Sexy Bachelor

by Maggie Monroe

  “Dad, he does this all the time.” I was irritated with my father. He had been removed from Garrett’s life for so long he had either forgotten the pattern or failed to see it. Garrett would show up in the morning.

  “No, it’s more serious. It’s been two weeks since they’ve seen him.”

  “Two weeks?” I eked out the question. “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. They didn’t think it was a big deal until now.”

  “How could it not be a big deal? He’s off his meds. He’s bi-polar. Episodes like this are a huge deal. Who are these guys?” I pulled a pillow to my chest. “Who have you called? The police? Mom?” The last part sounded strange. My parents never spoke.

  “Your mother doesn’t know. I asked them not to call her.”

  “Holy shit, Dad.” I tried to process it. What to do next. How to react. What to say.

  “If I tried to call her I know she’d blow up. Start yelling. Blame me for all of Garrett’s mistakes. I thought you should be the one to tell her. It will go much better.”

  I heard an unusual sadness in his voice. Defeat.

  “Dad…”

  “I know. I know. But it will be best coming from you.”

  “There’s no good way to drop this on her. What else can I tell her? What have the police said?” I wanted to take notes. That made me feel as if I had some kind of control. The legal side of my brain kicked in.

  “There’s not much to say. There is no suspicious activity.”

  “Did they issue a Silver Alert?”

  I found a pen rolling around in my desk. I tore a piece of paper from the back of my journal.

  My father continued with a limited rundown of what he knew. “No. He doesn’t meet the criteria. Besides, your mother would be go crazy if we made this public.”

  “I don’t care if it’s public. He could be hurt or in danger. Why doesn’t Garrett meet the Silver Alert requirement?”

  “I don’t fully understand it myself. Maybe you could talk to the police. They’ll listen to you. Tell them you’re an attorney in D.C. That will pull some weight.”

  “I don’t think they care if or where I practice law. I’m not one of them. But I’ll make some calls.”

  “Can you be here in the morning?”

  “Of course. I’ll book a flight.” It was trivial, but I listed plane tickets as one of the bullet point items on my sheet of paper.

  “I’ll pick you up. Send me the time you land.”

  I was about to tell him not to bother, but I realized how harsh that would sound given the circumstances. He was worried. Panicked enough to call me in the middle of the night. For the first time in years he had asked for my help. He had reached out to me.

  “Sounds good. I’ll let you know when I can get there. And I’ll call Mom. You’re right. I should take care of that. The last thing she needs is one of Garrett’s friends scaring her to death. I’ll do it.”

  But what would I say? How would I tell her Garrett’s friends reached out to Dad instead of her? And when she discovered it had been two weeks since anyone had seen him she would crumble. Every part of her would collapse with the realization that he was in real danger. This wasn’t one of his tantrums. It wasn’t an act of defiance over something trying to control his life. This was different. I could feel it.

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  He hung up and I tried to get my feet under me. I shuffled to my dresser and unplugged my laptop.

  I scanned prices for one-way tickets to New Bern. The airport was small, so there were no direct flights, but with a connection in Raleigh, it was still quicker than driving seven hours.

  I booked a 7 a.m. flight. Next, I scrolled through Garrett’s account. I sent him messages on every one, including a text, and left a voicemail. I debated how stern to be, but decided he needed to know I was worried.

  I hesitated about calling my mother. If I alerted her now she wouldn’t go back to sleep. She’d be a nervous wreck. There was no way to assure or comfort her. I held the phone in my hand, knowing I was making a decision that was possibly not mine to make.

  I yanked the charger from the wall and stuffed it in my carry-on bag. I’d call her from the airport. At least then she’d know I was on the way. It would give her a distraction—something to focus on that didn’t involve picturing her son in a hospital or lifeless somewhere.

  I turned the shower on and tried to wake up under the hot water. I was almost numb to what was going on. I went through the motions, pushing out the thoughts of my brother. I had to get to the airport. I had to get on the plane. I had to get home.

  ***

  By the time the wheels skidded on the runway in New Bern, I had lost some of my resolve. Somewhere in the air on the short flight it had evaporated.

  This wasn’t how I planned to return home for the first time. I was counting on Thanksgiving. I tried to hold on to the image of Vaughn seeing my town for the first time. I saw home with a new lens when he was in the picture. I imagined taking him to the waterfront. Showing him my own version of the Jefferson Memorial. Going to a pumpkin farm. Maybe even going on one of the Christmas light tours.

  I powered on my phone and tapped his name. I needed to hear his voice.

  It went straight to voicemail.

  “Hey, it’s me.” I paused. “I had to fly home for an emergency. I’m ok, but call me when you can. Please.”

  I closed my eyes. As much as I didn’t want to bring him into this, I suddenly needed him in it. I wanted him with me. He would know what to say. What to do. I was sure of it.

  The flight attendant opened the door and I stood to pull my luggage from overhead. The plane was small. I exited onto the staircase and walked across the jet way.

  A man in front of me dropped his scarf. I stooped to pick it up for him.

  “Thank you.” He smiled.

  “No problem.” I stopped in front of the retractable doors. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want the nightmare to begin.

  Because that’s exactly what was ahead of me.

  Chapter Twenty

  There was a slight hum inside the airport. There were a few people milling around. It wasn’t far from the gate to the baggage carousel. In only a few steps I would face my father again. A man I hadn’t spent time with in close to a year.

  Damn it, Garrett. Damn you for making me do this.

  I often wondered if life would have been easier if my father had moved away instead of remaining in town after the divorce. He owned a cabinet business. It was unrealistic to think he would sell the company or try to move it to another location.

  And my mom? What ties did she have to New Bern? She made the argument she couldn’t leave because of Garrett and me. But we had been adults far too long to latch on to that last thread of an excuse.

  It was her enabling that allowed him to stay on this road. As long as she fed into Garrett’s needs, he would never truly be healthy.

  The doors closed behind me. I walked through the terminal angry and bitter. Scared for my brother. Resentful that I had flown here under the most impossible circumstances.

  His hands were stuffed in his pockets. I didn’t know why he still wore that floppy golf cap. In a small town like this it had become his signature look.

  “How was the flight?” He walked toward me.

  “Hi, Dad.” It felt strange to move in for a hug, but I put my arm around him. It was an automatic response.

  “I parked by the curb.”

  “What about security? Can you do that?”

  He waved his hand. “They won’t tow me.”

  I pushed down my anger at his arrogance. He didn’t think rules applied to him. Even laws regarding travel security. Maybe in a small town like this he could get away with walking away from his parked car, but anywhere else he would be questioned and his car towed.

  I followed him outside.

  I stared at the sports car my father walked toward.

  “This is yours?”


  He patted the top. “She is. I’ve always wanted one.”

  It was two-door and red. I pushed the passenger seat forward so I could place my bags in the backseat. I climbed in to the leather upholstery. The engine started with a purr.

  “Where are we going first?” I asked.

  “Wherever you think we can find your brother.”

  “We’re doing this together?” I sounded stunned.

  I hadn’t gotten any sleep since he awakened me. My eyes burned. I needed coffee.

  “We need to start looking for him. What do you suggest?”

  He turned out of the airport and onto the road that took us to the beach. It was a forty-five-minute drive to where Garrett had moved. But I hadn’t seen his new place. I didn’t know where he worked. I didn’t know the guys he hung around with.

  The guilt ate away at me. For the first time in our lives, I knew almost nothing about his daily life. And this was the time I needed that information the most.

  I stared out the window as the sports car climbed over a bridge. I looked down below at the sailboats in the marina. It was a gray dreary day. The kind that made me want to curl under the covers and sleep until the clouds passed. A day I’d much rather spend with Vaughn, reading and working on crosswords. A day we could lock ourselves away from the reality of my family.

  I wish I knew how to do that. How to build a wall around the cracks in my heart to spare myself this pain. To protect myself from the lunging claws that wanted to drag me down into depths I couldn’t escape. I was so lost in it until I met Vaughn. He un-broke me.

  And it never felt more apparent than it did right now.

  Our months together had been a shield from this. With Vaughn I figured out how to live with a new focus. A new goal. One that didn’t include Garrett’s vices and the stain he had smeared on my choices. Every one had been for him. I had sacrificed so much for my brother. For his illness. And until Vaughn, no one had looked out for me. No one cared if I was happy. If I was following my dreams. Pushing forward to make something out of my life.

  Finding someone to love had rescued me from the cycle. Vaughn had inexplicably put me back together when I hadn’t asked for it. He knew I needed it before I did.

  My phone rang.

  “If that’s your mother tell her we’re taking care of this.” My father’s voice was gruff.

  It was Mom. I tucked the phone close to my ear.

  “Hello.”

  “Honey, are you here? Are you coming to the house?” One word piled on the next.

  “I’m with Dad.” I looked at my driver. He was almost a stranger to me. “We’re going to Garrett’s work and apartment. I can call you when we get to the beach. Let me get there so I can try to get a handle on things.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  I closed my eyes. I knew she would want to be a part of this. But putting my parents together would only slow us down. Crisis didn’t draw them together. They reacted like gasoline being doused on a flame until it was so out of control the fire couldn’t be put out. I couldn’t let them near each other right now.

  “I think you need to stay at the house in case Garrett calls or shows up,” I lied. “Someone needs to stay in New Bern.”

  “Then your father can stay and you and I will go look for him. He doesn’t get a say in this. Put him on the phone. I want to talk to him.”

  “No, Mom. That’s not a good idea. He’s driving.”

  “I don’t care, Emily. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to decide to suddenly be a parent. Put him on the phone.”

  My father glanced at me. He knew she was upset. He had predicted it. He had tried to avoid it.

  “I’m not going to do that.” I sighed. “I’ll call you when we get to Garrett’s. I will.”

  “I can’t sit here like this,” she pleaded. “He doesn’t have a right to search for him while I stay at the house.”

  Sitting. Waiting. They were the actions that led to crazy. The futility of hoping the phone would ring. I knew it would tear at her. It would begin to corrode her sanity. But there was something practical about sticking with my dad. His lack of emotion. His ability to move forward when everyone else was paralyzed with emotion—that was what would help us find Garrett. My mother couldn’t get out of her own way. I didn’t have another option.

  “Mom, please…” I knew anything I said wouldn’t matter. She’d be hurt I left her. She’d be angry thinking I chose my father over her to help. “Just, hang in there. I’ll call you soon. We’re going to find him. I love you.”

  I hung up and clasped the phone in my lap. I waited for it to ring. She usually called back within minutes, but a few miles later she still hadn’t tried.

  “Want to stop to get some coffee or something?” Dad offered.

  I nodded. “Yes. Coffee would be good.”

  He pulled into a fast-food restaurant, ordering two coffees at the drive-thru. At the window he took one and passed it to me. He drove off before I could ask for creamer. He didn’t bother to ask me.

  I pressed the plastic piece in the lid to let the steam escape.

  “What’s the last thing you heard from the police?” I asked. “What are they doing to help us?”

  He turned down the classic rock station. “They aren’t doing a damn thing. They checked the local holding cells. That’s about it. He’s an adult. He lives on his own. He’s not a threat to anyone. That’s what they told me.”

  Silver Alert requirements were different in every state. North Carolina had its own set of qualifications and Garrett didn’t meet the criteria to pose a threat to himself or anyone else. We were the only ones who saw the peril he was in.

  “Have you called the hospitals?” I pushed.

  “I did. But not past Carteret County.”

  That was something I could start working on while we drove. I pulled up a list of medical centers in the surrounding counties.

  “What about his bank account? His credit cards?”

  My father shook his head. “I don’t have access to that stuff. I don’t know where he banks.”

  If Garrett had used his cards it would certainly give us a location. If he had left Atlantic Beach, it might make it harder to find him, but it would be something. Right now, we needed a starting point.

  “Did you call Kelly?”

  “No. Why? Why would I call her?”

  “Dad, she’s his kryptonite. You didn’t try her?”

  “What the hell does that even mean? Kryptonite.” He slowed as we approached a red light.

  I sighed. “They had the most toxic relationship. If she came back to town, or reached out to him it would explain why he ran off suddenly.”

  “What was so toxic about it?” He pushed on the gas as the light turned to green.

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Have you actually blocked out the past five years of our lives?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “It means if you had paid any attention, you would know that Garrett dated Kelly off and on for years. That she’s the one who introduced him to coping with his problems with alcohol and drugs. She’s the one who convinced him he didn’t need therapy. She’s the one who thought they should get married and move to California.” I was so angry I could almost crumple the coffee cup in my fist. “She took his money, Dad. She cheated on him. She ruined him. Where were you for that? Where in the hell have you been?”

  “I’ve been trying to put my life back together,” he yelled.

  I stiffened in my seat. My shoulders seized. My breath stuck in my lungs.

  He exhaled, gripping the steering wheel. “It hasn’t been easy for anyone, Emily.”

  “I didn’t say it was,” I seethed. “But you should know this stuff. You should have done more.” I flinched as soon as I said it. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair. I wasn’t the only one in the car who was scared. What I said was insensitive.

  Instead of retaliating he reached forward and tapped the computer screen, fill
ing the car with an electric guitar solo. It was too loud to make my calls to the medical centers or to Kelly. We didn’t speak another word until we arrived at the auto shop.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The guys my brother had gone into business with weren’t much help. Other than a spare key to his apartment they couldn’t give us any leads.

  We left the auto garage and my father drove us to the one-bedroom place Garrett rented on the sound-side of the island. He had a parking lot view. We climbed the steps to the second floor.

  “Garrett?” I knocked on the door before trying the key. “Garrett, it’s Emily.” I stepped inside, Dad right behind me.

  I walked over a drawing and then another. I looked down. The floor was covered in art work.

  “What the hell is this?” There was anger in his voice.

  My father bent to pick up one of the sketches. He held it forward.

  I moved toward the bedroom. The covers were strewn across the bed, but it didn’t look as if Garrett had neglected the apartment. I’d seen the state of his room when he went on one of his tirades. It wasn’t like this. The hamper was empty. The bathroom was clean. I checked the trashcan—no needles.

  I met my father in the living room. He was busy shuffling through Garrett’s art.

  “Does he do this often? Draw like this?”

  I nodded. “Always.”

  He stacked the sketch paper and sat on the couch. “Did you see anything in his room?”

  “It’s surprisingly neat. I don’t know what that means. If it means anything.” I pulled up a milk crate and took a seat. I was relieved I hadn’t found any drugs.

  Quiet seconds passed. “Dad, why don’t we split up? I’ll get a car and I’ll drive around here. You can try New Bern or retrace where you’ve already been. I think it would be better.”

  He stared at the trunk Garrett had turned into a coffee table. “It’s true I don’t know him like you do.”

  “That’s not what—” I hadn’t planned on lecturing him about how much he didn’t know about his adult children. It was obvious. It was clear. We were all strangers.