6

Present

Laura jerked awake with a start, her eyes darting around the dark room only lit by a few embers left from the fire. "It's not happening," she murmured as she felt around for the reading lamp with her hands. It only cast a small glow across the room, but enough to make Laura rub her eyes until they were used to it. Then she glanced at the watch she wore on her wrist to check the time. It was well past one a.m. and Gracie had been missing for almost twelve hours, but at least they had an idea of where she might be.

Not that it was helping any. Laura could recall a bittersweet memory, when she was younger, probably a little older than Gracie, that she'd tried to run away, mad at both her parents for something or other. When her father had found her curled up in the tree next to Frances' old bedroom window, her mother had hugged her like she was dead and brought back to life. All Laura could think was that she understood now.

A quiet knock at the door brought her out of her reverie. She looked up at it, unmoving as she locked her eyes on the door and didn't remove them. Laura finally jumped to her feet, realizing that the neighbors might find it odd to see a man outside her house at one a.m., and unlocked the lock, allowing him to step inside.

Nothing could have prepared her for the moment she would come face to face with the man himself. At that moment, she knew it was inevitable, that once she laid eyes on him again, she would never be able to go back to her life normally. Shocked into silence, Laura could only stare at him, as he with her. In the darkness of the night, his eyes, always the same, whether in her dreams or memories, seemed to glow like brightly polished gems. His eyes were haunting and soul searing, the only thing that could pain her more than the memories she'd just relived minutes before. And his face…the curve of his jaw was sharp, the lines detailing his forehead more defined, and all was looking worn. More slender, if possible, indicated that he, like her, was suffering.

Harry noticed her shocked demeanor at seeing him. And yet…he was just as entranced by her. He drank in all the features he had longed to see, to touch, and not those in his memories, but those only a true to life look at her could bring him. The bare amount of light caused the shadows to play on her face. She wore not a smile, but a close-mouthed stare. Laura's brown hair seemed to surround her face, casting the glow of a million different colors, while her eyes, the windows to her soul stared straight back at him. By seeing her eyes, he could feel a spark that indicated there was still a chance…a chance that the feeling was still there. He silently dared her to speak, wishing to hear her lilting voice, as he had once put it, and be able to put it with the face in person. Harry wanted to touch her, to verify it wasn't just another dream, but reality, but he didn't dare break the connection for fear he wouldn't get it back.

Finally finding her voice, Laura said quietly, "Come on in."

He stepped inside, admiring the house, trying to get past the awkwardness both felt. Through the door, Harry looked around the living room, wandering past the fireplace, the couch and chairs until he came to stand at the hand-carved bookshelf. His hand scraped the bindings of the books as he looked over them, then turned back to face Laura. He'd almost forgotten what he had wanted to say to her, how angry he'd been about Gracie, and the feelings held deep in the crevices of his heart.

"I don't know where to start," he said as he removed his jacket and held it in his arms.

"I do. What do you know about Gracie?"

"Laura, stop being so angry with me. If anyone should be angry, it ought to be me."

She almost opened her mouth to get into it, but for the moment, she weighed the options: knowing about her daughter, or arguing with her daughter's father. Choosing the former, she sat on the edge of the couch and waited for him to speak. "Sean has her, we know that. He told me to tell you that she's safe."

Without knowing it, Laura let out a breath of relief. "I heard her talk," he continued. His voice softened as he spoke again, "She has the most amazing voice," he said like a proud father. "She asked me if I was her father. Then she added 'because the man said you are and Michael isn't my dad'. Sean hasn't told me what he wants, but I suspect it's about revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Laura asked.

"Revenge for his daughter's death when she was eleven. Maryn."

"So he's going to use Gracie against you because he blames you?" she guessed.

He nodded. "He said no police and he'll contact us later."

"What happened with Maryn?" she asked, and immediately realized she'd struck a chord.

"Maryn would be about our age had she not died," he said quietly.

"Tell me. Please," she urged.

Taking a breath, he said, "When I was about, oh, nine or ten I suppose, I was living on the streets in Dublin, having just run away from some people who claimed to be my cousins. I found a few friends on the streets, no one you'd really want your kids to play with, but they were kind to me. But, of course, I had to find a way to make a living of my own, so I started to pick pockets. This was a while before I met Daniel, so I was doing the best I could, trying to learn from my friends, but by a stroke of bad luck, one day, I picked the wrong man's pocket. Sean," he said with a bleak smile.

"And what happened?" she asked solemnly from her seat on the couch arm, only feet away from where he stood reliving painful memories.

"Sean, at the time, was a wonderful man. He took me to a café down the street, and though it was dingy and cheap, it had the best hot food I'd ever tasted. Perhaps it was that I hadn't had hot food in a few months or maybe it was just I could taste the gratefulness since he hadn't turned me in yet," he said with a regretful smile. "I didn't trust the man right away, but he slowly won me over while he gently, but firmly talked some sense into me. Meanwhile, I gobbled down as much food as I could, because I didn't know how long it would be before I had any again."

"He gave me two options: stay on the streets, or return the money and he'd help me to a better life. I had no idea what he was talking about, but when he brought me to his house that night, I felt pretty lucky. He was going to allow me to stay in his garage apartment and help out around the house, where they ran a small bed-and-breakfast, because his eleven-year-old daughter, Maryn couldn't do it all herself. He had no wife, no woman around the household, but with my limited skills, things started to get better."

"Why didn't you continue to stay there?" she pried.

Holding up a finger, he kept going in an anguished voice. "My first crush was on Maryn. Oh, I knew she was off limits, but she was the sweetest, kindest person I'd ever laid eyes on who was a girl. Maryn had dark green eyes with long eyelashes," he said with a face that seemed to suggest he was seeing her right before his eyes.

"And her hair was long and beautiful and silky to the touch. My friends would have laughed had they seen me, because sometimes, I even brushed her hair for her. We talked too, so much so that I knew all her most private and deepest secrets not even her other friends knew. But a few months after I'd cleaned up and came to stay in the garage, I decided to sneak out, just for fun, to see if I could do it. Maryn, from her bedroom window, could see me. We even had a secret system so I could tell her stories at night, after Sean had safely tucked her in. She caught me leaving and threatened to tell Sean if I didn't let her come."

Pausing for only a moment, Harry then continued, "I'd already decided to see a movie at the theater with the little bit of allowance I received, so I couldn't turn back then. I gave in and allowed her to accompany me. We saw the Maltese Falcon at the theater, and by the end, she was raving about how good it was. She'd never seen it before that. When we reached home, I received my first kiss from a girl. On my cheek," he added. "Then she entered the house while I stood, watching her go, awestruck and delighted."

He stopped. "I don't think," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Harry cleared his throat as he looked downwards. Laura, without thinking, reached out and touched his arm. He looked up again, staring straight into her deep eyes. "That was the last time I saw her alive. I waited a few minutes, waited to see her signal that she was safely in her room, but it didn't come. So I again left the garage, went down to the front of the house, only to see a few of Sean's drinking buddies slipping out of the house. I went inside to see the rooms cleared out of anything valuable, only one picture of Maryn and I left with the glass smashed, lying on the floor in the middle of the room."

"I guessed his friends had cleaned them out, but I was too worried about Maryn to go get Sean. So I crept along the hall until I got to Maryn's room. I had never been allowed there before, but I felt fear for one of the only times in my life. When I opened the door, I flicked the light switch on the wall and," he said trembling. "And I found her lying on the floor, bleeding profusely, already gone. If I had just gotten there five minutes before," he choked out.

"It wasn't your fault," Laura whispered.

"I picked up the knife Sean's buddies had used in a rage when Maryn wouldn't indulge them with whatever they wanted. At that moment, Sean walked in, and seeing me, holding a knife covered in Maryn's own blood, kneeling next to her, with her nightgown pushed up… He took it the wrong way and went mad, hitting me over and over, thinking that I had done it to the only girl I had ever had a crush on. I screamed over and over again, 'I didn't do anything!' but he didn't listen. I took off, not bothering to get any of my things, and I just never went back. I wandered around until I found another way to live off the streets, with someone new," he said as he looked downward again.

The room became almost silent, except for Harry's labored breathing. Laura couldn't help but to feel touched that again, he managed to share with her a piece of his terrible past when she needed to hear it. "I have something to show you," she said as she stood.

Making her way over to the bookshelf, she took a binder covered in creamy white lace in her hands. Then she motioned for Harry to follow her up the stairs. She went down the dark hall, not bothering to turn any lights on as she led him past a messy room covered with action heroes that made it obvious it was her little boy's room. They passed another room, with the door shut; that he guessed was Laura's.

She stopped at a room with artwork covering the door, sketches of people and nature, and paintings that seemed professional. "Is this?" he questioned, his eyes wide.

Laura nodded and opened the door, switching the light on as she entered. "This is Gracie's room. And this," she motioned to the book she held, "Is her baby book. I think it's time to get to know your daughter."

Harry sucked in a breath as he looked at the picture covering the front slot. A newborn baby, with tufts of dark hair looked up at him, staring him in the face. He passed the neat piles of clothing, the desk with art supplies and music books, and the two small bottles of silver nail polish to sit on her bed, which was covered in a mauve bedspread. Laura only stood near the doorway to stare at him, watching him uncover Gracie and her secrets.

"My turn," she said quietly, causing him to look up at her. "When our daughter was born, my life changed. For the good," she added with a half-hearted smile. "This," she pointed to a picture of Gracie lying on the couch, sprawled and asleep, "This tiny human being changed my entire perspective on, well, everything. I never thought I could be a mother. And I don't know about the job I'm doing, with all the piano recitals and school picnics I've missed, but Gracie and Luke don't seem to mind too much, because every night, they greet me with unconditional love and a bedtime story."

"I couldn't believe it," she said with a quiet chuckle, "When I brought this little person home from the hospital. And her first word… Do you know what her very first word was?"

Harry shook his head as Laura crossed the room to sit in the rocker that was still in Gracie's room though she was almost a teenager. "Her very first word was baby," Laura said. "Her first step, here," she said as she flipped the pages and pointed to a worn photo. "She was wearing a dress I had bought her and teensy white shoes that fit her just perfectly. We were taking a walk in the park, me leading her along. All of a sudden, her chubby little fingers let go and she just stepped…towards the sandbox. I just grabbed the camera and caught her at just the right moment, right before she took a tumble. Gracie didn't really seem to mind; she just got on her knees and started going again."

"She started piano because it was something she wanted, and art came naturally for her, so two years ago, I gave her an expensive sketchbook for her birthday. She's a dreamer, you know," Laura said with a downcast smile. "A few months ago, we had a mother to daughter talk about careers. Gracie didn't know what she wanted to do. Way down beneath, she's very curious and very ambitious. She would make a very good private investigator, but I'm not forcing her to do anything she doesn't want to do. She's been a tomboy mostly, but lately, she's been getting into playing with makeup and having girls-only sleepovers to play truth or dare."

Laura stood and went over to bureau and opened the top drawer. Reaching inside, she pulled out a medium-sized box and the leather-bound sketchbook from where she'd placed it safely earlier. "Then there's this," she said as she came back to stand next to him. "This is her box for everything important. Inside are her most prized possessions, including a ratty stuffed animal, a gift from Mildred, a picture of her, I and Luke, and eleven birthday cards from Murphy. And there's one other thing. This," she said as she opened the box and handed him a shirt he immediately recognized.

"That's my old shirt," Harry said.

"It was the only thing I could find left of yours after… Long before Michael, I explained to Gracie that her daddy was a good man who wasn't able to be with her. When she begged me for something of yours, I finally gave in and went digging in the attic, only to find this shirt. I knew you loved it, and it smelled just like you, so I gave it to her. She slept with it in her arms every night for the longest time. If she didn't have it, she cried buckets of tears," Laura said as she looked at her hands in her lap. "Then one day, it just stopped. She put it in her special box and that's where it stays."

Then Laura opened the sketchbook. She flipped pages to find the multitude of drawings Gracie had done. "Here." As Harry took the book and looked at the sketches with amazement, he couldn't believe the accuracy with which Gracie drew.

"Would you tell me something, truthfully?" Harry suddenly asked.

"I suppose."

"I know about her now, and she knows of me, but would you have told me if I hadn't found out on my own?" he asked.

"Honestly? I really don't know," Laura admitted.

"One more question? Actually, make that two," he frowned. "Michael?" he prodded.

"We're separated. Plain and simple, I'm fairly sure we'll be getting a divorce," she said without emotion.

"Why? What happened?" he asked.

"I don't really want to get into this right now," she said as she stood.

"Okay. Okay," he said softly.

"Your second question?"

"Now that I know about her, do I get to play a part in her life?" he asked as he looked over at Laura, who was again sitting closely next to him.

"I don't think I could take her from you. But you have to understand that she might not be comfortable right away with you. She doesn't know you, and I know that that's my fault, but you have to let Gracie get to know you before you can take over in her life as her father. She may never have considered Michael her real father, but I don't know what her reaction will be."

"I plan to stick around and take it slow. But there's one last thing," he said slowly. "What about you and I?" he asked as he looked at her with the same intensity as he had the first moment they'd locked eyes.

Swallowing, Laura asked, "What about us? Right now, this cannot be about us. Not while Gracie isn't here or safe or-'' she stopped mid-sentence. "I can't do this. Things are different now, but the history is still there and so is the pain. And this," she indicated, "Cannot happen," Laura finished. Then she bolted up, grabbing Gracie's baby book and leaving the room without a glance back.

He looked after her, then all around the room. "Not now. But we will get down to it, so help me God, we will."

*Okay, I don't want to beg, but please! I'm desperate for reviews, because without them, I don't know what you all think of this work of fiction! So please, please review, and also, thanks to those of you who do review, because I'm extremely grateful!*