In the upstairs bedroom, of course. Charlie was downstairs, alone, sleeping in a big-boy bed for the first time (Brad had neglected to set up the portable crib, despite his promise to Anna that he’d do so). Apparently, Brad had been too busy fucking his girlfriend to remember to lock the front door.
“If anything’s happened to Charlie, I’m going to kill Brad,” Anna said, her voice sharp with fear, as Noah raced toward Harbor Ridge, the neighborhood where Brad lived. “And I don’t mean that the way people usually say they’re going to kill someone. I mean it literally. I will literally end his life.”
“I’m sure Charlie’s fine,” Noah said.
But Noah didn’t know that; he couldn’t. He was just saying it, the way people always said that things will turn out fine when faced with a terrible reality. But things don’t always turn out fine, Anna thought, going cold. Some children really are kidnapped, or really do wander out of the house and drown. Bad things really can happen.
“I have to call my mother,” Anna said suddenly. “She’ll want to know. Shit, my phone—I didn’t bring it.”
In her frantic hurry to leave, Anna had left her purse and all of her other belongings back at Noah’s house. Noah didn’t have his with him either.
“I’ll call her for you as soon as we get there,” Noah promised, and Anna nodded distractedly. She turned away and watched the darkened suburban landscape pass by. Oddly, she wasn’t crying. It was as though the fear had dried her up on the inside.
When they got to Brad’s house, her ex-husband was walking around outside, a flashlight pooling a weak circle of light ahead of him into the blackness. He was bellowing Charlie’s name at regular intervals. Anna’s heart sank, and the breath left her body when she saw him. If he was still looking…
Oh, God. OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod.
Charlie.
She was opening the car door before Noah had come to a full stop, leaping out and running across the lawn.
“Have you found him?” she called out shrilly, although she knew the answer. But she had to hear him say it.
“No.” Brad’s reply was terse, and Anna could see that he was distraught. “Anna, I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
“Not now.” Anna held up a hand to silence him. “I can’t listen to that now. Right now all I want to do is find my son.”
“Have the police been called?” Noah asked, coming up behind Anna.
Brad looked at Noah blankly. “Who are you?”
“Noah Springer. I’m a friend of Anna’s. Have you called the police?”
“Yes, I already did. Bridget’s inside waiting for them.”
“Give me your flashlight,” Anna said, reaching for the large Maglite Brad was holding.
“I’ve already looked all around the house,” Brad said.
“I’m going to look again,” Anna said, clenching her teeth so hard, the muscles in her jaw ached. She’d keep looking for as long as she had to, until Charlie was safe in her arms.
And then she would never let him out of her sight again.
Brad found two extra flashlights, and he, Noah, and Anna prowled around Brad’s house and the neighbors’ houses, shouting Charlie’s name. Lights came on at a few houses, and people stepped out onto their front porches, wearing robes and peevish expressions, looking to see what all the commotion was. But as soon as they heard a child was missing, most of them joined in the search, until a small army was combing up and down the street, looking for the small boy. The police arrived, first in one patrol car, and then—when it became apparent that this was more than just another case of a child hiding in a closet and a panicked parent calling the police too quickly—more uniformed officers showed up.
Margo came too, but she was hysterical, screaming all of the terror and panic and fear that Anna hadn’t dared let out. She turned away as a neighbor led her mother off—to where, Anna had no idea, and at that moment she didn’t care. She couldn’t deal with her mother’s emotional breakdown right now. Not when it was taking everything Anna had to keep it together herself.
Charlie.
Bridget had stayed inside Brad’s house, which had been turned into headquarters for the search. She was a tall woman, big-boned, with a lovely face now pale and streaked with tears as she moved woodenly around the small kitchenette, brewing pots of strong coffee for the volunteers. She seemed nice, Anna thought, the sort of woman she might have been friends with in a different situation. If…
If this weren’t happening.
But it was. OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod—
No! I have to keep it together, Anna thought fiercely, another burst of adrenaline pushing her up from the swampy despair that kept threatening to drag her back down.
It was just after one in the morning, when expressions were growing grim, and the searchers kept looking worriedly toward the beach, and the first detectives had shown up on the scene, that a victorious shout rang out.
“I found him! I found him!”
Anna turned back from the beach—which she’d been going to search yet again—and began running toward the direction of the shout. She ran as hard as she could, her arms pumping, her feet flying beneath her, while her heart beat with hope. Please oh please ohpleaseohpleaseohplease…
And there he was! Charlie was in Brad’s arms, looking groggy with sleep, and—oh, God, yes! He was okay!
Anna raced to them and threw her arms around her son, practically ripping him away from Brad. She pulled Charlie’s solid, heavy body against hers, felt his arms slip around her neck and his head loll heavily against her shoulder.
“Mama,” Charlie said, his voice muffled. And then he let out a throaty chuckle and pulled back to grin up at her. “Hi, Mama!”
Anna’s legs suddenly gave out. She sank to her knees, still clutching her son to her chest, and said a silent prayer of thanks.
One of Brad’s neighbors had found him. Charlie had apparently wandered out of his father’s house and down the street before crawling under a bougainvillea bush and falling into the sort of deep, trancelike sleep that only small children are capable of. He didn’t wake up until the woman who found him had knelt down and shone her flashlight directly under the bush and into his face.
The thought of her two-year-old son outside and alone after dark, where he could have been hit by a car, or drowned in a neighbor’s pool, or attacked by an alligator, or abducted, or hurt in an endless number of ways, made Anna’s insides shift queasily whenever she thought about it. She let Brad take over the job of thanking the police and his neighbors who had helped with the search. Anna just sat there, with Charlie—now sleepy again—cuddled in her arms, while hot tears of relief leaked from her eyes. Even when Margo came out, sobbing with happiness and relief and wanting to give Charlie a hug of her own, Anna wouldn’t let go of him.
But when Charlie saw his grandmother, he reached out to her.
“Gigi,” he said sleepily. Margo took the opening as an opportunity to bundle the little boy into her arms, while she burst into loud, weepy tears.
“Anna,” Brad said, and Anna turned to look at her ex-husband.
“No. Not now,” she said simply, shaking her head. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Now I’m going to take Charlie home.”
Brad nodded. “I’m so sorry,” he said, lifting his hands up, palms facing out, as though waiting for his punishment.
Anna just looked at him. It was a heartfelt apology, she knew, and yet there wasn’t any point. It wasn’t like she’d ever be able to forgive him.
Or herself, for that matter.
“I’ll drive you home,” Noah said quietly from behind Anna. “Both of you.”
Anna turned to look at Noah. She’d forgotten that he was here. His face looked taut and strained, so unlike he had earlier that evening when they’d laughed and talked and made love in his car.
God, that was only five hours ago, Anna realized, and suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion hit her. One moment she was running on nerves and adrenaline, and the next
she felt like she was about to keel over.
“No,” she said. “Thanks, but my mom’s here. She’ll drive us home.”
“Are you sure?” Noah asked. He stepped closer and rested a hand on her arm. “If you don’t want to be alone, I can stay with you. On the couch, of course,” he hastened to add.
“My mom already has a seat for Charlie in her car,” Anna said. She wondered if she was making more sense than she thought. “It’ll be easier if she takes us.”
Noah pulled Anna toward him and kissed her on the forehead. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She turned away from him, back to where her mother was standing, covering Charlie in kisses while he giggled and squirmed in her arms. Anna made up her mind right then and there.
When Anna thought she could actually balance parenthood with a personal life, she’d made a terrible mistake. And with that mistake she’d put her son’s life at risk. Anna had come too close to losing Charlie.
It wouldn’t happen again.
She turned suddenly, running back after Noah, who had already reached his car.
“Noah, wait,” she said, her breath coming in little puffs when she reached him.
“Change your mind about the ride?” Noah asked. In the dim light of the streetlamp she could see that he looked exhausted, but he managed a crooked grin.
“No. I just wanted to say…thank you for tonight. For staying and helping,” Anna said.
“Of course I stayed,” Noah said. He reached out and brushed the back side of his hand against her cheek.
This deliciously intimate touch caused goose bumps to spring up on her shoulders and the back of her neck. Anna shivered but stepped back.
Despite the darkness, Noah read something in her face. His frown was quizzical, questioning. Anna nodded slightly, as though he’d already asked the question.
“Tonight was great, but…it was just tonight,” Anna said softly.
Noah shook his head slowly. “You had a bad scare tonight. I understand. But there’s no need to make any big decisions about where you and I stand. We can talk about it later, tomorrow, or in a few days.”
But Anna shook her head in reply. “No. I know this seems harsh, and I’m truly sorry for that, because…well.” Anna swallowed. “I care about you. More than I thought I would. More than I wanted to.”
Noah’s expression softened. “Anna—” he said.
“But I can’t do this,” Anna continued, as though he hadn’t spoken. “I just can’t. Not now. Not while Charlie is so young. I know it’s not what you want, but he has to be my first priority. My only priority. I’m just not one of those women who can juggle ten things at once and be amazing at all of them.”
“You don’t have to be. I don’t need you to be amazing. I just want to spend time with you. Get to know you better,” Noah said softly.
“The thing is,” Anna began. She stopped and swallowed before continuing. “You’ll be better off without me. You will. You’ll meet some nice woman, one who doesn’t already have a child and an ex-husband. And when you get married and start a family, you’ll both be doing it for the first time.”
Noah looked away, his face unreadable, and Anna was sure then, sure with a sickening certainty, that she was right. That Noah knew he really would be better off with a woman who came with less baggage.
But then Noah looked back, right at Anna, his dark eyes holding hers. And although his voice was quiet and hoarse with fatigue, she felt the force of his words as surely as if he’d been shouting them at her. “I’ve been engaged four times. Each time, I was as wrong as I could be. Maybe you have a history that’s messier than some; maybe you come with a few extra strings attached. But I’d rather have the mess, and the strings, and at the end of the day know I’m with the right person.”
Anna just stared back at him, her mouth sagging open. It was perhaps the most romantic, most amazing thing any man had ever said to her.
It took all of her effort to shake her head.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice no louder than a whisper.
“Anna! We should get Charlie home,” Margo called to her across the lawn.
Anna looked back to where her mother stood holding Charlie and saw that the search party had broken up. The neighbors were melting away, heading back to their homes to salvage what sleep could still be had. The police cruiser was backing out of the driveway. Brad was standing a good distance away from Margo, as though it was as close as he dared get to his son, and Bridget stood even farther away, her arms wrapped around her body.
“I have to go,” Anna said without turning back, keeping her eyes on her son, who looked like he was sleeping again, his head lolling against his grandmother’s shoulder. It took all of her self-control not to look back to see if Noah was watching her go.
sixteen
Chloe
Chloe shifted William from her right arm to her left in order to dial Anna’s cell-phone number.
“Hello.” Anna sounded exhausted.
“It’s me, Chloe. Are you okay?” Chloe asked, immediately concerned. “Did something happen on your date last night?”
Anna sighed. “Yes, but that’s a long, long story. I’ll tell you about it when I see you,” she said.
“Actually, that’s why I was calling. I wanted to see if you were up for a walk. I thought maybe we could head down to Manatee Park. I read in the paper this morning that there have been some manatee sightings. I thought Charlie would get a kick out of seeing them,” Chloe said.
“I’m sure he’d love that, but we can’t. Not today. I’m actually at the hospital.”
“What? What’s wrong? Is it Charlie?”
“No, not Charlie. It’s Grace. She fell yesterday.”
“She fell?” Chloe repeated. She thought of her great-aunt Marge, now deceased, who had once taken a nasty spill down some stairs and broken a hip. But Marge was an old lady at the time, with frail, brittle bones. Grace was a young, vivacious woman.
“They think it was that diet tea she’s been drinking. Remember how she got dizzy yesterday? Well, they think it happened again, only this time she fell, and she”—Anna paused and took in a deep, sighing breath—“hit her head first on the corner of the kitchen table and then on the tile floor.”
“What?” Chloe shook her head in disbelief. She hated to ask her next question. “But she’s going to be okay, right?”
Anna hesitated. “I don’t know. The fall caused her brain to swell, and until the swelling goes down…they’re not going to know,” Anna said. “Louis is in talking to the doctors now.”
“What about Grace’s kids?” Chloe asked. “Where are they?”
“Her dad and stepmom are staying with them,” Anna said.
“That’s good. Okay. What can I do?”
“Unfortunately, there’s nothing to do but wait,” Anna said. She sounded as though she were near tears, which just made Chloe feel even more helpless. She had to do something.
“Then I’ll come down there and wait with you,” Chloe said.
“Can you? That would be great. It’s been a bit unnerving sitting here alone,” Anna said. “I talked to Juliet a little while ago, and she said she’d come too.”
“I’ll be there in a half hour,” Chloe promised.
She hung up, just as James came into the kitchen. He had his hands in his pockets and was whistling off-key.
“Hello, my family,” he said. He leaned over to kiss first William, then Chloe, before stepping back and gesturing at his red golf shirt. “What do you think? It’s my Tiger Woods look. I thought a touch of the Tiger might help my game.”
“Game? What game?”
“I have a one o’clock tee time. I’m meeting Jack and Fritz. Didn’t I tell you? No? I thought I did.” James gave her a fond pat on the rump, and then turned to rummage through the kitchen cupboard. “Is there anything to eat?”
“No,” Chloe said.
“I’ll just make a sandwich,�
� James said, pulling down a jar of peanut butter.
“I meant no, you can’t go golfing today. I just found out that Grace is in the hospital. She’s unconscious. I said I’d go down, so you’ll have to stay and watch Wills.”
James stared at her. “But I have a tee time,” he said.
“James.” Chloe shook her head, not quite believing that he was arguing about this with her. “My friend is in the hospital. That’s more important than your golf game.”
“But you said she’s unconscious, right? So she won’t know whether you’re there or not,” James said. His boyishly handsome face looked petulant, and Chloe was suddenly overcome with the urge to slap him. Wills, watching his parents solemnly, blew a spit bubble.
“James, I’m going.”
He decided to try another tack. “Can’t you take Wills with you?”
“To a hospital? No, of course not.” Chloe thrust the baby toward James, who fumbled for a moment as he juggled Wills in his arms. He finally shifted his son, holding him under the armpits and looking down at William uncertainly. The baby responded with a gummy grin.
“Chloe,” James said, but she cut him off before he could lodge any additional protests.
“I have to get dressed and go,” Chloe said. She turned and walked out of the kitchen.
The ICU was on the ground floor of the hospital, in the same wing as the third-floor L&D unit where Chloe had delivered William. Chloe arrived brandishing a huge bouquet of sunflowers and stopped at the nurses’ station.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Grace Weaver. She’s a patient here in the ICU,” Chloe said.
The nurse glanced up. “You’ll have to stay in the waiting room for now, until the doctor clears Mrs. Weaver for visitors. Oh, and you can’t bring flowers back into the ICU.”
“Oh…right. Sorry,” Chloe said. She turned toward the waiting area the nurse had gestured to. Four rows of gray hard-shell chairs, bolted into the industrial tile floor, were separated from the ICU by a heavy set of automatic doors.
“Chloe! Over here!” Anna was sitting in the first row of chairs, Juliet by her side. They both looked tired, their faces pale and drawn. Chloe hurried toward them.
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