by Alter, Judy
His hands were on his hips in indignation. “Donna let her lover buy her daughter clothes? What did Tom do?”
“Let’s not go into all that now. Just trust me. Tom loves his family and wants to keep them together. I think that’s his weak point.”
He turned away abruptly. But the set of his shoulders told me he was angry. “We can’t stand here analyzing. I believe in action. Go back to the café.”
By the time I got there, Donna had gone home—to wait for Ava, according to Marj. But it seemed to me half the town of Wheeler was there, milling about. Nobody was eating, though most held cups of coffee.
“Word got around,” Marj explained, spreading her hands helplessly and then wringing them on her apron. “I made coffee on the house. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No, good idea. You haven’t seen Tom, have you? He’s supposed to bring Henry and Jess.” I’d no more than spoken than he came through the door, holding Jess in his arms, big as she was, and pushing Henry in front of him. Wordlessly he gave me a huge hug, and I could hardly bear the pain in his eyes. But there was something else there too. Anger. Clear, cold anger.
“This is Donna’s fault. I blame her completely. And when we find Ava, it’s not over.” This wasn’t Tom, the gentle teddy bear of a man I knew; this was an angry, determined man I barely recognized. And he frightened me a bit.
“I’ve got to go,” he said. “Try to keep these two calm, though this crowd”—he gestured toward the people milling around—“won’t help. I’m gone.”
And he left, though I had no idea where he’d gone.
People came in for dinner, but by now word had spread around town, and inevitably most people stopped at the corner table where I’d put Henry and Jess. Comments ranged from “You poor dears,” to “I know you’re scared,” and “It will all be all right. Ava will come home.”
If she can, I couldn’t help thinking. What if someone snatched her?
Gram spoke at last—did she know I’d been waiting. “Kate, she’s safe, and she’ll be all right. Take care of her family. You’ll have your chance to take care of Ava.”
Thanks, Gram. And just what do I tell Donna…and Rick…and Tom?
As if on cue, Donna stormed into the café. “She’s not coming home. I know that, and I can’t sit around an empty house by myself waiting. I’ve got to do something.”
I tried to soothe her, imagining what she was going through. If I was so upset, what must the child’s mother be feeling? In a flash, she told me.
“I feel betrayed. It’s this town. She got tired of living here and went to find a life for herself. But she’s too young. She just doesn’t know that yet.” And then she said the words I dreaded, “Oh, if only Irv were here.”
“He’s not,” I said, perhaps too harshly, “and Tom is and he’s worried to death about his daughter.”
“Well, I am too,” she wailed.
Sure, but you’re worried about yourself, Donna Bryson!
Tom came in and said almost roughly to Donna, “Come on. Let’s go home and wait. Rick put out an APB so officers all around are on the alert. I described her, gave him a photo and, best as I could remember, told him what she’s wearing.”
“Why doesn’t he put out an Amber Alert?” Donna complained.
“Because there’s no proof of abduction. In fact, I don’t think she’s been abducted.”
“She only had a light denim jacket,” Donna moaned. “She’ll be cold.”
Tom didn’t even look at her, just took her arm and led her out, saying over his shoulder, “Kate, will you take care of Henry and Jess?”
“Of course. I think I’ll take them home with me.”
And that’s what I did, because the constant cloying attention they were getting made them nervous. Jess was on the verge of tears, and Henry just looked down at the tablecloth every time someone new approached. Marj agreed to close for me, giving me a tight hug and adding, “I’m saying a prayer.”
I thanked her, gathered up the children, and sneaked out the back door. It had grown chilly, and as we crossed the lot to Gram’s house, Jess asked in a tiny voice, “Do you suppose Ava is cold?”
“I hope not,” was all I could say.
I settled them with grilled cheese sandwiches, poured myself a glass of wine, and called my sister’s house. Tom answered, and I hated that for a minute I had gotten hope up in his mind. “Tom, the kids are settled, eating grilled cheese. If it’s okay with you, I’ll bathe them, put them in some of my T-shirts, and tuck them in Gram’s bed. Their homework can wait. This is an extraordinary situation. Homework be damned.”
Behind me, I heard Henry gasp.
Tom’s voice was tighter and more controlled than I’d ever heard it. “Yeah, Kate, and this isn’t a place for them to be right now. I’m grateful. I’ll talk to their teachers tomorrow—after we see what tomorrow brings.”
Neither Henry nor Jess were interested in bathtub games—Henry was too old and insisted on taking a shower “in privacy,” while Jess was just plain pitiful. As I toweled her dry, she clung to me, her thin body trembling, and cried. “I’m scared, Aunt Kate. Scared for Ava, and I guess scared for myself.”
“It’s all right to be scared, sweet girl. I’m sure we’ll find Ava, but right now, we’re all scared. And look at the bright side—you don’t have to practice your spelling tonight.”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t an enthusiastic reply.
We got teeth brushed and headed for Gram’s room to say prayers and get in bed, though Henry protested he was too old to sleep with his little sister.
“Henry,” I said gently, putting an arm around his shoulders, “Jess needs you right now. She needs comfort.”
“Okay.” He reached out and patted his sister’s back. “I’ll take care of you, Jess.”
She looked at him with pure trust.
I wish I had that kind of relationship with my sibling!
I flipped on the light in Gram’s room…and there she was. Ava was sound asleep in Gram’s bed. The light wakened her, and she sat up, dazed, slowly recognizing us.
“What’s going on? Why are Henry and Jess here?”
I threw my arms around her. “Better question, sweetie. Why are you here? Do you know the whole town’s looking for you? Your parents are worried to death, and so was I. You could have come here if you’d asked, but why did you just leave your mom waiting for you at school? Chief Samuels has put out a bulletin. We were afraid you’d been kidnapped. We’ve all been terrified.”
Ava rubbed her eyes. “Really?” Her face brightened just a bit, as though the news that people worried about her was reassuring. Then she slumped. “I’ve caused a big problem, haven’t I?”
Now that she was safe, I wasn’t inclined to let her get away with much. “Yes, you have. And you owe a lot of us an explanation. First, I have to call your parents and Rick…and Sara Jo, who’s waiting at the B&B. You all go in the kitchen, and I’ll fix hot cocoa.”
I made the calls, quickly giving my message. Rick and Sara Jo were relieved; Tom shouted, “Hallelujah!” and Donna cried. They wanted to rush right over, but I suggested they wait a bit, maybe half an hour, until I could get the children settled. That was because I was listening to Gram.
“Kate, keep those children with you tonight. They need love and peace.”
“Yes, Gram.”
Donna’s voice rose to shrill heights. “Why do I have to wait? I’m the child’s mother.”
Tom grabbed the phone and said, “I think you’re right, Kate. Get the younger ones in bed, feed Ava…I bet she’s starving…and then we’ll be over.”
And that’s just what I did. Henry and Jess went to bed over loud protests, but they went, and within ten minutes both were sound asleep. I gently closed the door to their room and went back to the kitchen, where Ava had devoured her sandwich and was eating an apple.
“I’m in big trouble, aren’t I?”
“Well, yes and no. We’re all so relieved that you’re safe, but at
the same time, you acted thoughtlessly. Didn’t it occur to you that we’d worry—a lot?”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking then,” she said simply. “I have to do my homework. I left my backpack in the living room.” She rose to get it, but I put out a hand.
“You get a pass on homework tonight. But your mom and dad will be here any minute, and we’ll all have to talk. And tomorrow I think you owe Chief Samuels an apology for causing him so much trouble.”
“How did I cause him trouble?”
“Ava, he alerted police all over the state to look for you.”
“Really?” Her eyes were wide. “Gosh, I didn’t know.”
To me, still wearing her jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt, she looked small and pitiful, as though she felt she was one child against the world. I got up and hugged her, and she returned the hug fiercely.
When Tom and Donna arrived, they wrapped her in their arms and told her over and over how relieved they were that she was home. Ava began to squirm just a bit, and Donna’s mood suddenly changed.
“Now, young lady, explain yourself.”
She sat back down at the table, and while I poured coffee, she said simply, “I just didn’t want to go home.”
“How could you not want to go home?” her mother demanded.
“Mom, you were honking to get my attention. That’s rude. None of the other mothers do that…I mean, Mom, I’m in high school now. You can’t treat me like a baby. I was embarrassed, so I ran.”
The gentle bear in Tom was back. “Why did you come here?”
“Because I always felt safe at Gram’s…and loved. And Aunt Kate makes me feel the same way.”
“You don’t feel safe at home?” Donna demanded.
“I don’t always feel loved. You’re so busy with the B&B and talking to Sara Jo, and Dad’s not home much. I know, Dad, you have a store to run and the town besides, but somehow….” She flung her hands out to either side of her. “Somehow, I just feel lost.”
Donna began, “Well, young lady, there will be consequences to your actions.”
But with a gentle hand on his wife’s arm, Tom stopped her. “I think it will take a lot of talking to get to the bottom of this. But it’s late now, and we’re all worn out with worry. We’ll work it out tomorrow. Ava, do you want to go home or do you want to stay here?”
“Stay here.” She seemed to shrink as she said it in the softest voice possible.
Donna opened her mouth, but again Tom stopped her.” “That’s fine. Kate, I’ll come by in the morning and get them. You go on to the café. Just lock the door. I have a key, and I’ll come early enough to bring them for buns before school.”
I nodded, while Donna cast an angry look at him, but Tom was unflustered. “Come on, Donna. We’re going home. You and I have to talk.”
I expected protests, but she followed him quietly. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in Donna’s shoes right then.
Chapter Seven
Ava sat at the kitchen table, looking utterly miserable. “I guess I’m just an awful person for causing so much trouble,” she said softly.
“Ava, you’re not an awful person. You’re young, and maybe confused, and a bit lonely. But you have so much ahead of you, so much to give. And you are so loved by so many people.”
She looked down at the hands clasped in her lap. “Mom doesn’t love me. She thinks I’m a bother. I liked it better before Irv got murdered. I know Mom shouldn’t have spent so much time with him, but he paid attention to me and bought me things and acted like I was a real person. So did Mom when he was around.”
Children know so much more about adults’ lives than we suspect. I was momentarily stunned into silence, but I finally collected my thoughts. “You know, you’re right about Irv in a lot of ways. But your dad loves you a lot. He was frantic tonight, and now he’s angry.”
“At me,” she said. “I suppose he’ll ground me for weeks. I don’t care. I don’t get to go anywhere or do anything anyway.”
Slow down, Kate. She’s a freshman in high school, a time when lots of girls feel lost and lonely. She’s just got a double burden. “No, I don’t think he’s angry at you. He’s angry at the whole situation that made you so unhappy that you felt you had to disappear.” I walked over and put an arm around her. “I’m so glad you disappeared to my house and didn’t go someplace scary.”
“Like Canton? Or even Dallas?”
“Yes, like that. You’re safe here, and you’re not always safe other places. Never forget that.”
We sat and talked, and I gradually eased some information out of her. Her mom’s friendship with Sara Jo bothered her. Sara Jo had been spending a lot of time at the high school, and, yes, she’d interviewed Ava.
“She wanted to know about Mom and Irv. I didn’t tell her much. I don’t figure it’s any of her business. You know what?” She looked at me as though changing the subject would make it all okay. “I think that Sara Jo person has a crush on one of the athletes at school.”
Wow! I don’t want to go there. “Surely not,” I said. “She’s old enough to be his mother.”
She giggled. “I know. That’s what we all think is so funny about it!”
“Who is we all?” Here was the kind of lead I wanted. Did Ava have girlfriends?
“Oh, some of the girls I pal around with. Francie is my BFF….” She looked at me. “Do you know what that means?”
“I’m not that old, Ava. Of course I know. She’s your best friend forever.” I didn’t say that would change six times before she got out of high school. If Ava was one of the lucky ones, it wouldn’t, and she’d have a lifetime friendship. “Who else?”
“Rachel and Deb and a few others. We talk about Sara Jo—she told us to call her that and not Ms. Cavanaugh—a lot. I think she’s trying to be our buddy, like she’s one of us. But she’s not.”
There it was again. Sara Jo’s presence in my town, like a vulture circling around the carcass. It made me shiver a bit.
“But she’s your mom’s buddy.”
“Yeah. Mom thinks her life is sophisticated, just like she thought Irv’s was. I wish Mom would just settle for being a mom. We don’t need the B&B. Dad makes enough money for us, if Mom would just stay at home, cook and clean and take us places like most moms do. Do you know, Aunt Kate, how awful it is to be always asking for a ride to basketball practice because my mom is busy?”
“Basketball practice? I didn’t even know you played until your mom mentioned it today.”
She got up and rinsed her cup at the sink, shoulders drooping in dejection again. “See? No one pays attention to me.”
She turned to go to bed, but I stopped her and wrapped my arms around her. “Ava, I will always pay attention to you. For starters, would you like to invite Francie and Rachel and Deb for a girls’ evening here? I’ll make homemade pizza, and we can do hair and nails and stuff like that.”
“Jess too?” Her question had a tentative quality to it.
“Nope. I’ll tell your dad to rent a movie for Jess and Henry. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a school day, and you have to be up early. The others are in Gram’s bed, so why don’t you sleep in your mom’s old room?”
For the first time that evening, she hugged me. “Thanks, Aunt Kate. I love you. And I always feel safe at your house.”
“Good. Always come here if you have a problem. Promise?”
Ava looked at me a long time and then said slowly, “I will. I can’t go to Mom, and I don’t want to add to Dad’s troubles. You’re the best, Aunt Kate.”
Her words made my heart both break and sing. I was so grateful she trusted me, but I was sad about her home situation. I hugged her fiercely, and she returned the hug. Then with a quick smile and “Sweet dreams,” she headed back to Donna’s old bedroom.
Morning would come too early.
Next morning, Ava was back to herself—sort of a balky teenager. I had left them for Tom to wake up and get ready. He brought them to the café and Ava had her usual di
sinterested expression. Except she poked her head into the kitchen before they left to say, “Thanks, Aunt Kate. I love you.”
I had to use a floured hand to wipe away a tear. “I love you too,” I said softly. That child would be all right.
“You did the right thing, Kate,” Gram said. “You’re going to have to help those children, until Donna straightens out her thinking…if she ever does.”
Thanks, Gram, for starting my day off on such an optimistic note.
****
Our first cooking lesson was nearly a disaster. I shouldn’t have left the planning to Donna. She didn’t leave enough time for the ladies to watch me cook the meal—they would take turns helping, since there wasn’t room for all of them to work at once—and get their children out of school or whatever other afternoon obligations. We changed the format: classes would run from noon to two-thirty, and for a minimal extra fee, the café would provide box lunches. I had visions of making extra tuna salad, but the ladies could choose from tuna or chicken salad or a cheese and cold cuts sandwich that I’d recently added to the menu.
Our first meal was chicken piccata, and I carefully explained they could use the same lemon-and-butter technique with fish or veal if they felt fancy. I offered two side dishes—whipped potatoes made with cream and a spinach casserole topped with French’s fried onions. Okay, I know—prepared food. But it would appeal to the men of the town, and they were our ultimate audience.
The ladies took copious notes, except for Sara Jo, who sniffed and didn’t much participate, but I noticed she kept her portion of the food for her supper.
It was a delight to see Carolyn Grimes at the class. She bubbled with happiness, and exclaimed, “Chester won’t know what hit him when I serve this. He’s used to chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and greens. But I think it’s time we went uptown.” She grinned at me.
“How’s Chester?”
“Oh, he’s fine as always. Nothing much to do but catch speeders, though last week we had some real excitement. A Peeping Tom. Chester was so mad anyone would do that in his town I thought he’d have a stroke. But all’s peaceful again.”
