9
Present
Much to her amazement, when Laura woke in her own bed hours later, her mind was clearer and she felt as if a small weight had been lifted from her chest. She'd slept past the quiet alarm, and, looking at the clock, she noted the exact time was six thirty a.m.
Crawling from the bed already less drowsy, she felt the dull ache pulling at her chest when she realized there was no need to hurry and get breakfast for the kids. It was the only meal of the day she fixed, which was usually cereal or pop-tarts anyway, she wryly observed. Patricia babysat during the summer, arrived promptly after breakfast, served lunch, prepared dinner for all three, and left for the evening only to do it all over again the next morning. Laura ought to call her and let her know she wouldn't be needed today either, she thought, making a mental note to do that after a quick shower and a cup of coffee.
Deciding to forego the latter for want of the former, Laura grabbed a fresh, cornflower blue towel from the rack and headed towards the bathroom on the upper level of the house. As the warmth of the water hit her, she instantly relaxed and tried to enjoy the feeling she knew wouldn't last long. When she was done, the bathroom quiet, Laura quickly threw a sweatshirt advertising the public school both Gracie and Luke went to over her head. Then she slipped on a pair of pants and started to leave the damp, foggy room, but it felt as though it was in slow motion.
Biting her lip, the dull ache grew as she leaned hard against the sink until her legs gave and she ended up on the floor's wet rug. Laura tilted her head to the side, squeezing her eyelids shut to keep the tears that threatened out. Her breathing became shallow as she put one hand over her heart and used the other to support it, as if it needed its own support system to keep it from falling over lifelessly. Laura's eyes still closed, the only sound she could hear was that of the voice inside her head, bringing to the surface every transgression she'd ever committed, the biggest, keeping Gracie from Him. And the only thing that she could think after that was that because of her mistakes, they might never meet.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Downstairs, Harry wandered into the kitchen and scoured the cabinets and countertops for ingredients for tea. Finding none, he settled for a caffeinated beverage that would hopefully calm his nerves and help him to shake off the unkempt, tired feeling he had after being up the entire night long. But it would all be worth it, he thought, when he was able to pinpoint the exact location Sean and Gracie were at. He was a fingertip's length away, and he could feel it right out of his reach.
Back in the living room, Harry booted up Laura's laptop and pulled up the file he'd created sometime before his third cup of coffee during the night. As he sifted through what he'd written, he couldn't help but wonder what he wasn't seeing. There just had to be something else, something that didn't fit, because he'd tried every possible angle there was. Sighing, he started over and began to look again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was only seven a.m., but Luke was already awake. He never told anybody, but he was always up early, unlike his sister who stayed in bed, fully asleep, until the very last second. The child looked around, realizing that he was in his room at his dad's house. He didn't like his dad's new house or, for that matter, his dad's new girlfriend. His parents had told him about the separation, what it meant, how it had nothing to do with him, and how they still both loved him. Gracie had explained it to him too and she had told him that they would probably get a divorce. He wished they had never gotten different houses, but he understood the best a seven-year-old could.
He woke up remembering about Gracie. His dad didn't seem very worried about Gracie, but Luke was scared. The wiry little boy was afraid his older sister wasn't coming back. But she would have to, he thought, cause she forgot her sketchbook. Climbing from underneath the green down comforter that was covered with airplanes, Luke slid onto the floor and went to the closed door of his bedroom. He rubbed his drowsy gray eyes and pulled up the thermal white and yellow pajamas that were a size too big, courtesy of his father. Strands of his dusky brown hair stuck straight up, adding a much-needed inch to his already small frame.
It was quiet morning; nothing made even the slightest sound, the halls and rooms were dark, and everything suggested that he was the only person in the house awake. His dad and Emmy's room was on the other side of the house and his dad's office was in the next room over. He started towards there while remembering a fight his dad and Emmy had had a while before about his dad's office. He had heard his father saying that he wasn't even divorced yet and already Emmy had her mind set on children and marriage. Emmy had wanted to turn the office into a nursery for a baby.
As Luke drew closer, he heard his father's voice and realized his father had probably been up for some time. Maybe he made chocolate chip pancakes for me, Luke thought, then felt quite guilty because his dad's pancakes were Gracie's favorite breakfast in the whole world. The door was cracked just a tiny bit, so Luke peered in at his father. He was sitting at the wooden desk, tapping the fingers impatiently on one hand and using the other to keep the phone pressed up against his ear. Luke decided to wait until his dad got off the phone to go in, so he sat on the carpet cross-legged and listened. However, the conversation caught his attention when he heard his sister's name uttered angrily.
"Sean, we agreed that you would only keep Gracie for a few days and then let me bring her home!" Michael spoke in a wrathful voice. "He wasn't supposed to come here and help Laura and she wasn't supposed to know about you! God dammit, I was supposed to bring Gracie back and look like the hero! How the hell am I supposed to do that now?"
Michael listened for a second, then yelled into the phone, "Bring her back here today! Get out of my cabin or I'm going to come get you and her myself!"
Furiously, the man slammed the phone down and put his head in his hands. For a few moments, Luke was too frightened to move. The boy bit his lip, trying not to cry. He began to shiver furiously and bit down even harder so that his teeth wouldn't shatter and give him away. Slowly, as silently as possible, he crawled from his cross-legged position and dashed down the padded hallway. When he reached his room, out of breath, he threw the covers over his shuddering body and tried to think about what to do.
In his seven-year-old mind, Luke began to formulate a plan. He'd just about finished when Michael tapped lightly on the door and entered. "Hey bud, you awake?"
Yawning, he pulled the covers down and looked up at his father, eyes wide. His mind knew perfectly well that his father had taken Gracie and that he couldn't be trusted, but his heart was having trouble. After all, the man was still his beloved daddy, and even dads make mistakes. But he would have to sort it out later, he reminded himself as Michael said, "How would you like to spend the day with Emmy? I have some things I have to do for work," he said gently, as though he hadn't just helped kidnap his own stepdaughter.
"Well, could I go home to mommy instead?" he asked in a small voice.
Michael hesitated; he had wanted Luke with him for a reason. If things with Sean went awry, he'd still have Luke. But he had chosen Gracie over Luke for several reasons, of which the most important was that he'd always suspected that because Gracie was Harry's daughter, Laura had a special spot for Gracie that didn't exist for Luke. He frowned, looking down first at his perfectly tailored suit, then at his young son, and in that moment, he decided. "Sure. Just let me call mom and I'll have Emmy drop you off in about half an hour."
He turned to leave, then as an afterthought, he said, "Why don't you get dressed and start packing?"
Luke was silent and unmoving. After his father was gone, he still sat, confused and shaking. Was it true? Was he supposed to tell? Who would he tell? The child rocked back and forth from the same spot where he sat, his stomach dangerously close to heaving upwards. Emmy pushed the door open with her foot a moment later, telling him they would leave in ten minutes. Then she was gone, and he pushed his way up, moving to the closet to gather his things from the night before.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Laura came down the stairs with damp hair framing her perturbed face. "Michael called a little while ago. He's going to bring Luke back here."
"Is that smart?" Harry asked, looking up from the laptop.
"He said that Luke wanted to come home. What was I supposed to do?"
"Okay." Taking a deep breath, he said, "I went over it again. Nothing."
Laura closed her eyes and leaned into the cushions of the couch, where she felt safe as she had when she was younger. "Do you want something to eat?" she asked.
Despite the dire situation, he chuckled. "Not if you're making it."
She opened her eyes to glare at him. "I have cereal."
"Why don't you take over, see if there's something I missed. I'll go make something."
A few minutes later, Harry was scrounging through the well-stocked cabinets and refrigerator for ingredients for omelets. He set the things he needed on the cutting board and lit the stove with a frying pan over the first burner. He reached into one of the wooden cabinets overhead and pulled from it a glass bowl, which he'd discovered earlier. From a silverware drawer, he pulled a Wisk, and then began to crack eggs into the bowl. To his surprise, when he looked up from doing so, he saw Laura leaning silently against the counter. He had the feeling that she didn't want to be alone with her thoughts any longer. He didn't say anything, figured the silence was comfortable enough to leave it be, so he continued to fix breakfast for them both.
A boisterous knock pulled Laura from the kitchen and into the living room again, where Emmy stood with Luke's bag wrapped around her shoulder and her hand on Luke's head. Luke hurtled himself at his mother's legs, wrapping his body into her hug. His voice was muffled when he told her that he missed Gracie and his hands were quick as he took his overnight bag from Emmy. "Bye," he called as Emmy turned to leave.
"Kiddo, there's a friend of mine here that I want you to meet. His name is Harry."
"Mom," he said as he pulled from her embrace, "I got to tell you something."
"What?" she asked as she dropped his bag on the couch and led him into the kitchen.
Luke stopped and stared as Harry turned to reach for the spatula, forgetting for a brief moment the message he brought. "Are you helping my mom find Gracie?" he blurted out.
"Yes," he answered evenly, without pause as he flipped the omelet and put it on a plate.
"Luke, why don't you go put your bag away? Are you hungry?"
Luke looked behind him as he walked towards the living room. "Yeah, dad and me didn't have breakfast, and Emmy didn't ask."
When Luke was out of hearing range, Laura turned back to Harry as he handed her a plate and fork. "He knows that Michael isn't her father. Don't tell him that you are, please?"
He nodded. "What does he like for breakfast?"
"He can have cereal. I'm going to take this in there so I look the stuff over again."
Harry didn't follow. Instead, he began to pull out the ingredients for pancakes with a few extras. When he glanced up, Luke was standing before the tiled countertop. "How come you haven't found her yet?" Luke asked as he pulled himself up on the stool.
He looked down at the boy's innocent face staring him in the eyes, and he answered honestly, "I don't know."
"Can I help?"
"Sure. Grab that spoon."
"No. I mean, I want to help you find Gracie," he said with quiet insistence.
"Do you like pancakes?"
"Chocolate chip ones. They're Gracie's favorites too. I can help. I know stuff."
"Chocolate chip it is. What kind of stuff do you know?"
"I know where she is."
Startled, Harry glanced up, dropping the eggshell he held in his hand. He reached down to pick it up off the tile, tossed it in the garbage, and looked back at Luke. "How do you know where she is?"
"I...my dad took her. He's mad at my mom. He wouldn't hurt her," Luke rushed to say.
"You mean Michael?" He frowned. "I don't mean to sound like I don't trust you, Luke, but I don't think..."
"No, he did. I heard him this morning. He was talking to somebody on the phone and he didn't know I woke up, but I heard him! I heard him and he said that he was supposed to bring Gracie back, but whoever he was talking to wouldn't, and my dad was going to be the hero. He said," Luke insisted, leaning forward and pushing on his wiry elbows, his gray eyes flashing.
Suddenly, Harry saw the missing piece. "Was the person he talked to named Sean?"
"Yeah, he told Sean that if he didn't bring her back, he would go get them."
"Luke, do you know where Gracie is?"
"My dad said that Sean should get out of his cabin or he was going to go get him, but Sean wouldn't, cause dad got really, really mad."
It made sense. That was all Harry could think. But how would Michael know enough about him, his past? Michael must have been digging for several years if he had come up with Sean. He looked down at Luke as he finished pouring the batter onto the griddle, then up when he heard a squeak, indicating to him that Laura was standing in the doorway, listening in. "Laura." It came out as a quiet remark.
She jerked herself from the wooden frame and walked over behind her son. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she hugged him to her, cold and shivering inside at the thought. "Luke, why don't you go put away your clothes and then come back for your pancakes?"
He slipped off the stool and didn't look back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The walls of the basement room seemed as though they had rough pieces of drab carpet nailed to them, though several pieces had worked their way free. That was how Gracie had discovered the boarded up crawl space that had been covered by a burnt red piece of carpeting. Fingering a woven strand that had worked itself free, she had ripped a chunk of it along the seams on accident and discovered the space. Carefully she pulled the boarding from where it latched into the wall and opened it to reveal a dark and musty hole. Gracie took a deep breath and convinced herself that there would be nothing to fear inside. The girl leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of anything, but all was covered in a layer of darkness.
She let the deep breath out as she pulled her head out and contemplated her immediate choices. If she was to go anywhere in the crawl space, she knew she needed to find out where it led, and she couldn't make her move until it became light outside or until the man came down. She didn't want him to come down while she was anywhere close by. Gracie leaned inwards again and tried to let her eyes adjust to the abrupt blackness, but it was to no avail. Sighing, she wondered if the old man knew about the space. "He couldn't," she muttered out loud.
Sean hadn't been down yet, and Gracie reluctantly left the crawl space, covering it with the carpet again, to wait for him on the bed. Perhaps he would bring breakfast, she thought, as her stomach growled ferociously. She placed the cuff back onto her wrist, leaving it slightly ajar so when the time came to leave, she could slip out of it easier. Then she settled, content to think only of a hot breakfast waiting for her back home.
