My sister.
She was a platinum blonde all of a sudden, but still, I would recognize her anywhere. I told Isaac. He said something about not hanging up. I agreed.
I shoved my phone in my back pocket and took the coffeehouse door to the street.
“Drew!” I yelled.
She turned.
I pointed. “Ah-ha!”
She ran.
I ran.
I was on her heels. I could almost grab her shirtsleeve.
She grabbed a telephone pole and spun around, running the other direction.
I overshot her.
“Drew! Knock it off!”
Drew stopped, bent over, hands on her knees, to get her breath.
I caught up.
“How did you get here, sis?” She eyed me narrowly.
I gripped my side. “I have a car. What on earth are you doing?”
“I’m helping you grow up.” She grinned. “Looks like I’ve been doing a good job.”
“Drew, come on. Do you know what I’ve been through trying to find you?”
“Kiddo, whatever you’ve been through, you’ve needed. And what I need right now is breakfast. But I don’t need to eat it with you. I hope you don’t mind.” Her eye was on something in the distance. I followed the direction of her gaze and saw a small, vintage motorbike coming toward us. “Adios, kiddo.”
The motorcycle stopped in front of her, and she climbed on the back. She strapped a helmet on and waved.
I stared at her, because what else could I do? I never could talk my sister into anything. Which should have been a red flag when she agreed to come to Sweden with me. It really should have been. But how could I have kept her from getting on the bike?
The rider wore a black helmet with a mirrored visor. She also had cherry-red lips.
Marissa?
Things had just changed. But not for the better.
Isaac Daniels 10
I spent my first day of disciplinary leave sorting out my financials. Once I was tucked away in my tiny apartment on campus, they didn’t rush to kick me out. I packed my hiking backpack carefully. Two pairs of jeans. Two shirts. That kind of thing. Just enough to get me through two weeks. I put every item of food I could find at the top. I tucked all my ID and my confirmation numbers for the return trip home into the travel waist pouch that tucked under my shirt. I did a bank transfer, moving most of my savings into the checking account. As much as I intended to stay at cheap hostels, the only thing I knew for sure about hunting Dani Honeywell was that the hunt would not go according to my plan.
And since I could return to work in two weeks to redeem my good name by working for room and board, I also knew this adventure would bankrupt me.
If I could find the Honeywell girls, return them to school, and then work hard, teach well, guide young lives, maybe the school would take me on for a second year, paid again, and I could get back to the United States with some cash in hand.
And maybe, if I could not screw this up, I would find a way to keep the new thing I had going right now—the thing where I was incredibly thankful for God’s intervention in my life—going long term.
I wasn’t willingly going back to Portland empty handed and hearted.
I left the Tillgiven campus early evening and headed to Malmo to take a night train to the Continent. My train pass was good for the year, which was one expense I wouldn’t have to worry about. Also, if I timed things right, I could sleep on the train and avoid as many housing costs as possible.
Even if I did find the girls right away, I still had two weeks of housing to pay for.
The thin rays of a weak fall morning sun were just passing through the train windows when Dani called.
I stared at the phone.
She didn’t speak.
When she did, I didn’t follow her well.
Truth be told, I hadn’t slept well on the train and couldn’t be sure that I wasn’t still asleep.
We went back and forth for a few moments, me trying to be sure the call was real, and her trying to drum something into my thick skull. “Just, tell me where you’re at.”
She was searching the globe for her sister, which was a nightmare more than a dream. But if I could pin down her location and get her to promise to stay there, we could at least look for Drew together.
“I’m sitting in the coffee shop of the Premier Inn in Dover, the one with the big round tower, down by the ferry.”
I rubbed my eyes. I yawned. “Dover. Good. Can you stay there?”
“No.”
I pressed my fist to my forehead. I had to wake up. “Why not.”
“I have to leave as soon as I see Drew. I have to catch her.”
“Right, yes. Sorry. I’m not all here.”
“Did you guys make it back safely?”
I didn’t mind her changing the subject, so long as it kept her from hanging up. I had another twenty minutes before I got to Calais—which had been a good guess for the right place to go. “No, we didn’t. Si had a seizure and ended up in the hospital, and I got fired.”
Silence.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Sympathy, mostly. Some kind of acknowledgment that I had lost everything because I cared about her so much. Not that she knew that was why, or how. Not that I knew that was why, not for sure. But a little feminine sympathy would have felt good.
“I see her.” Dani’s voice was a hiss. “She’s right outside. I have to go get her.”
“Be careful. Don’t hang up.”
“Okay.”
The phone went silent. I couldn’t picture the scene, really, but it couldn’t be good. I kept the phone to my ear and closed my eyes.
The train stopped. I pulled on my pack.
Most of us got off here, with a lot of pushing and shoving. I kept the phone to my ear as I made my way out.
She started talking again while I put my feet on the solid ground.
“What? Hold on. It’s noisy here. What happened?”
“She freaking got on the freaking motorcycle and drove off with some girl with red lipstick. Some girl. Probably Marissa. What on earth is going on, Isaac? Why did they run to Gretna? Is that legal in the UK? Since when does she like girls? And what does she mean by ‘I’m helping you grow up’? I have no idea what is going on, but I am so mad!”
“I hear you. I’m not sure what to do about it, but I hear you. Just hold tight where you are. I’m just a couple of hours away, right? The channel crossing isn’t long. I don’t want you to leave. Can you do that?”
She sniffled.
I didn’t know that I had the wherewithal to handle the situation if she started crying. “If you think at all that she has stayed in the UK, then stay where you are.”
“Where else would she have gone?” She spoke through sniffles, but at least she spoke. She wasn’t weeping or anything else disturbing.
I scanned the walls for directions. A shuttle to the ferry would have been ideal. I didn’t recognize anything from my last trip. Had I gotten off at the wrong station?
I saw a sign. I was in the right place, but the wrong state of mind. I was panicking.
I stopped. Took a deep breath, and let it out my nose, slowly. It helped.
“I don’t know where she would have gone, Dani. You need to tell me if you are going to stay where you are so I can get to you.”
“Yes. I’ll stay.”
“Good. I am going to get to you, but I have to figure out how. So, just, hang out, and I’ll call back.”
“Wait. No. I’ll come to you.”
“Dani.” I held my breath.
“No, I’m sorry. They were on the motorcycle. If they were staying here, they’d have been walking on the beach, hand in hand or something like that.”
“I think you are jumping the gun on the romance thing.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t mean to go off the deep end. So Marissa and Drew rode off on a motorcycle, but they did ride toward the ferry, so I think they’re going across. So, I
am too. Are you in Calais? I will meet you there. I mean, you get to the ferry station, yes? And meet me there. Or call me. Or, wait, I will call you. Okay? Does that work for you?”
I exhaled slowly. “Yeah. It works. Cross as soon as you can. I’ll wait here.”
She said goodbye and hung up. Drew and Marissa. Two unschooled buddies from the Internet. Just…having a good time.
Si had a seizure and landed in a hospital.
Dani got arrested twice and technically stole a car.
I got fired.
For this? Two grown women playing tourists?
I followed signs to the shuttle. I had to remind myself five times that if I killed Drew now, I would be the big, evil thing Dani had been trying to protect her sister from all along.
Plus, if Drew really was a black belt, she could take me.
I kicked my heels for two and a half hours, one eye out for two hot girls on a motorbike and one out for Dani.
Dani.
I tried to remember what it was I liked about that kid. It had to be more than her green eyes, her smile. Possibly it was the way she actually seemed to listen when I was teaching. But more likely it was just her eyes.
A sucker for green eyes, every time.
I wouldn’t try and deconstruct the problem of attraction right now. It was obvious I had the problem, or else I wouldn’t be jobless at the ferry station waiting for a pretty girl.
When my phone rang, I remembered she’d be driving off in the school Saab. I answered it and tried to find where the cars would be congregating.
“This is Isaac.”
“Isaac. This is Stina. I am flying home tomorrow. What happened to Dani?”
I ground my teeth. “Dani? Oh, nothing much. She just stole the car and ran away to Scotland.”
“But seriously. What happened to her? They have released her from the police, ja?”
“Oh, ja, of course they have. And when she got free, she took the car and went to Scotland to find her sister.”
“Oh, the dumskalle. You are kidding me.”
“I am not kidding you. I am dead serious. And speaking of dead, Si almost died on the train. His blood sugar crashed and he had a seizure.”
“Oh! I’m so glad Karl came to get him in the plane. Imagine if you had been driving him home!”
“If I had been driving him home, I would have fed him. But that’s not the point. You told me to go after him, and I got fired.”
“Oh, ja, sure. But I spoke with everybody, and they decided not to send you back to the States. They understand.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Ja, they do.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Ja, they do.” She sounded irritated.
“So, why did you call?”
“I just wanted to make sure Dani was all right.”
“Why didn’t you call her?”
“I did, but she did not answer.”
“Can you blame her? You left her to rot in a French police station.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I left her at the airport. The policeman gave her croissants and coffee. Who was rotting? Not Dani. Listen, I have a busy day today, and then I go home tomorrow. I will see you when I get there.”
“No you won’t, I got fired, remember?”
“I sorted that out for you, unless you were also a dumskalle and didn’t accept the compromise.”
“El Jefe kicked me out for two weeks.”
She sucked in a breath. Then laughed. “It could be worse. I will call you when I get home. You can stay at my apartment in Vetlanda. I will stay at the school. No problem.”
I wanted to say something cutting, but more than that I wanted a free place to crash for two weeks. “Fine.”
“Not tack sa mycket?”
“Tack sa mycket. In fact, Tusen tack. A thousand thanks for all your help.”
“It was nothing. See you tomorrow.”
She hung up.
See her tomorrow?
I’d see her when I had Drew by the ear and had dragged her back to the school, that’s when I’d see her.
Dani texted. She was off the ferry, waiting in the car at Avenue du Commandant Cousteau. I’d feel like Jacques Cousteau if I actually managed to find her this time.
Dani Honeywell 10
I couldn’t believe the nerve of her. What on earth did she think she was doing? I paced the deck of the ferry, again unable to enjoy the momentous occasion, the great white cliffs, or the clear blue sky. I wasn’t sick. I was mad.
Si in the hospital. Some kind of crisis for Isaac’s work. Me: arrested a lot. How dare Drew get us all in this kind of trouble if not for true love? What had she meant in that text about “finding it”? Or had she found what she was looking for with Marissa? It wasn’t the kind of question this unschooled kid from a conservative church in rural Oregon wanted to grapple with on a ferry in the middle of the English Channel, or anywhere else. Drew was a massive, obnoxious brat, and last I checked, completely boy crazy. Her belt was well notched with local cowboys—I only hoped that was just a metaphor. Not that I thought you couldn’t hold hands until you were engaged or anything silly like that. But I hated to think Drew was a tramp. Maybe she was. Maybe she was more deeply reckless than I had thought before. Maybe no matter what I did, I couldn’t keep her on the straight and narrow. Straight. Oh jeesh. I wanted to call Mom and talk the situation over with her, but I didn’t want to give her an aneurysm.
I was so sure Drew had meant she had found true love, and even more sure that Marissa was really some guy. Maybe Marissa was a guy who wore lipstick? Who knew with these Europeans?
Or maybe she hadn’t meant she had found true love.
What else was she looking for?
Adventure? I doubted it. For the last three years, our lives had been a pretty steady stream of adventures. Cross-country trips alone and with our unschooled friends. Living rough in the woods just for kicks. How could you find adventure when you hadn’t lost it in the first place?
Could she have meant something more literal? Like a thing she had actually lost?
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through a month’s worth of texts from my sister, but I couldn’t see anything she had lost. I sat on a cold metal bench and put my head in my hands. Think. I needed to think. What had Drew been looking for?
We went to the concert and it was awesome. She went to another one with this Marissa character. I couldn’t remember her saying anything about planning to see them again so soon.
She had wanted to bring her bike to school with her, but the cost to send it on the plane with us was too much. It had really annoyed her. Had she just meant she found a new bike? Would she call a new bike “it”?
Maybe she meant Marissa’s contact information. But would she text me that she had found it, if she had never told me she was missing it?
Maybe it was simpler than that, like her train schedule or pass or map or something. But she hadn’t talked to me about any of that. The last time she had talked about lost and found, she was talking about true love.
With Marissa?
I gritted my teeth.
Why was she so bent on making everything difficult for me?
And what had she meant by “helping me grow up”? I was more grown up than she would ever be.
A man with spiky hair leaning on the rail of the ferry deck winked at me. I shivered. I would have given my eyeteeth for a big, strong, trustworthy chaperone about now. Or even for Drew. She could be counted on to kick butt, when needed.
It was useless to try and guess what she had meant, so I texted again. “What are you doing?”
To my surprise she replied: “Crossing the English Channel, yo.”
Yo.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. This ferry or another, she was headed to the same continent I was. And that would have to be enough until we got there.
On arriving in Calais—a town I would always associate with missed connections instead of whatever cool st
uff it had going on—I pulled over and texted Isaac.
My stomach flipped. It was going to be so good to see him again. He was like a safety net. A big, strong, handsome, Bible-teaching, soccer-coaching safety net.
Which brought to mind God. Not that I thought of Isaac as God; in fact, really, the guy was kind of in need of God. When he got here, we’d have to talk about that. We’d have time, if not now, then on the drive back to school. He had stuff to sort out, and I was the girl God had brought along to sort it.
I grinned. It felt good to have something to be happy about.
I kept one eye out for Drew and Marissa, but the road I had managed to find a safe stopping spot on didn’t have the best view of the offloading ferry traffic.
By the time Isaac made it to the car, I had run out of optimism for the hunt.
I popped the passenger door and let him in. “I don’t see her anywhere.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, the picture of impatience. “Give me ten seconds.”
I counted to myself, but kind of fast. On my count of sixteen, he spoke.
“Why do you expect to see her getting off the ferry?”
“She texted that she was crossing the channel.”
“Why don’t you text her again and ask where she is?” He stared at the road ahead. I imagined I could see his wheels turning, but what did I know? He could be contemplating where he could hide my body when he was done killing me. I had cost him his job, after all.
“Sure.” I decided to be as agreeable as possible. “where R U? wanna hook up?” It was a simple text, but I didn’t expect her to answer. And yet she did.
“France. No.”
“She’s here!”
He looked at the phone. “Well, she’s in France.”
I ignored his pessimism and texted Drew again. “Calais?”
“Yup.”
I was liking this responsive sister.
“She’s totally here, Isaac.” (Stomach flutters. Every time.)
He drummed his fingers on his knee. “What are we going to do about it?”
“Text her more. While I can.” I grinned at the phone. No matter how annoyed I was with Drew right now, I was super excited she was alive. “Where R U going?”
Hard to Find: A Tillgiven Romantic Mystery Page 13
