Chapter 9: That's Enough for Now

A few residents in the quiet neighborhood tended to their lawns and gardens on the warm afternoon. A few kids rode their bikes on the sidewalk or were sitting on the front lawn enjoying the beginning of their summer.

"2409," Emma repeated to herself as she past 2407, her car veered slightly off the lane as she tried to read the house numbers and a passing car honked. Emma shifted quickly back into the right lane and found herself in front of 2409.

Emma stepped out of her car and looked up at the fairly large house. She was hoping Nigel wouldn't be caught off guard at the stranger inquiring about his missing friend. She was doing this to help, she would do as much as possible just to see that James reached back home.

She rang their doorbell and heard the silent pattering of feet on the other side of the oak door. A tall teenager opened the door, wiping his hands on his "Chess Champions Summer Camp" t-shirt.

"Hi…" Nigel looked her up and down and smiled when he reached her face again. "Can I help you?"

Emma smiled politely, "Good afternoon, I'm Emma Nelson."

Nigel adjusted the retainer in his mouth so he could speak clearer.

"I'm Nigel, Nigel Linden."

"Nigel, you're a friend of James Pierce right?" Emma remained polite but hated talking Nigel on his front step.

"Look, I don't know… I don't know anything about where James is." Emma looked down at her feet still a little uncomfortable with standing outside. Nigel took this notion differently and felt his heart dip, was something wrong with James? "Is he okay Ms. Nelson?"

Emma looked Nigel straight in the eye, "We can only be assured of that if you help his parents find him."

Nigel stepped out from in front of the door so Emma could step in.

"Nigel! Who is that?" A woman's voice called down the stairs.

"She's just selling something mom."



Emma looked around the house as she entered, a very well decorated house with walls covered in family portraits and pictures of Nigel. There were awards for perfect attendance and recognition to three different Linden's. The family was no doubt very successful in their jobs and academics.

"Ms. Nelson, I don't know anything."

Emma nodded, crossing her hands over her chest. "James told me you're his best friend Nigel. His parents haven't heard anything from him and they are worried. He could be considered a runaway this afternoon if we have no idea where he is."

"Are you the shrink he told me about?" He raised an eyebrow intrusively.

"I'm his psychiatrist, yes."

A few juvenile boy thoughts went through Nigel's mind at the thought of James getting to spend thirty minutes with someone so hot. Emma waited patiently in front of him oblivious to what Nigel was thinking.

Nigel shook his head, coming to his senses that he was being rude. "I've sent him messages on his phone and he won't reply to them… I can only help by telling you where he was Friday."

Emma nodded, "Go ahead."

"This girl in our grade, her name is Leah, she had a party and he was invited. I can give you her address; just don't tell her I gave it to you—she's way too cool."

Nigel rummaged through a few books by the telephone directories and found a John Abrams Academy phone book. He wrote down the address on a sheet of paper nearby and handed it to Emma.

She smiled at him, "Nigel, your helping your friend in a great way. His parents and I appreciate it so much, but if he contacts you Nigel, you should tell them."

Nigel opened the front door, nodding understandingly. "Bye."

"Bye Nigel."

"James, you have to understand! Your mother was young, a junior in high school. She couldn't take care of you."

James heard Robert's voice say this every single day for the past three years. He could remember it easily: he was twelve and curious and after rummaging through the brown trunk he was told to leave alone found a letter signed by Liberty Van Zandt—claiming to be his birth mother.

Finding out the people who you've called "mom" and "dad" your entire life wasn't easy at all especially when it seemed they were never planning on telling you. His breakdown in the middle of their bedroom, minutes after bursting through their closed doors and interrupting their hushed conversation. Watching Debbie try and hold him and begin to cry when he yelled at her, Robert grabbing him by the shoulders roughly for him to calm down.

"James, what is wrong?" Robert asked unaware of the letter clutched in James' hands.

"You've lied to me! You lied…"

James rubbed his eyes on the shaky train remembering how he cried that night, a few weeks before Christmas. Undeniably his worst yet.

Debbie reached for the letter in his hand, she read it to herself before her hands began to tremble.

"Robert… Robert!"

James fell to the ground as his father let go of him to comfort his terrified mother. He wiped his blurry eyes.

"Why? Why... did you never tell me?"

"You're not old enough, we were waiting."

"Why…" James cried and repeated the word into the carpet. His mother tried to make him stop, rubbed his back, and begged him to just listen.

"James, mommy is here--."

James jumped up, "You're not my mom!"

Debbie broke down again, a fit of tears and sobbing overwhelmed her.

James hated to see the pain he just caused his mother and stormed into his room. He slammed the door, locked it and pushed his chair in front of it before falling unto his bed and screaming into his pillow.

He can't remember for sure, but it felt like he'd been sleeping a whole entire week before he opened his eyes again. He could only remember Robert on the edge of his bed, his face sullen and weary resting a hand on James' own hand and saying: "James… you have to understand. Your mother was young, a junior in high school. She couldn't take care of you. But we could and we have."



Emma looked at the piece of paper, Nigel handed her. He never put the girl's last name on the paper, which did not help her in any way but she tried to avoid turning around and bothering him again.

The street was different than his, the houses were much smaller and the backyards wooded. There weren't devoted gardeners nurturing their gardens or lawns but sitting on lawn chairs talking, playing cards, smoking and watching closely every single car that went by.

It was nice to see that Leah's house didn't have the same atmosphere as others did. There was a nice, small garden in front of the quaint house. Well kept grass and even a tire swing on the large tree standing tall in front of it.

There was a car in the driveway, hopefully the family didn't have company and her visit wouldn't disrupt whatever affair that was going on. She knocked on the door, then spotted the doorbell by the doorknob. It took a while for anyone to respond but she eventually heard a mellow voice say, "Hold on a sec."

Emma groomed herself a little, before anyone answered the door. She'd been driving more than the usual today and felt a little messy on appearance at the moment. She wouldn't complain, she offered to do this tedious task and besides, her evenings lately were spent reading a novel in her comfy bed.

The door swung open in front of her.

"Hi," the person said huffily before the door was even completely open.

Emma looked up, a bit caught off guard. "Hi, I--."

Her face fell, a mock to his own dubious expression.

"Sean?"

"Emma?"