This chapter has the content that I'd intended for the previous chapter when I originally started writing it, but then Brandon decided to be a decent guy and open up a little and I couldn't find it in my heart to ruin it. Happy reading!
Chapter 30
The sun was starting to set by the time Imogen's friends were being dragged away by their respective parents. She appeared in front of me, interrupting my thoughts about how this new phase of my training was going to affect my life as she announced it was time to leave. I nodded and stood to follow as she immediately turned on her heels, making a beeline for the park gate. We didn't speak, as was out custom, as we wove through the streets toward her home. The silence wasn't comfortable by any means, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as it had been in the past, probably due to the little insights Brandon had provided before running off to work. She didn't hate me. She didn't dislike me intensely. She was just a troubled little girl who was doing what she could to protect her heart that had already been broken more than any child her age should have to go through.
I was just wondering at the fact that she had stayed by my side the entire walk so far when she did two things simultaneously that caught me off guard. The first was to let out a joyously shouted, "Race you home!" The second was to accelerate into a sprint and disappear around the next corner.
I sped up to follow suit, her excited giggles echoing in my ears. By the time I was around that first corner she was already at the next, just a glimpse of her green jacket wafting out behind her letting me know how far behind I was already. The thoughts in my head were warring between the satisfaction of having Imogen engage me in a game of sorts, and the niggling feeling that Brandon had put her up to it as a kind of test. It wasn't entirely out of character for him to do such a thing, but I'd like to think that after such a heart to heart this afternoon he would have afforded me a break.
Three corners later I was faced with an empty alleyway. A dead end. No Imogen in sight. No clue as to where she might have disappeared to. The only doors that lead onto the alley were locked. The windows secured. Now I knew Brandon had put her up to it.
I called her name, not that I expected a reply, but I had to try, just in case. I had to cover all my bases. I had to find Imogen before Brandon got home. Before Brandon found her. Before I failed his test. Probably, I'd already failed just by losing sight of her.
"Imogen!" I called again, triple checking the doors and windows. I peered in the dumpster just to be on the safe side. No sane person would voluntarily get inside one but speaking as someone who had spent more than her fair share of time in dumpsters, it wasn't totally out of the question. "Imogen, come on!" I yelled. "This isn't funny!"
Predictably, there was no response. I gave the alley one more glance over before backing back out onto the street. Maybe I'd misjudged which turn she'd taken. Moving as fast as my legs would take me, I checked each of the next three turns off the street. All dead ends. All empty. No sign of Imogen.
My breathing was ragged. Pulse racing faster than my feet had been to try to catch up to Imogen. Panic was starting to set in. All the possibilities of what could be going on if this was not a test running through my head. She'd disappeared without a trace. None of the people on the streets had seen her. And we'd taken so many turns that nothing looked familiar anymore. I couldn't even begin to guess on the best route back to Brandon's house. I tried calling Imogen's cell phone on the off chance that she would answer, but of course she didn't. I scrolled back up to Brandon's number, my thumb hovering over the little phone icon. I should call him. Admit defeat if this was a test, let him know what was happening if it wasn't. But I just didn't want-
My phone started vibrating in my hand. I didn't even wait for it to recognise who was on the other end, just hit accept and thrust the device up to my ear.
"Hello?" I asked, out of breath.
"Dad's going to be home any minute now." Imogen. Her voice registered in my brain before her words filtered through.
"Where are you?" I demanded. "I turned a corner and you were gone. I've been looking everywhere for you."
"I think I hear his car in the driveway," Imogen teased.
Her words were loud and clear this time. Her meaning clear. "You're at home?!"
"Hi, Daddy," she greeted sweetly, and I prayed to the God I just barely believed in most days that she was just employing scare tactics. God must have recognised me from the absentee lists for Sunday mass for the last umpteen years, though, because the voice that replied in the background was none other Brandon Haze, asking where I was.
"Dad want's to talk to you," Imogen informed me in the unmistakeable tone of a child who has recognised that another child is in trouble.
I didn't have a chance to steal myself for Brandon's wrath before his terse voice was forcing it's way into my ear. "Why is my daughter home alone?" he demanded.
I grit my teeth, reminding myself that it wasn't my fault she was home alone. "Why don't you ask Imogen?" I replied, working hard to remain calm.
"Because I'm asking you, Stephanie," Brandon assured me in his no-nonsense town.
I sighed heavily, plopping down on the low stone wall of the house I was passing. "She ran away from me," I admitted. "I've been trying to find her for the last –" I checked my watch. "- half an hour."
"She ran away from you?" he repeated.
As calmly as I could, I explained what had transpired since Imogen and I had left the park. I knew he was judging me, preparing to rip me a new one, to declare that if I couldn't even catch a nine-year-old then what the hell was I doing in fugitive apprehension. I may as well call a cab and go pack my bags now, because there was no way he was going to continue to train me after this.
"So what you're saying," Brandon said slowly, calmly, the ire from a few moments ago eerily absent. "Is that Imogen ran away and you couldn't catch her?"
I rested my head in my hand. Ready to give up. "Yes."
A soft sigh caused a burst of static in my ear. "Just get back here, we'll discuss this face to face."
I could sense that he was about to hang up, so I had to voice the problem with that instruction quickly. "Wait, wait, wait," I pleaded, surging to my feet again. "I, uh, got a little turned around while I was searching for Imogen. I have no idea where I am or which way your house is in."
"Google Maps, Stephanie," Brandon said crisply, enunciating the three words more than I'd every heard. "Figure it out." And then he did hang up.
*o*
By the time I managed to find my way back to Brandon's house twenty minutes later, I'd prepared mentally prepared a speech to apologise for the incident and for having wasted his time for the last six weeks. I was ready to be read the riot act and be kicked out. I had even done a quick check of cheap flights back to the States in the next twenty-four hours, just for good measure. But what I was met with was a very tired looking father at his wits end.
"Head on through to the kitchen," he said, stepping aside and waving me through. "We waited dinner for you."
This took me by surprise. I'd been expecting to have dinner denied. I was expecting for them to have already eaten. I was expecting zero hospitality. What the hell was going on here?! "Oh," I said by way of reply as I sidled past Brandon in the narrow hallway. "Th-" Whatever I'd been about to say died on my lips as I step through to the kitchen and was confronted by a blotchy faced little girl sitting at the table. "Imogen? What's wr-"
"Take a seat," Brandon requested, entering the room behind me. He hit a few buttons on the oven before taking his own advice and sitting on the side adjacent to Imogen, leaving me to sit opposite her. "Imogen has something she needs to say to you," he informed me once we were all assembled.
I turned my eyes, which must have been the size of trash can lids at this point, to look at the girl. She was obviously upset and had been crying, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why she would have a reason. I was the one who'd fucked up. I hadn't been able to keep up with her. I-
"I'm sorry for running away, Stephanie," Imogen hiccoughed, a new tear appearing on her lower lash lines.
"Hey," I intoned, lowering my pitch to what I hoped was a soothing note as I reached across the table to where her arms were propped against it, folded tightly. "It's okay. It's not your fault. I couldn't keep up and then when I couldn't find you, I got turned around."
Brandon grunted, folding his own arms over his chest as he gave his daughter a look, so full of meaning and admonishment, so familiar, that I thought for sure there was some international parental disappointment seminar that both he and my mother had studied.
"No," she sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "It is my fault. I did it deliberately. I-"
"No harm, no foul," I assured her. I just couldn't stand seeing her so upset. Having her scowl at me non-stop was one thing, but the tears! My heart was breaking for her all over again. "We'll okay, and that's what matters."
"I promise I won't do it again," she pledged. "I promise. Please don't hate me. Please. I'm sorry."
Woah. Woah. WOAH. Hold up a minute. Please don't hate me? And I thought I had low self esteem! "Imogen," I said softly. "I don't hate you."
"But I was so mean to you!" she wailed. "I was mean to you today. And I've been mean to you every day since you came. And it's not nice! I'm a bad girl and I deserve to be punished. I deserve to be hated. I deserve to be left behind. I-"
I cut my eyes to Brandon. Something told me this was not what he had predicted would come out of her mouth once he sat us all down. It was one thing to get a child to realise what they'd done wasn't right and apologise, it was another thing entirely for the child to start saying that they deserved to be mistreated for it. And saying that she deserved to be left behind? I immediately thought of what Brandon had told me about what had happened with her mom. The poor girl was so traumatised by her past that she didn't believe she deserved to be loved!
Without a word, Brandon scooped his daughter into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen. The sound of her agonised wailing piercing both my ears and my heart as they retreated further into the house. I was left at the kitchen table, my heart aching more than I thought possible. It hurt more than when I learned all the measures Ranger had installed to safeguard his company against me behind my back. I hurt more than when Joe had announced that we were through for good. It hurt more than when I caught Dickie on the dining room table with Joyce Barnhardt. It hurt more than when my mother told me the reason Dickie cheated on me was because I was failure as a wife just as I'd been a failure of a daughter. Because as much as those events would always cause an ache in my chest, a lump in my throat, a tear in my eye, they were nothing in comparison to watching that precious little girl fall apart just now.
Helen Plum may not be winning any awards for mother of the year any time soon, she may have been a direct source of antagonization for my entire life, but she still showed that she cared. It was in her actions more than her words that I knew that she loved me. It was in the cakes she baked me for special occasions, the way she started packaging up dinner leftovers to send home with me without asking if I wanted or needed them. She may drive me crazy with her burg gossip and nagging, but even that was just another avenue for displaying how much she worried about me. It must be awful to not know if I was okay every time she got a call peddling the terrifying news that I'd been involved in yet another car bombing, or shoot out, or God knows what else.
But Imogen…
Imogen was living every day with the knowledge that her mother had left her and her father and never looked back. And it weighed heavily. That was why my heart ached. Because this girl deserved a mother's love so much more than I did. She was just a child!
After a several minutes her wails calmed to sobs, eventually quieting into hiccups, then light sniffles and the occasional cough. I could hear Brandon's low rumbling voice calming her, talking her through her pain, helping her deal with emotions that were just too big for her small body to handle. And then there was silence. By the time Brandon's soft footsteps were making their way back toward the kitchen, I had the kettle on the stove and was desperately trying to remember what Aunt Beth had taught me about tea as I stared into the tin of loose leaves.
"She's asleep," Brandon sighed, sinking into the chair Imogen had occupied before her breakdown. He looked exhausted "I'm sorry you had to see that."
"Sorry why?" I asked, my brows drawing together in confusion.
For the first time since I'd met him, Brandon was at a loss for words. He stared at the table, his mouth trying to out vowel shapes as his hand wandered aimlessly through the air for a second. "I don't know," he said eventually. "I just wish she didn't feel that way."
"Me too," I agreed, abandoning the tea leaves. "But you're doing the right thing," I pointed out. "You're getting her the help she needs. Things are bound to get better with time."
He gazed at me for a full minute, looking like he was doing complex math in his head, before he sighed and shook his head. "I hope so," he breathed. "I really hope so."
Because the conversation was veering way too far into the emotional topics I preferred to steer clear of, suddenly found myself asking, "So her disappearing act this afternoon wasn't a test of your own creation to see how well I put my training into practice?"
This garnered a half laugh from Brandon. "I wish," he said. "Then I wouldn't have had have the stern conversation with her, and she wouldn't have been upset and guilty, it wouldn't have brought up all the shit with her mum and she wouldn't have cried herself to exhaustion. And really, it wouldn't have been a fair test anyway. The area where she managed to lose you is where she learned Parkour over the summer. She knows the ins and outs of those streets better than you know the flavours of Krispy Kremes."
That explains it.
*insert free, socially-distanced hug for all those who could use one right now* Stay safe, guys.
