by J. M. Hill
I snorted a laugh and he narrowed his eyes at me.
“I’ve thought that about you since the first time I saw you,” I confessed. “I’m pretty sure I’ll always think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Beautiful?”
“Sorry.” I shrugged. “It’s the only word that fits.”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond as I pulled him by the hand, and we joined the others in the kitchen area. Kate was cutting up strawberries, and Ava flipped pancakes at the stove. I made a cup of coffee for Michael and myself while he sat at the table with his brothers and Will.
I set the table for breakfast listening to everyone chatter. When we were done eating, Michael helped me with the dishes and we returned to the table to continue visiting. While we talked, the doorbell rang. I tensed, and Michael rubbed my shoulders soothingly while Garrett and Will went to the front door.
“I’m terribly sorry for disturbing you.”
Michael and Miles seemed to recognize the voice as they pushed away from the table quickly. Kate, Ava and I followed them to the entry way. A very well-dressed, silver-haired man stood at the door.
“I know I’m one of the last people you would like to see right now,” the man said. “But I was hoping to speak with all of you. Just for a moment.”
The tension emanating from the boys was palpable as they stood, expressions angry, glaring at the man in the doorway. Garrett’s muscles were flexed, hands in fists, and jaw clenched tight. I couldn’t understand why they were all so angry.
“There’s nothing you have to say that we want to hear,” Garrett said.
The man held his hands up in front of him in a defensive gesture.
“Please,” he said calmly. “I can’t blame you. But I really need to talk to you, just for a moment.”
The boys all looked at Will, and he cleared his throat as he took a step toward the man.
“Mr. Sandler,” Will began, and my stomach knotted as Kate stepped beside me, squeezing my hand in hers.
“Surely you understand our discomfort.” Will spoke calmly. “Your daughter has been seen here in town.”
“Yes,” Mr. Sandler said. “That’s why I’ve come to see you. Please, may I come in?”
The boys looked to Will, and he nodded to the man. Michael squeezed one of my hands, while Kate held the other, and we all followed Mr. Sandler and Will into the living room.
“Please, sit down.” Will motioned to the sofa.
The man nodded and unbuttoned his thick wool coat before sitting down. The rest of us stood, almost in a single-file line, in front of him. He was clearly as uncomfortable as we were, but he kept eye-contact with each of the boys as he spoke.
“I can’t even begin to express how very sorry I am for what my daughter has done, and I know that there is nothing I can do to make amends.”
Michael wound his arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side.
“Please understand, although I know there is nothing I can do to change what she’s done, I felt I had to do whatever I could to help. That’s why I’m here. Unfortunately, it’s to caution you.” He paused for a moment. “She won’t stop.”
The following silence was unsettling. Mr. Sandler cleared his throat nervously.
“I know my daughter, and she won’t stop…” His eyes roamed to where I stood and I felt nauseous because I already knew what he was going to say. “She won’t stop until she finishes what she started.”
Garrett and Michael both stepped in front of me, and Garrett muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Mr. Sandler continued, so much sadness in his voice.
“I knew something wasn’t right. She’s always been such a phenomenal business woman. A true asset to our company, but over the last two years, something changed.” His voice began to shake. “I don’t know what happened, but she became more aggressive, more violent.”
“So why didn’t you get her some kind of help?” Michael asked, his tone hard.
“We tried,” he replied. “We sent her to a…place in California for eight weeks. When she came home everything seemed fine for a while, but then it started again.”
Michael tightened his grip on my hand as I took a small step away from him. I wanted to see Mr. Sandler. His face was worn with deep lines around his eyes. I could tell that at one time, he was probably very handsome. Right now though, he looked tired and grief-stricken.
“Please believe me,” he pleaded. “If I ever thought for a moment she was capable of something so terrible, I would’ve put her away myself. I never thought she’d resort to anything like this.”
He shook his head and stared at the floor.
When I looked at this man, I didn’t see Nina Sandler’s father. I just saw a father. A father heartbroken over choices his daughter made, choices out of his control. I didn’t feel nauseous anymore. I only felt pity for the man sitting in front of us, devastated and broken.
I pushed my way between Michael and Garrett, and sat next to Mr. Sandler, folding my hands in my lap. He was startled by my sudden appearance, but then his eyes became pained and he pursed his lips tightly.
“I’m so very sorry,” his bottom lip quivered as he spoke. “If there’s anything I can do, for you, or your family—”
“This isn’t your fault, Mr. Sandler,” I said quietly. “I don’t blame you. None of us do.”
Michael watched me worriedly as I tried to offer comfort to the stranger.
“I wanted to tell you,” Mr. Sandler said to Will. “I don’t believe she’s been in town recently.”
“The Denver P.D. called us—” Kate started to say but he interrupted her.
“Yes, I know, but I received a call from Nina just yesterday. The police traced her call. She was somewhere in Mexico.”
“Mexico?” Garrett said skeptically. “No offense, sir, but why should we believe you?”
“Garrett,” I felt badly that Garrett was still so angry with this man, but Mr. Sandler patted my knee in a fatherly-gesture.
“I understand. I don’t expect you to trust me. I do know she’ll be back. She will.” He looked over at me. “You need to be careful. I don’t know what she’ll do, but I do know she won’t stop.” Remorse had taken over his voice as he turned to Michael. “That’s all I wanted to tell you. To warn you to be careful.”
Michael nodded at him, and Mr. Sandler turned to me, his face worn with grief.
“It’s the strangest thing,” tears glossed his eyes, “when I see her, I just see my little girl.”
The sympathy I felt for him had taken over and tears filled my eyes, too. “But I guess she’s not my little girl. Not anymore. I don’t know who she is anymore.”
I hesitantly placed my hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Sandler,” I said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
His expression was puzzled, the pain on his face overwhelming. “After what she did to you, and you’re trying to comfort me?”
I felt terrible for him and I couldn’t imagine what he must be going through.
“That just makes what my daughter did even worse. I’m the one who is sorry.” He patted my knee again before standing. “I’ve hired several private investigators, and my wife and I are working very closely with the police. We want her found.”
“But she has unlimited funds,” Garrett said. “She could be anywhere.”
“I’ve closed all of her accounts, cancelled her credit cards. She may have had a stash of cash, but that won’t last forever.” He put his hands into the pockets of the heavy coat he was wearing. “Her mother and I have accepted the likelihood of never seeing our daughter again. We’d try to help her if we could. She’s our child and we still love her. How can you stop loving your child?” He shook his head sadly. “But she must be held responsible for her actions.” He took a business card from his pocket and handed it to Will. “Please. If there’s anything I can do for any of you, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call.”
> “Thank you.” Will nodded. “And you’ll ask the police to keep us informed if you hear anything?”
“Of course,” Mr. Sandler assured him. “Feel free to call anytime, my cell number is on there as well.”
We followed him to the front door, and he turned to face us before stepping outside.
“Thank you,” he said. “I know I haven’t been much help, but I felt I needed to do something. I don’t want her to hurt anyone else.”
I stepped to him, putting my hand out and he shook it gently. “Thank you, Mr. Sandler,” I said. “We all know this can’t be easy for you or your wife. Thank you for coming.”
He patted my hand and then smiled weakly. “You stay safe,” he said. “Please. Stay safe.”
I nodded and he turned to leave, Garrett closing the door behind him.
“I feel terrible for him,” I said quietly.
Garrett draped his arm over my shoulder. “You’re somethin’ else, Gracie, you know that?” He kissed the top of my head. “Somethin’ else.”
Everyone retreated to the living room in silence. Kate sat beside me, her forehead creased with worry.
“So what do we do now?” Kate asked.
Everyone looked at Will, including myself.
“There’s really nothing we can do,” Will replied. “Nothing’s changed.”
“Except Mr. Sandler just verified what we already knew,” Miles’ tone was somber. “Nina is crazy.”
It was quiet for a moment, and then Garrett cleared his throat. “Gracie, do you still want to stay?”
“What do you mean?” I was confused by his question.
“Well, you heard him,” he said. “Nina’s not going to stop. Maybe we should re-think Michael’s idea of New York.”
I shook my head and Michael sighed in frustration, and began to pace, but I ignored him. Mr. Sandler didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, and I had no intention of running.
“If we run away she wins,” I said. “And I don’t want her to win.”
Garrett smiled widely. “That’s my girl.”
Michael watched me with an unreadable expression on his face and then walked over to Will.
“So you think we should stay?” He asked. I’m sure he hoped Will would disagree, but Will put his hands on Michael’s shoulders and nodded with surety.
“Okay.” Michael sighed. “But we can’t let our guard down. Things are going to stay the way they have been until Nina is caught. No going anywhere alone. Any of us.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Your mother and I have decided to stay for a while,” Will told him. “We think it will be better if we’re all together.”
I smiled. If I had my way Will and Ava would live with us. Michael hugged his dad, and I knew Will and Ava’s presence was a comfort to everyone, not just me. I warred internally with what I’d wanted to tell them, and I decided now was as good a time as any.
“Um…may I say something?” My voice was quiet.
Michael eyed me cautiously—clearly uneasy about whatever I was going to say.
“What is it, Grace?” Miles asked with a smile.
I took a deep breath. “I want to go back to work. It’s been weeks, and I’m ready to go back.”
Everyone watched as I fidgeted in my seat and Michael glared at me with what was either shock or anger, I couldn’t tell which.
Garrett broke the silence. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“What’s the difference in being here or being at the shop? I won’t be alone. Kate and I will be together.” Michael’s expression hadn’t changed when I looked at him. “And I know you’ll be with me. Miles and Garrett, too. I don’t think Nina will come to the shop again.”
“She’s insane, Grace,” Michael argued. “She’ll go anywhere she can get to you easily. I don’t like it.”
My stomach tightened into a sick knot. “If she wants me bad enough, it won’t matter where I am.”
“Gracie,” Kate shook her head sadly. “Please don’t say that.”
I squeezed her hand tightly. “I’m sorry, but it’s true and you all know it.”
Michael kneeled in front of me, the worry in his eyes almost painful.
“I’m scared. I really am,” I said. “But, I might as well try to get on with my life the best way I can, instead of just sitting here waiting for her to decide when she’s ready. I don’t want her to have that power. She already has too much power as it is.”
“Grace,” Miles said sweetly. “We understand what you’re saying, but you have to understand why we are worried about this.”
“I understand.” I smiled at him. “I’m worried, too. But like I said, if she’s going to come for me, it’s not going to matter where I am.”
Michael stood and pulled me off the couch, wrapping his arms around me tightly. It was such a quick movement it took my breath away. I could feel the fear and worry rolling off of him as I wound my arms around him, resting my head on his chest.
“Did you hear what her own father said?” Michael asked. “He said she’s not going to stop.”
I’d always known she wouldn’t stop. Since the day I woke up in the hospital and Michael told me Nina had gotten away. I knew then she wouldn’t stop and all this time I’d been afraid.
“I heard him, Michael,” I said quietly. “But I’m tired of being afraid.
TWENTY-SEVEN
That night, I resisted the urge to beg Michael to stay with me as he kissed me good night on the front porch. I slept so much better when he was with me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ask, and he needed his sleep too.
I got ready for bed slowly, brushing my teeth an extra-long time and doing the same with my hair. When I was done with things to do in the bathroom, I trudged to my bedroom and decided to alphabetize my CD’s. While I worked on this project I put on some music and hummed along with Norah Jones.
When I finished, I’d only killed an hour so I decided to watch a movie. Unsure of what to watch, I closed my eyes and ran my finger back and forth over the DVD’s and stopped on one randomly. I snorted a laugh when I saw what I’d inadvertently chosen. “Fatal Attraction”.
Yeah, I don’t think so.
I dropped it into the trash. No matter how good Glenn Close’s performance, the subject-matter hit a little too close to home. I pulled another random case from the shelf. “Fiddler on the Roof”. This movie always made me smile, especially since I watched it with Garrett, and he referred to the fiddler as the ‘creepy dude with a violin’. I slid the movie into the player and started pulling pillows off my bed while I danced to the opening credits. My phone vibrated and I snatched it from the bedside table quickly to read Michael’s message:
Hey.
I glanced at the clock. It was after one a.m.. Hey, why are you awake?
Why are you awake?
I snorted a laugh as I typed. I’ve decided sleep is overrated
You need to sleep.
So do you.
I pictured him raking his hand through his hair in frustration, and I smiled as I waited for his response.
What are you doing?
I just organized my CD’s and now I’m watching “Fiddler on the Roof”.
You organized your CD’s?
I knew he’d have something to say about that. Yes I did.
And how did you organize them? Alphabetically?
I grimaced. How did he know? Yes. What of it?
Are you OCD?
I thought for a minute. Kate and I often laughed about the fact we probably were a little OCD. Before I could answer him, the phone vibrated with a message: Are you trying to decide whether or not you’re OCD?
I laughed as I typed. You think you’re so smart. Are you laughing at me?
Yes, you’re adorable.
I rolled my eyes. So are you just going to make fun of me? or are you going to come over and watch the movie with me?
Make fun of you.
Very funny.
&nb
sp; Yes you are.
Fine.
Sweetheart, please go to sleep.
I heaved a sigh. I’ll try.
Promise?
I winced. I was tired, but I didn’t want to sleep, and I definitely didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep. My phone vibrated while I debated.
Are you still there?
No. I’m sleeping.
Oh, you’re hilarious.
I actually thought that was pretty funny. Maybe Garrett’s sense of humor was rubbing off on me.
Fine. I promise I’ll try to sleep
I love you, my Grace, good night.
Night.
I giggled as I typed the last message: And I love you. More.
I set the phone on my night table, but it vibrated again and I grabbed it quickly reading his signature response to that statement. Hm.
I plugged the phone into the charger, climbing under the covers as I watched my movie. As usual, tears came during the “Chava Ballet Sequence”, Tevye grieving because his daughter had turned her back on him. He remembers her as a child and his heart breaks as he sings.
I thought of Mr. Sandler.
That night I woke up twice. Not from nightmares, but from dreams.
In the first dream Mr. Sandler wandered around a children’s playground. His silver hair reflected the sun in shimmers, his eyes were wide with panic, and his voice was devastatingly desperate as he called for his little girl.
His little girl was lost.
I wanted to help him find his little girl, but my voice wouldn’t carry and my feet wouldn’t move.
The second dream was much worse. This time Nina stood in front of her father as he called her name, over and over as if she were lost. He searched desperately for his daughter, but couldn’t recognize her as she stood there unseen, not answering and not moving. Tears fell as he called her name over and over. This time when I said his name he seemed to hear me. His expression was anguished as he turned to me.
“Grace,” he pleaded. “Please stay safe. Please.”
I cried silently and thought about Mr. Sandler, his broken heart and words of warning. The images were heartbreaking, difficult to dispel, and kept me from sleep. By the time I got out of bed, I’d had less than two hours of sleep and my eyes were as puffy and red as usual.
