It starts with a smile!” That was Caroline’s second favorite saying, right after “Not perfect, only happy.” The truth only matters as much as you allow it, that was Caroline’s point.

“My word, that took a long time!” Caroline called when Barbara finally opened the door. Her round cheeks looked especially rosy against her red coat, but her new chin-length hair was making them seem puffier than usual. Barbara worried that her own shorter haircut was doing the same thing—inflating her. Caroline shifted the casserole in her hands and pressed a squishy cheek against Barbara’s much stiffer one. There was never a kiss, only the cheeks.

“How many times did you ring? I only heard it once.” Barbara was already on the defensive. But she needed to relax. Not take everything so much to heart. Her mother didn’t mean anything. Everything in her head just came right out of her mouth. Besides, with Caroline, reacting only served to draw attention to her most vulnerable spots. “I was with Cole in the other room.”

“Let me guess. That terrible SpongeBob blotting out the world again.”

“Cole doesn’t watch SpongeBob, Mom,” Barbara said, nipping at the bait anyway. “The TV wasn’t even on. Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, his back is acting up again.” Caroline waved an aggravated hand. “It’s all that leaning over the cars all day. I keep telling him to leave it to the boys. That’s what he pays them for, and too generously, I might add. But you know your father; he treats that business like some precious orchid in need of constant attention. They’re
cars
, for heaven’s sake.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it,” Barbara said, though she wished she could send her mom home to take care of her dad without offending her.

As Barbara turned back to the kitchen and Cole—whom she really needed to be worried about—a sudden shakiness nearly overwhelmed her. She had to press a hand against the wall to keep herself upright.

“Oh my, what’s wrong, dear?” Caroline stepped closer, clutching the casserole between them. “Have you not eaten today? You know how woozy you get when you don’t eat.”

Barbara forced herself to take a deep breath and pushed herself up off the wall. She’d already left Cole out there too long. “I’m not hungry, Mom,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen. “It’s Cole. There’s something— He had an off day. It’s all been a little stressful. Maybe I’m just tired.”

“An off day?” her mom called after her. “What on earth does that mean?”

Back in the kitchen, Barbara poured herself a glass of cold water, gulping it down, trying to ignore the way Caroline was hovering inside the kitchen door, peering at Cole.

“Well, is he hurt?” Caroline sounded concerned but a little disgusted, too. To her, physical pain was the only legitimate justification for any kind of outburst.

Barbara knelt down in front of Cole, smoothing the hair out of his eyes. He’d found a rubber band somewhere and was wearing it around his wrist, snapping it over and over against his skin. Not hard, but Barbara put one hand over the band so he’d stop, then lifted his chin with her other hand. Finally, Cole looked at her. His brown eyes, wet and pink-rimmed, glowed. Barbara wiped her thumb over his cheek, stained gray where his tears had turned playground dust to mud.

“Can you tell me what happened, Cole?” she asked. “With Will?”

Cole’s lower lip started to shake. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and started to rock, clamping his hands over his ears as if blocking out some horrible sound.

“Cole, stop that!” Caroline cried, rushing closer, still with the stupid baking dish in her hands. “What on earth?”

Hands over his ears, Cole dove into the crook of Barbara’s arm. She thought she might be sick. It was so awful. All of it.

Barbara wanted so badly to smack his hands down. To shout at him to stop. But she wouldn’t do that to Cole. Whatever this was, it wasn’t his fault.
Something
had happened to him.
Stella
and her house of horrors, that’s what. Barbara took a breath and covered Cole’s hands with her own, rocking him gently against her. She heard Caroline’s voice in the distance, but she needed to focus on her son. And he was so stiff in her arms. It was like holding a rusted metal coil. Barbara pressed her nose into Cole’s hair. At least he smelled right: of salt and sand and sweat. Like any other normal little boy. She put her lips against his clammy cheek and kept on rocking. Because Cole
was
normal, that much she knew.

“It hurt my eyes,” Cole mumbled finally. “And my ears. It was hurting my ears.”

“What hurt?” Barbara asked, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle. But all she wanted to do was scream. And all she could think about was how she was going to let loose on Stella. That woman could raise her children in whatever substandard fashion she saw fit, but how
dare
she let the consequences of her casual neglect injure someone else’s. “Did Will do something to you, Cole?”

“It was the way he was looking at me,” Cole whispered.

“For heaven’s sake,
what
way he was looking at you, Cole?” Caroline shouted, angry now.

Barbara tried not to bristle. Caroline didn’t mean to sound so harsh; she lost her patience when she was worried. She couldn’t help it. And Cole did look and sound absolutely crazy.

“How was Will looking at you, Cole?” Barbara asked him quietly.

He pulled back to look at her. Eye contact was progress. But then Cole shook his head. “Not Will.” Great. What did that mean? Aidan? Some strange boyfriend Stella had over? Barbara sucked in a little mouthful of air. “Do you know who it was, Cole?” she asked, lifting her voice, hoping that would make it sound less afraid. “Who was looking at you?”

Cole just shook his head some more.

“This is ridiculous, Barbara. How can he not
know
? He’s just not saying,” Caroline said sourly. Then she really yelled: “Cole, tell your mother exactly what happened this instant!”

Cole flinched and tucked himself back into Barbara’s arms. She thought about asking Caroline to leave. Imagined telling her mother that she could not speak to Cole in that tone. Not in her house. Barbara would not tolerate it. If Caroline didn’t stop, she wouldn’t be welcomed back in their home. Not ever.

Or Barbara could do much less. She could signal to Caroline to be more gentle. She could politely ask her mother not to raise her voice. But Barbara already knew she wasn’t even going to do that. She wasn’t going to do anything.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” Barbara whispered into Cole’s head and went back to rocking him. “You’re safe now. You’re here with me. Everything will be just fine.”

Barbara held Cole like that for so long, rocking him gently. The whole time she could feel Caroline’s eyes burning into the back of her head, clearly dying to tell Cole to go get a tissue, to tell Barbara to make her son get out of her lap already. Mercifully, she didn’t say a word.

At last Cole’s body loosened so much that Barbara was about to check if he’d fallen asleep, but then he pushed himself up and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Can I watch
Bob the Builder
now?” he asked, as if they’d been in the middle of discussing that very thing.

“Okay,” Barbara said reflexively. Though they were ordinarily a no-TV-on-weekdays household, she would have said yes to anything. “But only for a couple of minutes.”

“All right, Mommy!” Cole cheered as he jumped up and raced happily toward the living room.