wow. definitely a much more positive response than i was anticipating! i'm glad you all enjoyed, and i hope you like stef's pov as much as you seemed to like callie's :)
as usual, nothing you recognize belongs to me.
Please, don't let this line go slack/I want to bring you back to where I know you
Oh, wait, don't give up on us yet/I just want you to let you let me hold you
Wait, wait, wait, my love, just one more thought/Wait, wait, wait, my love, I haven't got
Time in my life, to watch you drift away/But I've all kinds of time - all kinds of time - if you'll stay
Vienna Teng, "Transcontinental (1:30 AM)"
Even though I'm finally back at work, I'm still restless and on edge. Perhaps some of that has to do with the fact that my older daughter is still missing, or that my youngest won't talk to anybody, or that my oldest has been brooding for fourteen solid days, or that my younger daughter hasn't eaten a full meal in a fortnight, or that her twin brother hasn't cracked a joke all month, or that my wife is a complete mess of emotions...
Yeah, okay, there are a lot of reasons to be on edge. I am so mad at that girl, and so scared I'll never see her again, and so -
I get up from my desk and make my way to the break room for some coffee. I realize the absurdity of getting caffeine to soothe my jitters, but it's about the only thing I can do that isn't paperwork. I hate paperwork.
The station is pretty much empty...everybody else is either off today or out on the beat, because it's literally me and three rookies in the bullpen.
I nurse my coffee quietly, leaning against the laminate countertop to rest a moment. Suddenly, there's a face in the doorway, and I smile at Officer Parker.
"Hey, Abby," I say. She's a sweet kid - a rookie, almost two years blue, and I like her a lot. She's determined and strong, but she cares about people, which is very important to me. She's a good cop. "What's up?"
She runs a hand through her dark, cropped hair, and I feel anxious. "I got an interesting call, just now, from a guy at the Fort Wayne PD?"
"Fort Wayne? As in-"
"Indiana," Abby confirms. My breath catches in my throat. "And he says he picked up this foster kid - a girl - about an hour ago, who he thought was skipping school. But the kid says she's sixteen, that she dropped out, and his partner took the kid out for a walk so he could check her bag for ID-"
"Why didn't he just ask her?" I feel riled; shocked and angry that this guy would invade my daughter's privacy (that's my job), but then I realize that I don't even know if it is Callie. Please, god, let it be Callie.
"He says he did, that she told him she didn't have any."
I nod, knowing that we haven't had time to get Callie into driver's ed. I almost snort thinking how much longer it'll be before that happens, after this stunt. "She doesn't."
Abby looks at me in what I take to be sympathy, and continues. "Anyway, the backpack had an Anchor Beach keychain on it, so he looked it up and called us, since it says on the website that the school is in San Diego."
I can't breathe. My whole body has shut down at the thought that this is maybe, probably, possibly my daughter, and that I know where she is and how to get to her. "Is he still on the phone?" I choke out, hoping the answer is yes.
When Abby nods, I race past her to get to the info desk up front. I pick up the receiver and take the call off hold.
"Hello?" I'm breathless and desperate, but I honestly could not care less what this guy thinks of me.
"Hello, I'm Officer Alexander Luchey with the Fort Wayne Police Department, badge number 32491," he tells me.
"This is Officer Stefanie Foster, San Diego PD," I introduce myself. "Do you have my daughter?"
"I sure hope so, ma'am," he quips, and I smile a bit. "This girl has been giving me grief all afternoon, and it sure would be nice to hand her back to someone who can deal with that. Handling teenage sass is not in my job description."
He sounds so serious and earnest that I can't help but chuckle. "That sounds like my girl," I say, and the smile slips off my face. "Can you give me a description?"
"Sure thing," he replies. "Let's see...shoulder-length hair, brown; close-set large eyes, also brown; Caucasian, female, approximately fifteen years old; um...oh, she had a scar - well, a dent, really - in the middle of her forehead, from the hairline down about half way."
That sounds like Callie, but I want to be sure. "Did you notice what she was wearing? Can you give me a description of the backpack and/or the contents?"
"Um, she has a hoop through the middle of her left ear," he says, and I gasp a little. "She's got a gray jean jacket on, and a sweater and some pants. Oh! And she kept fiddling with her necklace...it's gold, with a little medallion. I couldn't see what was written on it...just looked like a bunch of squiggles, to me."
It's her. It's got to be. "Can I talk to her?" I ask, my voice weak.
"She went to the-oh, no, here she is now," he says. I hear him talking to someone, but he must have muffled the phone because I can't make out what he's saying. There's an extended pause, and then the phone changes hands.
"Hello?" A soft voice comes over the line, and it sounds so much like Callie that I can barely control myself.
"Callie? Oh, my baby, is that you?"
The next pause makes me shake with fear. What if it isn't her? What if it is?
"Stef?" Her voice is so tentative, so unsure, that I am absolutely livid at the fact that I can't scoop her up in my arms right this second.
"Oh, my sweet girl," I breathe, feeling calm for the first time in roughly one-hundred and eighty hours. "Are you safe? Are you hurt? Have you been eating? I am coming to get you!" I'm babbling, something I rarely do, but there are so many things I feel as though I need to say to her, to make her understand... "You are in so much trouble, my friend, with your mama and with me. And with all your brothers and your sister, for that matter, but...you're coming home, sweets. It'll be alright."
"I'm...I'm sorry," Callie whispers, and my heart aches.
"I know, baby. It's okay. We'll talk about it when I see you."
"But I-" she stops, and I'm struck by a horrifying thought.
"You're coming home," I intone, letting her know that there is no room for argument.
"Haven't you...you've been better off without me?" She asks this as a question, and I'm not sure what she's hoping the answer will be.
"Of course not!" I practically yell, but then realize that she's fragile enough. "Of course not, Callie," I say, in a much nicer tone. "Oh, sweetheart...Lena misses you. Mariana and Jesus miss you. Brandon and Jude miss you. I miss you, so much. We're not a complete family without you, my baby."
"B-but-"
"We'll talk about this later, love. Later and forever and we may never stop talking about this, but we will never let you go. We love you, Callie. You know this, yes?"
The fact that she pauses breaks my heart. "Um..."
"It's alright, Callie," I say, trying not to let the sadness overtake my voice. "We'll work on it. Will you please put Officer Luchey back on the phone?"
"Stef?" she asks.
"Yes, my baby?"
"I really do...I mean, I want to...I didn't mean to ruin everything, again," she whispers, and tears fill my eyes. "I want to be better."
"Oh, Callie," I breathe. "I know. It's okay. We'll fix it, okay? We'll fix it together."
"Okay. Um, here's Alex."
The line changes hands, again, and the male officer I talked to before is back. "Officer Luchey?" I ask.
"Please, ma'am, call me Alex," he replies.
"Alright, then call me Stef. Listen, I'm ready to come and get her, but it takes a few days to get to Fort Wayne by car-"
I quickly pull up a list of flights from Lindbergh Field to Fort Wayne. There aren't any. I then look for any flights leaving from San Diego to Indiana.
"I can get to Indianapolis by 7 PM, your time," I tell him, tapping my foot nervously. "Is there any way Callie can get out there?"
"It's about a two-hour drive down," Alex says, "but I'm happy to take a road trip-"
He pauses, and I hear commotion down the line.
"Stef?" he asks. "Actually, my partner, Olive Cho, is more than willing to chaperone. Her brother and his wife live in Indianapolis, and she's going to surprise her nephews and niece with a little visit. Are you sure you can make it there tonight?"
I've never been more sure of anything in my life, I think. "Absolutely. Please, thank your partner for me. I'll see her tonight. Will you put Callie back on the phone?"
There's a beat before I hear, "Any instructions, Officer?"
I try not to laugh, as this really isn't funny. "You'd better get yourself to the airport in one piece, young lady," I scold, but I can't keep the lightness out of my voice. "I'll see you tonight. I love you, Callie."
"See you tonight, Stef. Bye."
"Bye, baby."
I hang up the landline, and speed dial my wife as I pull out my credit card to make the purchase.
"Stef?" Lena answers after the first ring.
"Hello, my gorgeous wife," I say, full to bursting with relief and anticipation.
"Stef, what happened?"
"I'm going to get her, Lena. She's in Fort Wayne, and I'm flying out there tonight. I'm going to bring Callie home, love," I get out, and the emotions finally overwhelm me. "Oh, Lena," I sob, thankful that no one is around to witness my collapse. "She sounded so defeated. She thought...she honestly thought that we'd been doing well without her."
"Let me come, too," Lena demands. "Let me-"
"Lena," I interrupt. "We have four other kids that need you."
I hear her sigh, and I feel guilty.
"I would love to have you come with me, love," I tell her. "I would love to see the look on Callie's face as she receives her very first patented mamasandwich when we meet her at the airport. But I don't want to spook her, Lena," I murmur, hoping she'll understand. "She was so frightened."
"I get it," Lena finally says. "And she's more likely to open up to you, anyhow."
"That's not true!" I sputter. "I'm bad cop! You're understanding mama. There's no way-"
"Stef," Lena's laughing, a little. "She respects you. She knows that you respect her. I don't think...I don't think I've proven myself, yet."
"But...I...but," I stumble over my words, unsure how to convince my wife that she is the better half.
"Stef," she interrupts. "I'm okay. Book your flight, and we'll see you soon. Do you need me to bring you anything?"
I have roughly thirty minutes to get to the airport. I have an extra set of clothes in my locker, another in the trunk of my car, my wallet, and my badge. I would rather not have enough stuff than miss my chance to bring Callie home. "No, I'm fine. I wish I could kiss you goodbye, though."
"All the more reason to get that girl back here ASAP," she says. "And Stef-"
"Yes, love?"
"Tell her I love her."
"Oh, babe, of course. And I love you," I whisper, holding her voice close to me.
"I love you too. Safe travels."
"Thank you, Lena. Talk to you soon."
After I hang up the phone, I wonder about Callie. I wonder how she'll react to my questions - how she'll react to knowing that I'm done with letting sleeping dogs lie. There is no more time for secrets in this family, because secrets have been tearing us apart. First Mariana, then Jesus, then Brandon, now Callie...I chuckle darkly to think that the only child who hasn't been keeping secrets is sweet, loving Jude, who warmed up to us the very first time we met. How I wish Callie could've remained as innocent...how I wish I knew why Jude still was.
I remove my hair from the tight French braid that keeps it out of my face while I'm working. I pull my waves back into a ponytail and begin removing my uniform, replacing each piece with plainclothes from my locker. I take my badge off my belt, place my unloaded gun and holster on the top shelf of my cubby, and throw the duffel over my shoulder.
The drive is a blur, and I move mechanically through each phase of the airport. It's when I try to pass through security that I meet my first hurdle.
"Officer Stefanie Foster, SDPD," I explain to the surly TSA agent who pulls me from the line. "There's a bullet by my spine." I lift up my shirt, as if to prove it, but he continues to pat me down.
"Look," I whisper darkly. "I understand that you're just doing your job, but my flight leaves in fifteen minutes, and if I don't get on that plane, my daughter will-"
I choke back a sob. "Please," I beg. "Hurry."
His eyes flicker to my badge, then my face, then back again. "You're all set, ma'am," he tells me, and I race to grab my bag from the conveyor belt on the other side.
I'm thankful for the training course I had to complete before resuming my job, because if I had been out of shape at all, I would've missed my plane. As it stands, I get the very last aisle seat, right in the front, and I stow my duffel in the overhead compartment before sitting down and buckling the seatbelt across my hips.
There's a mother and baby sitting in the window, and a young boy sitting next to me. He's got the tray table unfolded, and he's running his toy cars across the surface.
I smile, thinking of Brandon when he was that age. He loved his matchbox collection more than anything. I wonder what Callie liked when she was five. My heart clenches to think of her, and I barely even notice the take-off.
Callie has been such a mystery since she came to us, and I want to figure her out before I see her again. I think back to the very first day we met.
"So, you're dykes," Callie says, and I pull the beer can away from my lips. I barely even noticed her sitting there - she's been completely silent, watching us.
"Who's this?" I ask the room, a bit stung by the severity of her words. Looking at her closely, though, there's no menace in her eyes. Her split lip, swollen cheek, and mottled complexion alert me to the fact that she's been in a fight, but I would like to know why and with whom. Did she instigate the attack? Why didn't anyone mediate before it reached a tipping point?
And her eyes...they're wide, and so dark. But they're soft, too...she doesn't mean what she's saying. I notice Lena trying to hold back a laugh, and I realize that she knows what I know - this girl, who I'll later learn is named Callie, is just trying to get a rise out of us.
She did, too, at least from me. Her sassy, sharp interruptions bothered me at first. And then I saw her with Jude, and I knew that she was a good person. No one goes out of their way - putting themselves in danger in the process - to protect someone else if it isn't love. The way she held him close to her, whispering soothing words of comfort in his ear, told me then that she knew how to love.
But now, it dawns on me that perhaps it doesn't go both ways. Maybe Callie does know how to love, but I don't think she has any idea how to be loved.
And suddenly, all the pieces fall into place. Her tentative smiles when we posed the adoption. Her terrified glances at us during that joke of a trial. Her flinches and shudders and retreats when we try to hug her, or cuddle, or display our affection for her. Why she was so uncomfortable buying a dress for the wedding. Why she went right to bed after telling Lena and me about Liam. Why Brandon - oh, dear. I wonder if Brandon knows that Callie is not in love with him. I wonder if Callie herself knows?
I have so much still to think about that it almost irks me when the plane begins to land. Then I realize that Callie will be there when I do. Callie will be safe in my arms once more. Callie will be home.
