“But I need more time.” She had to draw the time out for as long as possible. Then again, maybe an imposed deadline would spur her on. She could go through her finds, each clue, study Bixby some more. Stop. Wait. Watch. And most of all... listen. But a month? No, impossible.
She couldn’t have Sophie returning to a houseful of strangers. New children sleeping in her bedroom. And the memories. What would become of the memories?
“Please, Cooper. Just packing up to move takes so much time. I have nowhere to go.”
“All right. Two months. But that’s it. I’m not kidding.”
More silence. “She’s there, isn’t she?”
“You mean Cynthia?” He called her Cynthia, as if using the formal name made her more intelligent. Jesse still called her Cindy, what she’d gone by when she was working for Cooper, wearing too-skimpy halter tops and shorts. Jesse remembered how they used to joke that she was an East Coast Valley girl. “Of course she’s here. She’s my wife.”
Jesse wondered if he ever thought of her. Of their life together. Before. Their early days in New York City, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They’d struggled financially, living in cheap East Village apartments, but life was fun and so full of possibilities. Years later, they’d stood atop East Chop Light on the Vineyard at sunset for their wedding ceremony then moved to Canaan. Bought the house. Had Sophie. Jesse could recall her infant daughter’s tiny hand grasping Cooper’s pinkie. Does he ever think of any of it?
More silence. Cooper must have covered the mouthpiece because Jesse heard muffled talking. Then he was back. “And you might as well hear it from me now. Cynthia and I are expecting.”
She gasped as if someone had socked her in the gut. “Expecting what?” she said after a moment, only because she didn’t know what else to say.
“A child, Jesse. Another child.”
“Funny how you only wanted one when we were together. Yes, I distinctly remember you being adamant about that even before That Day. ‘One child is enough.’ Your words.”
“I’m sorry, Jess. Things change. People change. We’re having another baby. End of story.”
After Sophie went missing, people were constantly giving unsolicited advice to her and Cooper. “Have another child,” they would say, as if Sophie were like a lost pet and getting a new one would be the perfect distraction. But she and Cooper were barely speaking, let alone having sex... with each other anyway. And then years after Cooper left her, those same people would stick their noses into her business again. “Lots of single women are adopting these days,” they said. But Jesse didn’t trust herself with another living creature. Not even a goldfish.
Jesse wasn’t jealous of their having a baby. She really couldn’t imagine ever wanting another child. Sophie could be difficult, and life with a special child was hard enough. They came with their own set of issues. Yet after reading a book about raising “gifted” children, Jesse had come to think of Sophie that way. It best explained her reading, writing, and creative skills that were way above average. The way she could absorb, retain, then linger in her bird world for hours on end. But she also fit into the “spirited” category—kids that some experts described as normal children who were just more sensitive, perceptive, intense, persistent, and more uncomfortable with change than other kids. And that certainly described Sophie. More. More. Much more.
No, what Jesse was jealous of was Cooper not only being able to imagine having another life but actually going ahead and having one. “You don’t sound too happy about it,” she said.
“Of course I’m happy. But it’s late and you—”
“What I want to know is how did you do it?”
“Do what, Jesse?”
“Get over Sophie.”
“I’ve told you before. I haven’t gotten over her. I’ll never forget her or stop loving her. I’ve moved forward. And that’s what you need to do. Get back to some of your old activities, things you loved to do. Gardening, sewing. How about your plein air painting?”
She used to drive out to Cummington or Shelburne Falls and plop her canvas stool down on a picturesque country road. She would take out her portable easel and paints then breathe in the air and scenery that always recharged her. Being outside in nature was always a treat. But she hadn’t done that in years.
“I’m not painting. You know that.”
“Well, you should get back to it. It would be good for you. Moving out of that old house will be good for you, too.”
She looked down at her ringless left hand. She’d finally removed her wedding band a couple of months ago. The tan line was visible on her ring finger, barely, but still there. That, too, would soon disappear with the rest of her old life—daughter, husband, house, marriage...
“You love Caleb more, don’t you? He’s filling up that Sophie spot, isn’t he?”
“I’m going to hang up, Jess. I’m tired of your wallowing in self-pity all these years. Have you once asked how I was doing? You’re not the only one who lost a daughter. You’re not the only one who’s been affected by it. I can’t talk to you when you’re drunk. You need help.”
“I’m not drunk." She could hear him breathing. “I had a little wine. One glass.” Jesse lifted the almost-empty bottle. “All right. Two.” She tilted her head back and let the last drops of wine slip into her throat.
She let the wine bottle drop to the floor. She’d wanted to tell him the other thing for so long. But still, she couldn’t. Instead, she said, “Don’t hate me.” Sophie used to say that after a tantrum, as her way of apologizing. Then Jesse and Cooper had picked it up as well, and it’d become an inside family joke.
“Jess, go to sleep. We’ll talk another time when you’re sober.” And he hung up.
It seemed inconceivable to her that a marriage could survive what she and Cooper had been through. She sank into her pillow, closing her eyes. The images that preyed upon her nightly came to her.
“But, Mom, I need it.”
“You need it? I don’t think so. You have lots of tops.” Jesse glanced away from the T-shirt rack and saw fall school clothes on the next rack. “Oh, honey. You do need some new school clothes. How about...” She let go of Sophie’s hand, still thinking about the morning’s argument with Cooper.
They were just back from their summer vacation on the Cape with the Silvermans. For the past five years, they’d rented side-by-side cottages in Wellfleet, and it was always the highlight of their year. Even though she and Cooper tried to put on a good face, she hoped that Blue and Beth hadn't picked up on the tension between them.
When Jesse turned back, she didn’t see her daughter. “Sophie?” She looked all around the T-shirt rack. “Sophie. Don’t play. Come on.” She searched under and behind it but found no sign of her. “Sophie?” Jesse walked around the whole store, her anger rising. Why does she have to pull this now? “Sophie!” She looked in the dressing rooms. She came back to the rack where she’d last seen Sophie. Jesse dropped to her hands and knees, peering between the clothes. Her heart beat faster by the second.
She began shouting, “Sophie? Have you seen my daughter?” to every shopper and sales clerk in the store. How long did I look away? Five seconds? Twenty? A minute? She stood in the middle of the Zone, clutching the Tweet shirt in her hands while strangers scurried about, looking for Sophie. Employees shouted, “Code Adam!” The overwhelming panic and fear rose in her chest as the impossible became a reality—she’d lost her daughter.
Jesse opened her eyes, trying to forget. Luckily, the wine would help her fall asleep sooner rather than later. Otherwise, she would lie awake for hours, replaying in her head the film from the Zone’s security camera. In the grainy black-and-white image, Jesse and Sophie stood next to the circular rack of clothes, holding hands. Sophie reached over and pulled out a T-shirt. Jesse letting go of her hand, turning away, and walking off camera as Sophie headed in the other direction then slipped out of frame. Gone. Forever.
Just a moment, a seco
nd or two of film, but it was ingrained in her mind. The slow-motion version of the clip was replayed over and over for the police then repeatedly on the nightly news. The mother let go of her daughter’s hand. It reminded Jesse of the famous clip of Patty Hearst wearing a beret, holding a machine gun. She knew how humiliated Patty must have felt.
Jesse’s precious good memories of her past had been bulldozed by the horrific ones. The store should have been called Twilight Zone because after That Day, Jesse felt like she was living in another dimension. What kind of mother loses a child?
In the beginning, suicidal thoughts kept sneaking up on her. She would try to imagine going through with it—car exhaust in a garage, knife to wrist, pills—but all she could think of was botching it, leaving a bigger mess for Cooper and her mother. But really, she didn’t want to die. She needed to be there if Sophie returned. When. When she returned.
She thought again of that girl from the Zone. She didn’t look any more like Sophie than other girls had over the years. The girl didn’t sound like Sophie, either. Then what was it?
She let her mind wander to some of her recent finds. That grocery list in the bushes on Main Street that included Cheerios, Sophie’s cereal. A purple scrunchie—Sophie’s favorite color—bubbling to the surface of her compost heap. The girl with the squeaky voice and funny haircut at the Zone chewing watermelon Sour Patch gum, Sophie’s flavor.
Some birds are elusive and particularly difficult to find... To find birds, you must pay close attention and be patient. Stop. Wait. Watch. And most of all... listen... Never stop looking. She shuffled through the clues, searching for a connection, the thread of a story, until she fell asleep.
Chapter Seven
Jesse woke to the sound of a dog barking, which didn’t help her hangover. She looked over at her clock. 8:28 a.m. Early for her. She sat up and pressed her palm to her forehead as the throbbing intensified. Tentatively, she got out of bed but tripped over an empty wine bottle. Cynthia and I are expecting. She kicked the bottle, which rolled under her nightstand next to the others. “Stupid,” she mumbled to herself.
She plodded down the stairs to see what the noise was all about. Her closest neighbor didn’t have a dog. So whose could it be? She pulled back the curtain on her front window and saw the rear end of an animal on her front porch. And she heard more barking. Slowly, she opened the door a crack, and there, sitting upright as if waiting for her, was a brown dog with floppy ears, wearing a red tartan collar. As it panted, its long pink tongue hung out of its mouth. Maybe part lab, part cocker spaniel. But all mutt.
“What do you want? Who do you belong to?” Her first thought was of the man who’d been by the day before. Is he back with a dog? She poked her head out farther and shouted out, “Hello? Anyone there?”
The creature’s ears perked up. She looked about, but there was no sign of anybody. She was surprised she actually felt a twinge of disappointment. She shook it away and gently reached her hand down in a fist and let the dog smell and lick it. She often didn’t speak to a soul for days if she didn’t have to go in to work, and she didn’t know how she felt about a visitor, even a non-speaking, furry one.
She filled a bowl with water and put it on the front porch. The dog lapped it up quickly. “Thirsty, huh?”
He had no tags. She wasn’t about to let in some stray. That was the last thing she needed. But he gazed up at her with big, soulful eyes. And he held his tail high, wagging it furiously, then let it thump on the ground rapidly as if trying to tell her something. He was clearly very happy to see her. She couldn’t help but smile.
“Hold on,” she said, closing the door partway and turning to get the sample package of kibble she remembered finding last year. The dog pushed the door open with its nose and trotted in.
“Hey, wait a minute,” she said, reaching to grab him, but he slid out of her grasp. He proceeded to sniff every surface then came back to Jesse and nudged her hand. “All right. All right.” She petted his head then his soft coat.
She rummaged around a box of her finds and pulled out the little bags of Iams she had found left or forgotten near her truck one day at the Book Barn. She poured the contents into a bowl, added a bit of water, swooshed it around, and set it down for the dog. He gobbled it up then came over to her. She petted him a little more. He seemed sweet.
“Do you know something?” she asked him. “Can you help me?” She looked up at the ceiling. “Sophie, is it you? Did you send this guy?”
He tilted his head, which gave him a questioning look that made Jesse smile again. Sophie had nagged for a dog and convinced Cooper to campaign for one, too. Even though Jesse had grown up with an array of loveable rescue mutts and loved dogs, her hands had been full with parenting. The responsibility, undoubtedly, would have fallen to her. As much as Sophie loved animals, Jesse would have been hard-pressed to pry her away from her binoculars in order to walk a dog. But maybe Sophie was ratcheting things up with living, breathing clues. That girl at the Zone with the watermelon gum. And now the brown dog.
The phone rang. As usual, her heart leapt. News about my daughter will come in a good way, for the good of all, with harm to none.
After That Day, Jesse always pounced on the phone, praying to hear Sophie’s voice or some news. But as time went on, there was less news and fewer friends calling to offer support. Just more wackos with phony leads or repulsive messages. So she’d started screening her calls.
After the fourth head-pounding ring, her answering machine picked up.
“Honey, it’s me.”
Mom. Jesse let out her breath.
“Pick up.”
As much as Jesse would have liked to ignore the call, she couldn’t. Her mom was one of the few people Jesse spoke to anymore. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, dear. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Oh, the usual. My tennis elbow is acting up. Silly, since I don’t play tennis. But could be worse.” Just like her to put a positive spin on things. “Sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in ages. How about I come for a visit?”
“Maybe next month.”
“It’s never a good time for you.”
“I’m just busy.”
After That Day, her mom had come to see her often, but eventually, Jesse had put an end to the visits with a series of excuses. The unspoken fact was that Jesse didn’t want to deal with her mom’s disapproving looks or offers to help de-clutter her finds. At first, her mom was willing to listen and seemed to understand the meaning of the finds, but as time went on, she drifted into the same toss-it-all-away camp as Cooper.
“You’re always busy.”
“Let’s not do this now, Mom.” The dog was rooting around in one of her boxes, poking his snout deep inside, making a racket.
“All right. But you know I miss you, and you’re always welcome here.”
“I know.” She fingered her favorite necklace, which she always wore. Cooper had given her the antique silver locket for her birthday years ago. “With Eternal Love” was inscribed inside in fancy script. Sophie had always played with it, sliding the locket back and forth on the chain around Jesse’s neck. Eternal love, right. She had actually believed it back then. She thought about telling her mom about Cooper’s house ultimatum, but she knew what her mom’s response would be. She would offer to come and help pack, clean up, and toss out. No, Jesse planned on getting more time from Cooper whether he knew it or not. She could tell her mom sometime down the road. “Listen, there’s news. Cooper and Cindy are having another baby.”
“Really? Well, good for them.”
“Good for them? God, Mom, whose side are you on?” She watched as the brown dog went upstairs, clomping up the steps slowly.
“Are we feeling a little ouchy today?” The annoying phrase was one of her mom’s favorites, which had unnervingly had found its way into Jesse’s speech with Sophie.
“No, I’m not ouchy. God, Mom.”
“Of course not.”
; “I’m not.”
“You need to let it go, dear. He’s not in your life anymore.”
“I’ve let it all go, Mom. There’s nothing left.” Jesse could hear the clickety-clack of the dog’s nails on the bare wood floor upstairs. It was odd having sound come from up there. She felt as if someone were invading her privacy.
“Well then, time to create a new life. I’ve done it.” Jesse’s dad had died a few years prior, after a sudden heart attack. Her mom had started over, moving out of the family home in Skokie into a modern high-rise in downtown Chicago. Jesse always thought her parents were the luckiest people because they had such a loving marriage. But her mom had surprised her by moving on so quickly. At least that was how it looked to Jesse. Her mom had made new friends and taken classes in art history and French cooking. She seemed happy. Jesse wondered if her mom ever thought about her dad the way she still thought about Cooper. Missing the old days and the good times.
“You can start a new chapter, dear. Maybe you need to step out of your comfort zone.”
Comfort zone? Do I even have a comfort zone anymore?
“What about that nice writer who’s interested in you?”
Blue had nicknamed the bespectacled bowtie-wearing writer from nearby Shelburne Falls Professor Pollen after his reading of his book, The Rise and Fall of the Honeybee, at the Barn a few months ago. Jesse had gone out that evening only to help Blue. The guy was apparently smitten with Jesse. Blue had even been leaving silly little notes and drawings for Jesse about Pollen. I should never have mentioned him to her.
“We don’t know if he’s nice, Mom.” Something crashed upstairs, startling Jesse. She stood up. “Listen, I’ve got this dog here. He’s getting into trouble. I’ve got to go deal with him.”
“You got a dog? That’s great. I bet he’s good company.”
“I’ll let you know. Bye, Mom. Talk to you later.”
“Call me. I want to hear about the dog. Love you.”
Sophie Last Seen Page 6
