by Jessica Kate
And still no Lili.
The scent of Canadian bacon and salt tempted him. “Hand me another McMuffin?” he asked Nick, who munched on his own in the passenger seat.
Nick rummaged in the bag for another, passed it along, and returned his gaze to the window.
The kid had kept watch all night.
At 2:00 a.m. they’d regrouped with Mike, Steph, and Dad. With the motel rooms already booked, they’d agreed to take shifts. Mike would search in one car, Jem in the other. The rest could sleep until seven, when they would change shifts.
Nick had climbed into the BMW’s passenger seat before Jem could refuse. Now he was glad. A poke from Nick had kept him from hitting a street sign at least once. Nick had helped Jem search every street near Grace’s old address, every park, every fast-food place. He checked for Lili’s signal regularly, but she’d never popped back up.
Now they were less than an hour from the shift change, and no good news. Lili had spent an entire night out here somewhere, cold, alone, and believing herself unloved.
Jem shoved the rest of his McMuffin back into the bag. He had another park to search.
They pulled up at Spring Forest Road Park and left their heated car for the predawn chill. They had to find her here. He was running out of ideas.
They swept through all the trees, then met at the yellow playground equipment. It was the last place left in the park where she could be hiding.
“Lili?” Nick poked his head into an enclosed slide, then scampered up a curved metal ladder to check a tunnel. He shook his head.
Jem pressed a fist to his forehead. No. He’d failed her.
Nick trudged with him back to the car, steps dragging.
They climbed into the vehicle and turned toward the city center. They could check the food places close to Grace’s old address again. But the shift change was coming soon.
Nick leaned his head against the seat. A yawn escaped.
Jem glanced at him. He strove for an upbeat tone. “At least when we do find her, you’ll look very dashing.”
Nick looked down at his button-down shirt. He’d ditched the tie hours before. “I had a scholarship interview when you called.”
“That’s right, I’d forgotten. How did it go?”
“You called before I went in.”
Jem slowed. “Wait . . . You mean you blew off a scholarship interview to help search for Lili?”
Now that he thought about it, he had a vague memory of Nick saying “scholarship.” But it had been hard to hear over his own brain screaming, Where is my niece?
“I was going to tell them I needed to reschedule.” He shrugged. “We’ll see if they let me.”
They stopped at an intersection. “You’re a good friend.”
Nick ducked his head. “Anyone else would do the same.”
“No, they wouldn’t. I hope she sees that.”
“At the moment I’m not sure.” Nick’s tone rattled Jem. What had he let happen to his niece?
Nick pulled his phone from the console, where it charged. A sharp intake of breath drew Jem’s attention.
“I’ve got her signal. She’s four blocks away.”
43
“Lili?”
Lili pulled her gaze from the game on her phone. She’d lost her mind. She could have sworn she heard Jem calling her name.
“Lili?”
She jumped to her feet, dropping her phone. It still dangled from the charger she’d found a few minutes ago.
A creak sounded from the direction of the front door. Lili charged through the sanctuary, pawed at the locks, and wrenched open the door.
Uncle Jem stood on the steps, face lined, the rising sun shining on his hair like a halo.
Lili threw herself into his arms.
“Thank you, God.” Jem’s murmur barely penetrated her consciousness. He squeezed her tight, let her cry into his shirt.
He’d come for her. Someone loved her enough to come for her.
She hung onto Jem with all her strength. They stood like that for a minute before Jem sat her down on the top step.
“Just let me message your parents and Granddad. They’re out looking too. And Natalie will be worried sick.”
“They are?” She dragged a sleeve past her nose.
Jem tapped a message into his phone. “We split into shifts so we could search all night.”
“How did you find me?”
“It was Nick’s idea. He used the Find My Phone thingy. He said you did the same thing to your dad.”
She grabbed Jem’s arm. “Nick? He’s not here, is he?”
He slid his large hand over hers. “He searched with me all night. He’s in the car. He thought I should talk to you first.”
She scanned the road. No car.
“We parked on the other side,” Jem said, pointing around the corner.
“I can’t believe it. Mom and Dad too?”
“Mom and Dad too.”
Tears welled again. “I thought no one wanted me.”
Jem’s face twisted, like he was about to cry too. He opened his arms, and she leaned against his chest, face tucked into his shoulder. “I know. Nick told us everything. Your parents finally came clean. I’m so sorry, Lil.”
She couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer. Jem rocked her as she cried.
“I had no idea your dad told you to come home. I’ve loved having you, and if you want to stay at my house and your parents are okay with that, then I’d be a lucky guy.” He squeezed her tight. “You are very wanted.”
“Dad replaced me,” she choked out. “Miss Kent is—”
“I know. He did the wrong thing. For what it’s worth, his mistakes have nothing to do with you. He made some selfish decisions.” Jem pulled back and gripped her shoulders. “But no matter what he’s done, you are still loved. Don’t forget that.”
“I don’t know what I did. Dad doesn’t care. Mom doesn’t care. God doesn’t care.”
“That’s not true, Lili.”
“It feels true.”
“I know.” Jem sighed, then glanced toward the corner. “Nick gave up his scholarship interview to come find you.”
“He what?”
He gestured toward the car and Nick. “Nick made a big sacrifice. Now, do you think he doesn’t care about you?”
“Of course not.” Where was he going with this?
“What if things started to go wrong? Would you assume he didn’t like you then?”
“To give up that interview . . . That’s huge. I don’t think I could ever doubt that he’s my friend.”
“Don’t you think the same applies to the Person who died instead of you?”
She blinked. It was nothing she’d done. God loved her no matter what.
She pushed away from Jem. “I need to talk to Nick.”
“Okay.”
She strode across the dewy lawn and around the corner, but faltered when her parents’ BMW came into view.
Nick sat with his head back against the headrest, still in the same shirt he’d worn for his interview yesterday. His head jerked in her direction as she approached. He climbed from the car, caution written across his face.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, stopping three feet away from him.
He tilted his head. “For what?”
“For making you miss your interview. For yelling. For not trusting you.”
He extended his hand. “It’s okay.”
She flew past his hand, wrapped her arms around his middle. Cried for the billionth time in the last twenty-four hours.
Nick’s arms locked around her. Secure. Somehow, weirdly, it didn’t just feel like Nick was hugging her. It was almost like God was too.
“It’s okay,” Nick repeated. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
For the first time, she believed him.
44
Natalie wasn’t here.
Dad steered the police cruiser into Jem’s parking lot. Riding shotgun, Jem leaned forward and scanned the
lot. No Bug. No bicycle. But her mother’s Volvo was parked in the next-to-last space.
The rat that had gnawed at his intestines all the way home from Raleigh clawed past his diaphragm and sank its teeth into his heart.
He hadn’t been enough for her.
“I’m sorry, son.” Dad spoke in a quiet tone.
Jem bowed his head and clenched his fists together. For the past twenty hours, all he’d been able to pray was, Please, please, please, please, please.
Now it became No, no, no, no, no.
No one to hide his carrots and replace them with Snickers. No partner on the court. No backup with the kids. No best friend.
The car stopped, and Nick and Lili piled out of the back seat.
They’d breakfasted at a small cafe in Raleigh with Lili’s parents. The table had run out of napkins by the end of it, between everyone’s tears. Although there had been apologies all round, Lili had been firm in her decision to stay at Jem’s, at least for now. He’d been relieved. Mike and Steph, though joined in their concern for Lili, oozed resentment toward one another.
And if the coming nights were going to be lonely, it always helped to have another person in the house.
He exited the car on stiff limbs.
Beside Nick’s pickup, the young couple embraced.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nick said to Lili, then fired up his truck and rumbled down the road.
“Guess I’ll head too,” Dad said, one foot still in the car.
Jem turned. “Would you like to come up for a drink? Of juice?” he added, at his father’s scowl.
Dad’s expression softened. His skin carried a grayish hue from fatigue, eyes bloodshot. “Sure.” He paused at the door. “Why don’t you head up, Lil? I want to talk to your uncle.”
She took the keys from Jem and disappeared inside.
Jem rubbed his temples. Exhaustion weighed down every cell of his being. Couldn’t whatever his dad had to say wait? He needed to get everyone fed and watered, then hit the sack.
“What happened with Natalie?” The question was cautious, not demanding.
Jem paused. They didn’t have a talk-about-relationship-problems kind of dynamic. But what the heck. He didn’t have the energy to object. He sketched their argument out in the briefest of terms.
Dad nodded, face thoughtful. “Do you remember the day you gave up on me?”
Jem blinked. “What?”
“I rode you all the time. But you still always tried to please me, at least to a degree. But there was a day when that stopped.”
Jem shifted on his feet. Yeah, he knew. “The ski trip.”
Dad nodded. “The ski trip.”
One of his top-five least-favorite memories. He’d been sixteen. Dad hadn’t loved the idea of the school ski trip, but after a decent amount of nagging he’d set his terms. Better grades. Impeccable behavior. And Jem had to pay for it himself.
Against all odds, he’d met the criteria. But when the time came for Dad to sign the permission slip, he put it off, lost it, found a dozen excuses.
Jem crossed his arms. “You goaded me into that fight.”
For the first time, Dad admitted, “I did.”
“You thought I’d never be able to do as you asked.”
Dad gave a slow nod.
“And because you still didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t let me go. So you goaded me into getting into a fight about it, then grounded me as punishment.”
“That’s the long and short of it, yes.”
“And you bring this up why?”
Dad stroked the stubble on his cheek, the sound scratchy. “I broke something in you that day. You gave up. You decided that no matter what you did, you were doomed. And it didn’t just affect your relationship with me.” He gave a meaningful look.
“That’s ridicu—” Jem’s voice trailed off. Did it make a terrible kind of sense? He’d ended his engagement with the love of his life. Then broken up with her a second time after only two weeks of dating. Even the ease with which he’d broken up with Chloe probably wasn’t natural.
Dad folded his arms. “You believe you’re destined to fail. But it’s not true. You’re a good son. A good dad. You could be a good husband too.”
Jem stared at his father. He could not have been more surprised had his father stripped naked and performed the chicken dance. Was that what Dad really thought? He couldn’t even make himself believe it. “I’ve got two kids in my house, and yesterday one ran away and the other nearly went unconscious.”
Dad shrugged. “Stuff happens. But you try. That counts.”
He clapped a hand on Jem’s shoulder, apparently at the end of his emotional-honesty tolerance for the day. “Let’s go get this drink.”
They trudged up the stairs together. When Jem reached the door, his hand faltered.
He didn’t want to be in this apartment if Natalie wasn’t going to be with him.
But I’ve got Olly. And Lili. And I know You still love me, Lord.
The strains of “I Believe I Can Fly” greeted him as he opened the door. On the television, Michael Jordan walked down the gangplank of a spaceship. Space Jam. One of Natalie’s childhood favorites—and he’d caught her playing it “for Olly” more than once.
“Karen?”
“Jem?”
He stopped breathing.
Natalie looked up from her spot in the living room, eyes wet and Lili still wrapped in her hug.
A hand squeezed Jem’s shoulder. He turned.
Dad grinned and backed toward the stairs, giving a two-fingered salute as he went.
Jem looked back at the girls. Hope fluttered its wings, but he anchored it to the ground. She might have only stayed from concern for Lili.
Natalie and Lili separated long enough to perch on stools at the kitchen counter, and Lili spilled the story of her midnight breaking-and-entering, then Jem’s rescue. Natalie listened with wide eyes.
Jem stayed frozen in the dining nook.
Then Lili yawned wide enough to swallow a cat and said, “I want to go to bed.”
Natalie gave her another hug, and his niece disappeared into her room. Her door clicked shut.
Jem turned to Natalie, standing by the end of the counter. Her hair shone in its customary ponytail, and she turned jeans and a faded hoodie into a delicious ensemble. He took a step closer, then another.
She didn’t meet his eyes.
Hope sparked, then fizzled.
“Jem—”
“Nat—” They spoke at the same time.
“I need to apologize,” he jumped in. “I’m sorry what I said. I was freaked out over Olly.”
A small smile softened Natalie’s expression. He held his breath. Was that a good sign?
“You’re forgiven. I’ve done some soul searching myself.” She twisted the cords of her hood between her fingers. “You were right. This job isn’t about God, it’s about me. And if I really want to go for it, then I have options. But I think I need to pray about the path ahead.”
And did that include him?
Natalie took a deep breath, and he braced himself.
“In light of that, I want to talk about us.”
No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
But he forced a strangled “Okay” past his lips.
She smiled. “I love you.”
He rested his hands on her waist, unable to speak. She loved him. All the mistakes, all of the drama, all of the heartache. All his screwups. And she still loved him.
Dad’s words returned to him. You try. It counts.
This time he’d not only try, but he’d believe they could make it. This family, for all of its dysfunction, would be a group of people who stuck by each other.
Thirty-six hours of stress and no sleep had left his brain full of cotton balls. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
She tipped her head to one side. “Speechless? Finally?”
He drew a finger along her jaw and tipped her chin up. “Not quite.”
> He dipped his head, and her eyes fluttered shut. He kissed her, long, sweet, and slow, and the “Hallelujah Chorus” roared.
Epilogue
“Oliver just ate his flower.”
Natalie turned at the sound of Lili’s exasperated voice behind her, one hand holding her cream chiffon skirt above the grass.
“I’ll fix it.” Mom scooped a finger into the toddler’s mouth, removing three mushed petals and a leaf.
The four of them stood outside a barn door on a rural property owned by a church family. The May sun warmed Natalie’s bare shoulders as she adjusted the sweetheart neckline of her gown for the millionth time. Bunting, tacked to the outside of the barn, fluttered in the gentle breeze. The heels of her nude pumps sank into the rich soil as the smell of fresh grass and springtime filled her lungs.
Today was her wedding day.
She brushed a chewed piece of stem from Olly’s miniature gray suit.
The little boy waved a hand at her. “Momma, uppa.”
She grinned. Would that ever stop feeling weird? She gathered her son into her arms and pressed a kiss to his soft cheek. By this time next week, she’d probably forget that he’d ever called her anything else.
“Are you ready?” Mom held out her bouquet, a Lili creation of brilliant pink roses, hydrangeas, and spray roses mixed with an array of wild greenery that gave it an enchanting, untamed feel.
Natalie placed Olly in Lili’s arms, careful not to brush his lipstick-stained cheek against the girl’s mint-green dress. She rubbed his cheek with her thumb to remove the strawberry-frosting-colored mark, then took her flowers from Mom. “I’m ready.” A grin broke across her lips as she spoke.
Mom passed Lili a single long-stemmed rose.
Lili fired off a text to Nick, tucked her phone under Oliver’s vest, and a moment later the sounds of Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking of You” filled the air.
“Good luck, Nat.” Lili leaned in for a hug, Olly between them. She pecked Natalie’s cheek, straightened her dress, and disappeared through the door.
Mom adjusted Natalie’s veil, which swished down her back from its diamanté clasp in her curly updo. Mom had abandoned her neon sweat suits in favor of a classy satin number, mint green to match Lili’s dress. Her right hand cradled an eight-by-ten photo of Dad. “I’m so proud of you, honey. We both are.”
