by Misty Walker
“Fuck me, muffin. I’m so sorry. I guess all you can do is try to find her. Hold on a sec.” I hear buttons on his phone being pushed and then a text message chimes on my phone. “There. I sent you the information on a guy I know. He’s not cheap, but he’s good. There was this guy I was seeing one time. He stayed over one night. He did this amazing thing where he stuck his tongue—”
“Mark!” I shout. He snaps out of his introspection.
“Oh right. Anyway, he took off with my vintage couture 1970s Chanel Boucle jacket. That thing was worth thirty-five hundred dollars. So, I found this investigator. Give him a call.”
“Yeah, okay.” I run a hand down my scruffy face.
“I’ve got to go. I have an hour before hot yoga and mommy needs her beauty sleep.” Mark yawns loudly and ends the call.
I open the text message and see the contact for the P.I. I mull it over in my mind for a few minutes. Debating on whether to just let Thea go. She didn’t want to tell me where she was going or even include me in her plans. Then I think about that asshole Wen and I picture the two of them getting married and my blood boils. He would never do right by her. Thea needs someone who will give her wings, not shackles to their cage.
The only thing I can do is try to find her. Make her talk to me and maybe there’s a way for us to work things out. She just has to give me the chance.
I drive back home and go for a run in an attempt to clear my head. When that doesn’t work, I go to my weight room, abusing my body until I’m exhausted. After cleaning up and showering, I make the call.
“David speaking,” a deep voice scratchy from years of smoking answers.
“Hello, my name is Lawrence. I’m calling because I have a job for you,” I explain.
“I’ll decide if you have a job for me. Before we go any further, let me give you my fee. That usually ends most of the phone calls I get. I charge fifteen hundred dollars upfront. If there is any travelling, or the job goes longer than a week, I charge more.” His voice is disinterested and robotic, like he says the same thing ten times a day. Maybe he does.
“Whatever. I can pay that.” He could have said double that and I would pay it to find Thea.
“Well, all right. Let’s meet at the diner on South Virginia and West Douglas.” He perks up. “In an hour.”
“I’ll see you then.” I disconnect the call. I think about all the information I have to give David and it’s not much. I doubt he’ll be able to find her. She doesn’t even have an ID, she won’t get a job wherever she goes, and even her family uses false identities.
I spend forty-five minutes scrubbing my bathroom with bleach. My hands crack and bleed from the constant chemical use. My need to disinfect and clean was bigger than I could handle. When work wasn’t even taking my mind off things, I did the only thing that could make me feel better. Clean.
I jump in my car and head to the diner. The silence in the car leaves me with only my contemplation and when that becomes too much, I click on the radio. It’s still on the pop station Thea had turned it to so long ago. A catchy tune is playing, so I leave it on. Focusing on the lyrics and not on my missing girl.
The diner is a dive. My hand can feel the germs seeping through the front entrance door. A bottle of sanitizer sits by the register, so I squirt a healthy dose on while I look for who might be the P.I. A large, black man sits by himself, a cigarette twirling through his fingers while he reads the paper. He has a fedora perched on his head and he’s wearing a red and black flannel button-down. I walk up to him. “David?”
His head tilts ever so slightly to look at me, giving me a view of his face. He has deep set wrinkles through his forehead and around his eyes, wrinkles that are most likely caused by a perpetual scowl. Like the one he’s giving me now. He nods, almost imperceptibly, and I sit across from him.
“So, what you got?” he rumbles.
I explain the situation and the only information I have on her. He stays silent, but his eyebrows shoot up when I explain that she’s never been assigned a social security number or even a birth certificate, that she’s never had a job or a permanent residence. When I’m finished, he folds his paper and tucks it under his arm.
“You got the cash?” he asks. I pull the envelope from the breast pocket of my jacket and hand it to him. “I’ll be in touch.” He stands up and walks out with the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He tips his hat at the hostess as he walks out.
I get up too. I haven’t had coffee or breakfast, but fuck if I’ll do that here. I leave a couple dollars on the table even though neither of us ordered anything. I walk out and get into my car. I guess now I wait.
I waited for a week when David called and said he needed more money. The job was extending beyond a week. He assured me he would find her, so I gladly handed over another thousand dollars. Then I waited another week.
I’m in my office, spreadsheets pulled up on my laptop screen, when my phone flashes with an incoming call. David.
“Hello,” I answer.
“I found your girl. Where are you? I’ll send over the envelope,” his slow and almost bored voice says. He found her. He really found her.
“How did you find her? Is she okay?” I ask.
“Do you want to chitchat about specifics, or do you want to know where your girl is?” Annoyance fills the line.
“I work at The Grand Royals Casino. I’m the CFO.” The line goes dead and I set my phone down. Man of few words, that David.
Within twenty minutes, Monica brings me a large manila envelope.
“This bike messenger just dropped this off. I don’t know what it is.” She sets it on my desk. “You need anything, Mr. Packwood?” Monica has been hovering the last few weeks. We don’t discuss our personal lives, but I can tell she knows something is up.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” I dismiss her, but she lingers by the door. “Is there something else?”
“I just wanted to say, I’ve been your employee for almost ten years. We aren’t the type of co-workers to discuss our lives, but I just wanted you to know I’m a good listener. If you ever need anyone, that is. I care about you and want to see you settled and happy.” She pauses, her hands wringing together. “It seemed like you were happy there for a bit. I hope you can be happy again. Just let me know if I can help.” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond and I don’t know if I could have, anyway. She quietly closes the door behind her.
Monica has been my assistant since I started this job. She was the previous CFO’s assistant, and she came with the position. She’s an elderly woman, still sharp as a tack and adapted to my personality quickly. My heart warms that she would care about me enough to say all of that to me. I didn’t know she cared about me one way or the other.
My focus goes back to the envelope. I pull out a stack of papers, including an invoice for travel expenses totaling eight hundred dollars. I shake my head. It’ll all be worth it if he really found her.
The first few sheets are pictures. My eyes widen at the sight of Thea. She’s on a beach in a bikini top and her trademark long skirt. Her arms are wrapped around herself and she’s staring into the ocean. Her hair is blowing in the breeze and she looks breathtaking.
I flip to the next picture and it’s her sitting in a chair outside her trailer. It’s a wide angle and I can see that it must be an RV park. There are RVs on either side of her and fake grass under her feet. Her legs are pulled up to her chest and her chin rests on her knees. She looks distraught and it pangs my heart to not see her wide smile.
I briefly scan the next couple pictures. Thea in a grocery store with her little sisters. Thea going into a tiny home, being hugged by an elderly couple. This must mean she’s in Florida. Those must be her grandparents. I pause on the next photo and shake my head, taking in the image. Thea is pulling out the wallet of an unsuspecting tourist. They’re on a boardwalk where the poor schmuck is focused on a vendor’s table. If you didn’t know what to look for, you’d just see a woman brushing by the
man. I know her better than that. The wallet is in her lithe fingertips, just barely out of his back pocket. Still up to tricks, huh, Trouble?
I flip to the papers behind the photos where I find the final report from David. I scan over it. She’s in Florida. Bradenton, Florida. It mentions her grandparents live nearby. Apparently, only three of the families in the band went to Florida. They’re all staying in an RV park. A few of the men have picked up seasonal fruit picking jobs. There was no mention of what the other families did.
I call Mark to my office and he gladly prances in. He’s wearing a tangerine-colored suit. His suit coat is short-sleeved. I didn’t even know such a thing exists. His tie is lime green. The only thing tame on him is the plain white button-down underneath the suit coat. I wouldn’t even know where to find such an outfit, not that I would ever want to.
I lay out all the information for Mark and explain her ties to Florida. He takes it all in, being more serious than I have ever seen him. When I show him the pictures, the Mark I know comes back to the surface.
“Christ on a goddamn cracker. She’s a sexy bitch, isn’t she?” A growl erupts from my chest. “Calm down, tiger. You know my heat-seeking missile doesn’t seek her kind of equipment.” He flips to another picture. His head tilts. “Is she?” He tilts his head in the other direction. “She is! Your little clepto has been on the prowl.”
“Yeah, I saw that.” It makes me nervous she’s up to her tricks. One wrong move and she could be in a whole world of trouble. And I wouldn’t be there to save her. When Mark’s done studying the pictures and has been caught up on all the information, he sets it all back down on my desk and looks up at me.
“So, Casanova, what’re you gonna do?” He sits back in the chair and crosses his legs delicately.
“I don’t know.” I sigh. “I want to go to Florida and drag her back up here. Make her stay in one fucking place with me. Stop her from running again.”
“She’s a real-life nomadic gypsy. What if she doesn’t want to settle down?” Mark gets his phone out of his pocket, turns on the forward-facing camera, and starts messing with his eyebrows.
“I told you, don’t call her that. It’s derogatory, and I don’t know what I’ll do. I have a job. I have a house. I really don’t want to live in an RV. I have a master’s degree, for Crissake. I can’t do manual labor like her dad.” I rub at my temples. This is all giving me a headache.
“Well, mon frère, it sounds like you have a decision to make. But if I were you, I would think hard about what’s the most important. Having a stable life and a stable job and a stable girlfriend you don’t respect?” He stands up and walks to the door. “Or the love of your life at your side, no matter where you live or what you live in?”
He shuts the door behind him. Once again, I’m left wondering how this became my life. I think back to my parents’ relationship. What little I knew and saw. I never witnessed affection. The only time I saw them spend time with each other was during meals and they were so cold, nothing more than cordial. If I go back to the relationships I had before Thea, I know my future will look exactly how my parents’ did. I know I would never bring a child into that. I didn’t deserve to grow up the way I did, and I wouldn’t condemn my own child to that.
Then I think about my life with Thea. While I can’t envision where we would live, I can imagine a little girl with wild and curly hair, golden eyes, and a smile where all of her teeth would show. And maybe a serious little boy whom we will pull out of his own head and show from an early age that there’s more to life than school and studies. Most of all, I can picture the love we will show them. Between Thea and me, and between both of us with them. This vision of the future is exactly what I want.
I know what I have to do.
I knew I was leaving when I went to Law’s house. I knew I would break his heart. I also knew I couldn’t leave without seeing him. I couldn’t leave without making love to him. I couldn’t leave without telling him how I felt.
So, I put my heartache aside and spent one last amazing night with Law. Afterward, I cried my way home where we had packed up and were ready to leave. I took the shit Wen flung at me when I showed up with sex mussed hair and swollen eyes. I climbed into the front seat of the van, where my mom would normally sit, and I rode silently on our trip across the country.
There were too many memories for my dad in Reno. He was ready for a change, and he felt like he needed the help of my grandparents. I told him I could handle it, I could take care of the kids, but he said he didn’t want to tie me down to his family when I should start my own. There was no talking him out of it, so the kids and I packed up all our belongings alongside most of the other families. Wen’s family came with us, Braithe and Nuri still holding onto hope that I would come to my senses and marry Wen.
Kezia’s family stayed behind with two others. They joined a larger band that stays on land outside of Reno. They wanted to stick with the housing boom because of the good money they were making. We all hugged and whispered promises to see each other again soon. I hope they find happiness with the larger group.
Bradenton is right outside of Sarasota and only thirty miles outside of Tampa. It sits on the Manatee River and I have to admit, it’s a pretty area to live in. There’s fruit picking work to be done this time of the year and the men had no problems getting hired on immediately. There’s also a decent amount of tourism, so I’ve been able to pad my pockets easily.
Being around my grandparents has been nice too. They’re settled and happy. It’s good to see Romani finding peace even if they have resigned to stay in one place long term.
I’ve just woken up for the day when I hear a knock on our trailer. I climb down from the loft and peek out the window. Wen.
“Hey, Thea,” he greets when I open the door.
“Um, hi. It’s early,” I deadpan. He travels the length of my body and I remember I’m wearing a sports bra and short shorts. Florida is hot and humid. My eyebrows lift and I pin him with a glare.
He looks nervously away and to his watch. “It’s noon.”
“Well, it’s early for me. What’s up? Shouldn’t you be at work?” My hands go to my hips and I stare him down, giving him all the attitude I can muster before I’ve had coffee.
“I didn’t go in today. I was hoping we could have a beach day. Explore the area more?” he begs. Ever since the day he put his hands on me, I’ve kept as much distance as I could considering we live side by side. He hasn’t been taking the hint. He’s doing everything he can to make me forgive him. Bringing me flowers, doing chores for me, and trying to enlist the help of my sisters. It will not work. It never would to begin with.
“I have the girls.” My toe taps on the ground.
“Bring them! It’ll be fun. Sun, sand, water, it’ll be awesome.” His hands go to the prayer position in front of him. Fuckin’ pathetic.
“Fine. We’ll go. Let me get them up and dig through to find their swimsuits.” I go to shut the door, but Wen’s hand swings out and stops it, making a slapping noise, and I jump.
Wen sighs. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve never meant to scare you. I’m sorry. I just wanted to say thank you. For coming with me today.” His head bows and his attention is on the ground. The part of me that spent my childhood running crazy with this guy softens a bit.
“It’s fine. You’re welcome.” I shut the door, without interference this time. Lord help me, but I feel bad for him now.
I look around the disaster in front of me. Without Mom here to organize us, things have gotten a little out of hand. Clothes are strewn about and dishes are piled in the sink. Now that we’re staying in an RV park, we’re using our kitchen and bathroom. This means more mess inside our trailer, but more importantly, running water. I feel like a princess. Almost as spoiled as I was living with Law. My heart twinges in my chest and I reach up and place a hand on the place it hurts. I didn’t think heartbreak was a physical thing, but the spot that houses that blood pumping organ has been ac
hing ever since the day we left.
“Up and at ’em,” I shout, clapping my hands loudly to rouse the girls. “We’re going to the beach!”
Hours later, we’re perched on our own very small parcel of sand. It’s an overcrowded beach and everyone is so busy. Kids building castles, wading through the surf, and crying over sandwiches that ended up being more sand than wich. But the view is amazing and the smell of warm, salty air invigorates me.
“Thea! Can we get in the water?” Indie asks excitedly. I shade the sun with my hand, trying to find an empty spot of water where I can monitor them.
“Yeah,” I say. “See that spot right in front of us?”
The girls look to where I’m pointing. “Yeah,” they reply in unison.
“Just stay right there. Don’t go out above your whoo-has. You don’t know how to swim.” A mom next to me shoots me a mean glare and I glare right back and snap. “I could have said pussy, but I didn’t. I was being respectful.” The mom gasps and covers her little boy’s ears. I just roll my eyes and focus on my two little ragtags.
Wen plops down beside me, cooler in hand. “I could barely find you. It’s so busy.”
“You finally found parking?” I ask.
“Yep, like a mile away. When we’re ready to leave, I’ll go get the car so you don’t have to trek out there.” His shoulder brushes with mine when he leans back on his hands.
“We can walk. We aren’t some princesses.” My knee-jerk reaction lately is to throw out attitude with Wen. Deserving or not.
“I know you’re not.” He rotates his body to face me. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
I briefly look away from the girls and flash them over to Wen. He’s wearing red swim trunks and his shirt is off. He’s naturally dark-skinned from our heritage and at some point, between the last time I saw him without a shirt, he’s become built. Not as chiseled as Law, but still, the boy looks good. His eyebrows rise at my obvious perusal.
