by Rea Frey
“I’ve been handling business. As you know. From my computer. Which happens to be one of the perks of living in today’s world.”
“Working from your computer is not work. That’s not the nature of how we do business.”
“Email is how everyone does business.”
“No, travel is how you do business. You’re the face of this business, and we need you.”
“Look, not everything is about the company. I’ve been dealing with … some personal issues. I needed time away.”
“You mean the flu you faked or the family trip to see your dad you lied to your whole team about? It’s not like you to lie.”
It is now, I thought. I prayed they had not been following Emma’s case; that they wouldn’t put two and two together to realize the “spotted” brunette was me. “I thought you guys might not be able to understand. I went to Ethan’s—which I’m sure Madison told you about by now—and then he showed up. With a girl.”
Brad went silent.
“Hello? You still there?”
“Yes, I’m here.” His tone had softened. I knew if the love of his life showed up with his new lover at his ex-lover’s place, he’d have a heart attack.
“So, as you can imagine, it was mortifying. I can’t even go into it. Long story short, he left, and then he came back, and we hashed it out.”
“Well, that’s good though, right? Closure and all that?”
“Kind of. He told me he’d … that he’d actually bought a ring. That he was going to propose.”
“What? When?”
Getting engaged had been a topic of debate with my team. I’d never told them I’d found the box—it was too embarrassing. “He got it about seven months into our relationship. And then he just never gave it to me.”
Brad exhaled. “I mean … wow. Did he say why?”
“He said he just changed his mind.” My voice broke when I said it, which angered me. I was stronger than this. I had to get over it. He’d turned me in. As far as I was concerned, he no longer existed. I cleared my throat, checked Emma and my speed.
“Holy balls,” Brad whispered. “I’m really sorry, Sarah. That’s a lot to absorb. I don’t even know what to say.”
“I left after he did, and I’ve just been driving cross-country ever since. I’m…” I tried to think of something that would satisfy my team, that would allow me to just abandon everything we’d worked so hard on and be gone for as long as I needed to.
“Got any kits with you? You could make some pit stops along the—”
“Really?”
“Okay, okay. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Are you on your way back?”
“Not yet. I’ve decided something.” I felt a plan hatching.
“Please tell me you’re not selling.” Brad had sent me five emails over the last week about being bought out and one a few days ago that had given me pause. There was a huge toy company in California who wanted to absorb us. It was an ungodly amount of money—enough to sail through life without ever thinking about making ends meet again.
“Are you talking about the offer from Hal?” Even as I said it, I had to admit the appeal was there. I’d been working so hard for so long. I loved my job. But how did I ever go back to it after this?
“Yes. That one. It’s tempting, right?”
“It is. And I’m considering it.”
“That was a test, dammit. I didn’t think you’d say you were actually considering it.”
“I didn’t say I’m doing it. But I am considering it. For all of us. It would be complete financial freedom. For you, Madison, and Travis. I’d make sure of it. I’ll talk to Hal and find out the bottom line.”
“So what are you doing now, then? Why aren’t you back?”
“I’m going to find my mother.” The lie slipped from my lips in an easy rush.
“You’re what now? Your mother? Seriously? Do you even know where she is?”
“Not exactly. But I have an idea.”
Brad slurped at his espresso and coughed. “So, this has been an all-around total life-changing month for you, then.”
“Something like that.”
“Does your dad know?”
“Not yet.”
“Look.” He exhaled hard into the phone. “You do what you’ve gotta do. I’ve got it all under control. Take some time. Not too much time, because we still need you.”
“Thanks.”
“And let me know when you talk to Hal. In fact,” he whistled, “I am not kidding when I say I just got his final offer. Right this second.” He was quiet as he read through the details. “We have forty-eight hours to respond.”
It was my second forty-eight-hour ultimatum, though this one could provide freedom, not steal it. “What does it say?”
“You know what? I’m going to send this over. Read it when you’re not driving. Because you might crash.”
“That much?”
“More.” His fingers pecked on the keys. “There. Sent. Okay, where were we?”
“You were giving me a guilt trip about not being in the office, though I’ve never been out of the office, except for work.”
“I know. But things just aren’t the same without you.”
“They’re probably better.”
“Nice try.” He cleared his throat. “So … how much time do you need, do you think?”
“Brad.”
“What? I need a time frame. You know that. I work better with structure in place. Are you thinking a few weeks? Another month? Until you find your mom? Indefinitely?”
The word indefinitely hung in the air, thick with insinuation. Could I just walk away from my business indefinitely? The perfect life I’d worked so hard to build? The life I thought I’d always wanted? A month without my city and my business, in the situation I was in, and that version seemed like another, less important life.
“Let’s not get dramatic. No one is going anywhere indefinitely. I’ll continue to take care of our accounts. And I promise to check in more on the phone. And of course, if there are any emergencies—”
“I’ve got it covered. Everything’s good here.”
“I really do appreciate it.”
“Please be safe. And I’m sorry about Ethan, Sarah. I’m just surprised. We all loved him.”
“I know you did. Thanks. But it’s okay. The door is finally closed.” I put on my blinker and changed lanes. “I should go. I don’t need to talk and drive when I have no idea where the fuck I am. Love you.”
“Love you more. And don’t get kidnapped or chopped up and buried in someone’s backyard or anything. You know how those isolated areas are.”
I bristled at the word kidnapped but laughed. “How do you know I’m somewhere rural?”
“If you’re driving cross-country, you’re rural, sweetie.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll try not to get killed. You know there’s nothing scarier than a hillbilly.”
“Girl, don’t I know it. Try dating one.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I laughed. “What was that guy’s name? Paul? Patrick?”
“Try Pervis. His name was actually Pervis. He lived with his mother in their basement. I’m pretty sure he made skin jackets in his free time.”
“Gross.”
“Okay, girl. Call me tomorrow.”
“I will. I promise.”
We hung up. The weight of work lifted from my shoulders. Business was safe. Relationships were restored. Bills were still getting paid. My team was still on board.
It was my turn to figure out what I was doing, where I was taking Emma, and just how long I could keep up this charade.
after
At a gas stop, I took Emma in the stall to pee. I laid the paper on the seat and shut the door for her, asking every few seconds if she was okay.
“It’s stuck in traffic.”
This was her running joke when it took her twenty minutes to go to the bathroom. I laughed and told her to take her time, as I washed my hands and splashed my face
, startled once again by the blond version of myself in the mirror. Did I look better or worse? I thought about the quiz I’d taken on Facebook that said I looked like Anne Hathaway. Who would be my look-alike now? I checked my phone, typing in Emma’s name, and waited for any updates to register. And there it was: the same update with a different title. I swallowed as I read the headline.
Missing Girl Spotted in Montana
Emma flushed and exited, pulling her skirt out of her tights. “That bathroom’s stinky. Shoo-wee.”
I smiled absently as she moved to wash her hands. I scoured the article as fast as I could, absorbing any new key words: anonymous caller. Spotted in Bozeman. Emma with a slim brunette in an SUV. We were far from Bozeman, but it didn’t matter now. They had to know I was heading east. I’d had every intention of making it to Connecticut, but I needed some place larger, some place I was familiar with, some place where we’d blend in with millions of people who were too absorbed in their own lives to pay any attention to two blondes in a Tahoe.
I checked my directions on my phone and mapped how long it would take.
“How would you like to go somewhere super-exciting? Somewhere we didn’t mark on the map?”
She jumped up and down. “Are there toys there?”
“Toys? There are so many toys you won’t even know what to do.”
“Are there parks?”
“Hundreds.”
“Playgrounds?”
“A million.”
She squealed and bounced out to the car. “I want to go now! Can we go now?”
I nodded as we situated ourselves back into the car, and I deviated from our original plan.
* * *
That afternoon, I kept my eye out for healthy lunch options. We’d been existing on diner food and processed snacks. We both needed something substantial. We’d played the alphabet game four times, and I’d finally given in to her using the iPad.
My cell rang. It was a number I recognized, a number I’d been avoiding until now.
“This is Sarah.” I made my voice as professional as possible, all of my fears and questions abandoned as curiosity took over.
“Sarah? Hey, finally. It’s Hal. Hal Pierce.”
“Hey, Hal. I’m so sorry I haven’t gotten back to you.”
“No, no. It’s fine, really. I’m just glad I got you. So, I’ll get right to it.”
“Shoot.”
“I’m assuming you received our latest proposal?”
After we hung up, I’d looked at Hal’s final offer at a rest stop, and triple-checked the number of zeros. I’d read over the terms of the deal—all favorable—and sent it straight to my lawyer. It was the best offer I’d ever get, and we both knew it. In a way, it was now or never. Sell my life’s work, or continue to play the game and hope not to become irrelevant in the sea of new businesses.
“I have.”
He chuckled. “Hard to get. I like it. I have to say, Sarah, we’ve never made an offer this substantial, but that’s how much we believe in your business. We want to get these kits into every school and home in America.”
“Just America?”
“No, of course not just in America, but it’s the best place to start. I know your international work is very important to you, and we understand that. We want to continue all the good work you’ve done and maximize our global reach after our domestic one is optimized.”
I glanced in the rearview. A police car was hovering two cars back. A ripple of fear clawed at my spine. I cleared my throat. “You know, Hal, I am beyond flattered. And I appreciate it so much, but I’m just not sure it’s the best time to sell. I thought I made that pretty clear.”
“I know. And I understand. I do. But what we’re offering doesn’t mean you have to just hand everything over and walk. We can have a partnership. You can even drive the ship if you want. But, if I’ve learned anything in business, it’s that your first baby isn’t your last. TACK is amazing, revolutionary even. But don’t you want to know what’s next?”
“Next?”
“Yes, next. Your next venture. With a mind like yours, this won’t be your only business.”
My first business coach told me the same thing. Don’t settle for your first business idea because it’s never your last. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Well, you should. You’re young. This is only the beginning of your career. And what we’re offering can literally fund your next venture. Entirely. You can even take the same team with you, if that’s what you choose. Nothing has to change.”
Except everything. It seemed Hal had all the answers. But the betrayal my team would feel … the responsibility I had to all of those children. How did I just give that all up for a check with seven zeros? I glanced at Emma in the backseat and thought: for her. Money was the only way I could disappear with Emma. Not some money. Enough money, where we could lay low for years if we had to, only reemerging when we were certain we would never be found. When going on worldly travels would result in me having spontaneously “adopted” an older child, and then I could introduce Emma to the people in my life as my daughter. Would anyone believe me?
The police car I’d been tracking suddenly darted into the left lane and flicked on its siren, a blue wash of lights blinding this late in the afternoon. Hal breathed into my ear, a patient predator. Choices bounced around my brain. At once, the police car shot back into the right lane and pulled within inches of my trunk, its aggressive signal to pull over. I checked my speed and glanced to see that Emma’s headphones were still on.
“Hal? Hal, I’m so sorry, but I’m going to have to call you right back.” I ripped off the earbuds and dropped my cell on the passenger seat. Every fear I’d ever had bumped up against some version of the truth I would need to concoct. All of the options ran in one large liar’s list, a dump of information I couldn’t quite sift through. The steering wheel jerked to the right, startling Emma, as the tires skidded onto a thin expanse of grass. The metal of the car shook with the close proximity to the highway.
Emma looked up. “Why are we stopping?” she yelled over the sound of her iPad. She removed one of her headphones.
“Hey, honey. You just keep listening to your show, okay? We’re just stopping to talk to this man for a second.”
She nodded and let her large headphones snap back over her small ears. After an interminable wait, a large officer loped to my window. Brown slacks tucked into muddy black boots kicked dust into tiny clouds. A round belly strained against a police uniform top. A gun rested at his bulging hip. I closed my eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.
A set of knuckles landed on my window before I could open my eyes, tapping hard enough to shatter glass. I lowered my window, urging the automatic system to work faster. The officer looked directly past me and found Emma in the back. He scanned the scene: child in a car seat, watching a show, the various contents of our road trip strewn across the seats like a shaken-out trash bag. Emma, as oblivious as could be, didn’t feel the intense gaze of a stranger pressing into her.
Two blue eyes pushed far back into a doughy face came even with the open window and finally locked somewhere above my forehead. One of his hands rested on the roof. The whir of cars sped by dangerously close to his back, and I feared someone who might be texting and driving could crash into his mammoth frame and spit him out, chewed and torn, a hundred feet from here. The officer’s breath smelled like tobacco and coffee. A violent red wart perched on the side of his nose.
“Know why I pulled you over?”
He chewed over his syllables, and I tried to slow my thoughts to match his casual pace and Midwest accent. “No, sir. I wasn’t speeding, was I?”
He stood and sniffed. “License and registration, please.” I fished in my glove compartment for the proper papers, glad I hadn’t swapped out my license plate with something that wouldn’t register in the system. I wormed my license out of my wallet and handed it to him.
He stared down at the license and bac
k at me. “Different.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your hair. Different.”
I smoothed a piece behind my ear. “Yep.”
“Be right back.”
I watched him take his time as he sauntered to his car, pushing through wayward sticks and bunches of gravel. The weight of his lower half groaned as he sat in the driver’s seat and entered my information into his special computer. Luckily, I’d never had so much as a speeding ticket or traffic violation in my entire life. But what if that officer in Montana had made my license plate? What if word of the two blondes had traveled to these parts? What if everything I’d done was about to come to a startling conclusion and Emma was ripped away? I literally couldn’t bear the thought of her being taken from me.
In minutes, he was back at the window and handed me my papers. “Where you headed?”
“Chicago. Visiting my folks.”
He sucked his teeth. “Quite a drive from Portland with a little one.”
“She’s used to it. Loves road trips. So, may I ask why I was pulled over?”
“Taillight is out. Right rear. Gonna need to get that fixed before you do any night driving.”
The relief filled my entire body until it felt like I might float away. “What?”
“Taillight. Right rear.”
“But I just had a tune-up.”
“Nah. They gyp you. Especially women.”
I ignored the slightly chauvinistic comment and feigned humility. “Well, thanks so much for letting me know. I’ll get it fixed right away. So sorry about that.”
He nodded and glanced to the back again. “Those things sure do keep ’em quiet, huh?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The iPads. Screens. Keeps ’em entertained.”
“Oh, yes. They do. It’s the only way to make it through a road trip in one piece.” My attempt at humor fell flat, and he stood to his full height and arched his back in the same way I’d seen very pregnant women do a hundred times in my life.
“You two have a good day now. Be safe.”
“Thanks, Officer. You too.” I watched him walk back to his car and let out a shaky, guarded breath. My fingers ached on the gearshift. The dash swam in front of me. I waited until he peeled back into traffic and then followed, gunning the engine to navigate back onto the highway.
