The Breakaway

by Michelle Davidson Argyle

  She turned around.

  “I’ll play a game with you,” she said as she glanced at the pool table and then back to Jesse. He had folded his arms, waiting. She lowered her eyes. “You’ll have to teach me.”

  VIII

  KAREN KNEW FLYING ALL THE WAY TO MAINE to be with her sister was a bad idea, but Jason practically forced her onto the plane. “Elizabeth needs you right now. It’s spring break for the kids, and you know how crazy that gets for her.”

  “Actually, I have no idea how crazy that gets for anyone,” Karen had told him. “I can’t afford to take time off work right now, and neither can you. The merger is in its most critical—”

  “I left all of that in capable hands, and you have Anna to smooth things over while you’re gone. We both need this.”

  Those words played through her mind as she stood in her sister’s kitchen on the third night of their stay. It was past midnight and she couldn’t sleep. It was obvious now that Naomi wasn’t coming back. The counselor Jason was making her see had finally pushed that into her head. Naomi was gone. Missing. Maybe dead. And the only thing she could do was keep breathing and pretend she was strong. Her career would see her through this, just like it had seen her through everything in her life, but now Jason had dragged her away and she had no idea what to do with herself.

  She stepped over a pile of toys and made her way to the coffee maker. Elizabeth’s house was a hazard zone of dried noodles on the floor, crumbs across the counter, and dirty dishes piled so high in the sink that Karen wasn’t sure there was a clean mug for some coffee.

  Elizabeth had four children, all rambunctious, little balls of energy. They made Karen wince every time they were around. Elizabeth never bothered to wipe off their sticky faces or hands. She let them run wild, and her messy house was the result. Why didn’t she hire a housekeeper? She could surely afford it with her husband’s healthy salary.

  In the moonlight spilling in from the windows, it took Karen five minutes to find a clean mug. She turned on the coffee maker and leaned down to look at it. How did this work? How did any coffee maker work? She hadn’t used one since college. Somebody always made the coffee at work, and Mindy always made the coffee at home, but it couldn’t be that hard. This machine seemed more complicated than most.

  “You awake?”

  Karen spun around to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail that made her look like a teenager. Karen was once again reminded how different they were from each other. Elizabeth was younger and sported flirtatious curves that let her get away with wearing clothes her nine-yearold daughter thought were cool.

  “Yeah, I can’t sleep,” Karen muttered, and turned back to the coffee maker.

  “Aren’t you taking those pills Jason said would help you sleep?”

  Karen let a loud sigh escape. “Yes, I’m taking them, but they obviously aren’t working, are they?” Before Elizabeth could answer, Karen turned around. “Anyway, why are you up?”

  “Sara was screaming about monsters under her bed.”

  “Again?”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “It’s a phase—it’ll pass.” She entered the kitchen and nudged Karen aside to start the coffee maker. “Are you sure you want coffee at this time of night?”

  “I’m not sure of anything anymore.” Karen slammed her mug onto the counter and walked to the sliding glass doors leading to the back porch. With tears forming in her eyes, she focused on a string of dark clouds floating across the moon. What she really wanted was for someone to knock her out for a week so she could get some rest. Jason wasn’t sleeping well, either. Sometimes he held her close and she felt his tears sliding onto her chest. So far she had avoided crying.

  “Karen, talk to me, please.”

  Elizabeth was standing with her arms folded across her chest. She looked just like their mother, Karen thought. Or at least how she wanted to remember their mother, strong and healthy, but no matter what she did she would never forget her in that hospital bed, her sallow skin and vacant eyes. The lung cancer had taken over quickly. Too quickly.

  “It’s over,” she finally said, squeezing back her tears. “I’ve lost Naomi just like we lost Mom. I spent my entire life wanting that woman gone, and then when it actually happened ....” Her voice cracked as she fought back more tears. She wouldn’t cry. She had to be stronger than Elizabeth because what she was about to say made her feel weaker than she had felt in a long time.

  “Things weren’t good between me and Naomi before this. I kept meaning to get closer to her, but how do you do that when your child has shut every door between you? She didn’t want to let me in, and there was no way I was going to force her to do anything—not how Mom used to poke and pester and worm her way into our lives.”

  “She only did that because she cared,” Elizabeth said quietly. “In her own way.”

  “But it was too much. She was lazy and stuck in a life she hated. I never wanted that for Naomi.”

  “Then what did you want for her?”

  The clouds slid smoothly across the moon like oil spilling across glass, and something dark stabbed Karen’s thoughts. She remembered making the decision to go back to work after Naomi was born. She remembered how easy it was to let nannies take over. Sometimes days went by without her even seeing Naomi. But she loved her daughter. Didn’t she? How could she doubt that?

  “I’ve given Naomi everything you and I never had,” she said, touching the glass doors in front of her. “A clean, beautiful home, private schooling when she was younger, the freedom to choose whatever she wants to do. I had to fight hard to get where I am. So did you. Naomi will never ... would never have had to ... struggle like we ....” Her voice died, and silence filled the kitchen. Tears were coming, and to keep them away she rubbed her fists into her eyes.

  “You said Mom was stuck in a life she hated,” Elizabeth said. “Do you think you’re any different?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Karen turned to face her sister, her heart pounding. The reporters had already made her feel like a failure. The last thing she needed was to hear it from her own blood.

  “I’m just asking if you’re happy.”

  “Well I’m not now. Naomi is—”

  “Forget about Naomi. Have you been happy?”

  “Of course I have. I’ve accomplished everything I’ve set out to do. I love my job. You know that.”

  Elizabeth turned back to the coffee maker, but she didn’t say anything. Her silence created bubbles of anger in Karen’s stomach. It wasn’t right for her own sister to judge her like this. Even Jason looked at her funny lately. She needed an escape. She needed some fresh air.

  “I’m going for a walk,” she muttered and unlocked the sliding glass door. She slipped onto the deck and pushed the door closed behind her. Making her way down the steps, she fished out her cell phone from her pocket. She kept the phone on her at all times just in case the detective or police called—and sometimes she liked to call Naomi’s number. Jason had told her to stop trying, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She glanced up at the deck to see if Elizabeth was following her. Not so far. Turning back to the darkness, she walked to a grove of trees on the borderline of the property and sat down on a rock. The March air was cold, but calm. She pulled her knees to her chest and hit the speed dial she had set up a few weeks ago. Naomi’s number. She had never had that number in the phone before, but lately it was the only one she dialed. She put the phone to her ear and listened.

  It went straight to voicemail, as usual. Karen listened to Naomi’s message. Her voice was clear and happy. It was almost musical with a slight undertone of deepness to it, like Jason’s. Listening to her made Karen’s heart beat so fast it felt like it might leap from her chest. She had never missed Naomi before, but now she did. It was a sharp ache in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Maybe it was guilt, but she suspected it was more than that.

  The voicemail ended. The beep sounded, and Karen wai
ted for a moment as the machine recorded her breaths. She wanted to say something. She always wanted to say something, but nothing ever came. She ended the call and dialed the number again just to listen to Naomi. Then again.

  “That won’t solve anything.” Elizabeth’s voice came out from the dark.

  Karen jerked with surprise and ended the call. “Damn it, Lizzy, don’t surprise me like that.”

  “Sorry. You don’t think I’d let you wander out here all by yourself, do you? Not in the state you’re in.”

  “What state am I in?”

  “Shock.”

  “That’s not true.” It couldn’t be true. People in shock didn’t fly out to stay with their sister. People in shock didn’t keep working and functioning like a normal person.

  Elizabeth shrugged and sat on the ground by Karen’s feet. She looked up. “I just want you to know I’m here for you, but I’m not going to pretend nothing is wrong. You can keep denying how you feel or you can do something about it.”

  Karen stood and grabbed a thin tree branch above her. She snapped it off and threw it into the underbrush. Elizabeth’s face was blue in the shadows and a patch of light from the kitchen made her eyes glow.

  “There is nothing I can do.” Karen snapped at her. “Nothing. The police will only investigate for so long, and the detective I hired has already run out of leads. All anyone found was some glass from a broken taillight in the parking lot by drops of Naomi’s blood.”

  “Yes, you told me about that earlier. Have they tried to match the taillight with a car?”

  “I think so, but that isn’t much to go on. They’re going to give up.”

  “But they’ve barely started. I haven’t seen anything about it here in Maine yet. You should get this on national television. The more people who know about it, the better chances of her being found. You have the money and means to do something like that.”

  Karen gritted her teeth and squeezed the phone in her hand. “It’s hopeless. Why can’t you see that? People disappear every day. This isn’t any different.”

  “But it should be!” Elizabeth stood up just as the sliding glass doors opened on the deck and little Sara stepped outside.

  “Mommmmy!” she wailed, tears streaming down her face as she clutched a tattered, stuffed kitten to her chest. “I need you. Please, Momma, please.”

  “I have to go,” Elizabeth said with a dark glance at Karen. “But I just wanted to say it should be different. She’s yours. You’ve spent your entire life trying to shove her out of your life. Maybe you didn’t mean to, but now it’s time to change. It doesn’t matter if she’s gone.”

  Karen watched her sister jog back to the house and scoop Sara into her arms. She couldn’t remember scooping up Naomi like that or drying her tears in the middle of the night. Did she deserve to miss her? To her, the answer was clearly no.

  She sat back down on the rock and looked at her phone again. She didn’t have any pictures of Naomi to look at. The only thing she had left in the entire world was Naomi’s voice over the phone. She dialed the number again, only this time she spoke after the beep.

  IX

  April

  NAOMI’S KIDNAPPERS KEPT THEIR WORD and let her out every evening for dinner. It was weird sitting with them night after night, pecking at her food like a bird. She was hungry, but her nerves put her so much on edge she could hardly swallow. When Evelyn asked her if she would rather eat in her room, she thought for several minutes, but finally answered no. If she was going to get on their good side, the best thing to do was spend time around them. Eric was nice to her now, and she didn’t want that to go away. Sometimes he still looked like he wanted to slam her against the wall and scream at her, but that was rare now. Still, she reminded herself of that darkness, of how easily he might hurt her again.

  “Isn’t Evelyn’s food great?” Jesse asked her one evening as he took her upstairs to the den. “She’s Italian, you know. She lived in Italy with her grandmother. She must have learned all her secrets there.”

  “Her cooking is really good,” Naomi answered softly as they approached the pool table.

  “You think so? You never eat very much.”

  She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. Jesse turned to her, waiting. Lately, he always waited for her to answer his questions, an unbending look in his eyes that said he wouldn’t accept silence.

  “It’s weird down there with all of you,” she stuttered. It was the only explanation she could think of. “Eric tries to make small talk with me, and you’re all so nice to each other, even to me. It’s weird, that’s all. I mean, who eats dinner together every night like that?”

  A soft smile played on his lips. “I get it. Everything inside of you expects us to hurt you, and we’re not doing anything like that.”

  She shifted her feet. “Only because I haven’t tried to get away. If I did that, you’d—”

  “Eric would kill you.” He stepped closer and took hold of her arm. “You know that. I see it in your eyes, the way you hold your breath around him, the way your face goes white as a sheet. He sees it too. If you give him a chance, I promise you’ll see a different side of him. It took me a long time too.”

  She looked away. She already saw the other side of Eric—the nice side—and she wanted it to stick. The mean side made her want to punch something—or run into a corner and hide. She hated the way he made her feel. Jesse was different, more in control. Steady.

  He released her arm and walked to the wall where the cue sticks hung, grabbing two and handing her one. “Chalk up and we’ll get started. Maybe one day I’ll let you win.”

  She smiled and took the cue stick. In a lot of ways she liked the way he treated her. He didn’t try to hide his emotions or ignore her situation. It didn’t seem to make him as uncomfortable as it made the others. He had an odd sense of humor she connected with, and she didn’t feel like he would seriously hurt her no matter how much he invaded her space. Things were stable so far. Of course, that could end any second depending on her actions, and right now all she could manage was the lame flirting idea. She was such a coward.

  She chalked her cue stick as he did the same. “Can I break?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  He stepped aside and she acted flustered for a moment before bending over. She hit the cue ball with a soft nudge, barely breaking the rack.

  “That won’t do,” Jesse chuckled. “I’ll let you try again if you like.”

  She laughed inside too. For weeks she had pretended stupidity when it came to pool. She wanted chances for him to be close to her, and so far teaching her pool was giving her exactly that. The whole idea might seem lame, but at the moment it was the only way out she could see. It was quiet and deliberate and almost felt safe. “I’m sorry,” she said with a frown. “I’ll do better.”

  “You just need to hit it harder. You’re not balancing it right, either. Remember what I showed you last time?”

  She lowered her eyes. “I guess I forgot.”

  “Let me show you again.” He smiled, stepping behind her. His chest touched her shoulder blades as he leaned closer, loosely wrapping his arms around hers. He moved the cue stick into place and balanced it next to her thumb.

  “Like this,” he explained near her ear, his breath moving across her skin. Then he folded her forefinger over the smooth grain finish of the cue stick. “Or like this. The key is to feel comfortable.”

  He could have pulled away at that point, but he didn’t. She tried to imagine herself wanting him, breathing in the clean, peppery scent of his cologne. It wasn’t a hard thing to imagine. Maybe she really did want him. He was wrapped around her, a pocket of warmth. The soft material of his sleeves pressed against her bare arms as his breath caressed the side of her face. Time stood still for a moment. She leaned a fraction of an inch against those strong muscles. Her breath almost stopped.

  “I can show you a few more ways,” he said, clearing his throat. His hands still rested lightly against
her fingers on the cue stick.

  “No, I think I’ll try again.”

  He stepped away. The air grew cold again as she leaned over the table and sent the cue ball into the rack—probably too soundly since she hit the one-ball dead on and with more force than she ever managed with Brad.

  She straightened and Jesse grinned as he waited to see if any of the balls fell into a pocket. They didn’t, and he walked to another end of the table. “Good job, but it’s still an open table, so now it’s my turn, okay?”

  “I remember that rule, yeah.”

  He pocketed three striped balls and then missed an easy shot, either because he was too busy darting his eyes back and forth between her and the table or he wanted to give her another chance. Either way, it made her heart race. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

  She flashed her eyes a few times in his direction, missing what should have been an effortless shot. Straightening, she rubbed her arms. Her dreams still swarmed with dragons, and they lingered in her waking hours too, circling over the burning valley like scavengers. Shivering, she watched her body split in half as she hit the rocks.

  “Are you cold?”

  She trembled when he walked to her and ran his hands up her bare arms covered with goose bumps. Why did his touch have to feel so good?

  “I-I guess so.”

  “Do you want me to get you something warm to put on? Didn’t Evelyn give you a sweater? Pink?”

  She nodded and tried to relax the tension in her body. The dragons in her head flew away. “It’s in my closet,” she said. “On a hanger.”

  He tightened his grip, the attraction in his eyes completely obvious. She remembered him in her room, his hand on her face, how he could take whatever he wanted and she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

  “I’ll be right back, okay?”

  She nodded and watched him leave the room. There was the clatter of Evelyn washing dishes downstairs.