Page 58 of Dying to Meet You

“This reminds me of that venti double-blasted-dingleberry-brown-star latte shit we were given at that diner outside Pittsburgh.” He’s back to his old form, being sarcastic and cracking jokes, but I’m not in the mood. We could’ve lost him.

“This is serious, Blaine. We have to talk about it.”

He puffs out a breath before rubbing his eyes. “Do we, though?”

Chris sits down at the end of the table. “Yeah, buddy. Yeah, we do. I don’t ever want to find you that way again.”

He hangs his head, and in a saddened voice, says, “I get it…I fucked up. I gave in, because I just can’t take this feeling…this pain.” He looks up at me, eyes glistening with tears. “What if he never comes home again?”

What if. It’s the thought I won’t let myself have. God help me, that’s not a reality I want to ponder.

Chris speaks up. “You need some self-reflection, man. Be honest with yourself. Checking out when there is a crisis is just an excuse.”

As Kim watches over the kids in the family room, we discuss the next meeting he can make and reconnecting with his therapist. There is talk about his sobriety while carefully skirting the subject of loss. Blaine gets agitated after twenty minutes of reiterating his need to talk to someone. “For the fuckteenth time…” he starts.

I hear the doorbell, excusing myself to find Becca standing on our wraparound porch with a pan of food. The bruise around her eye is a mottled purple, reminding me she needs a friend to lean on, too. “You haven’t called, so I thought I’d-” she holds up the aluminum pan “bring something by and check in.”

Letting her in, I nod at the county deputy sitting on the road by our house. “Come on in.” She follows me through the family room greeting Kim and the kids then into the kitchen where Blaine is telling Chris he’s not about to do something so stupid again.

“...it’s probably located in the ‘fuck this’ cluster of neurons.” Not bothering to hide his irritation at seeing Becca here, he rolls his eyes.

“How are you?” I ask, but I’m not invested in her answer. I’m ashamed of myself for feeling like it’s an obligation to ask, but the timing is not the best. “Has your ex stayed away?” Instead of listening to her response I try to catch the conversation between Chris and Blaine while listening to Waverly ask if she can go check on the animals.

I ask Waverly to wait, turning back to Becca. “It’s a little hectic right now. Sorry. Give me a minute?”

Zinnea has wandered to the doorway next to Waverly. Since Wes went missing, the girls seem to have shelved their problems, but there is still hesitation and awkwardness between them.

“Can I go with her?” Zinnea asks.

Blaine replies, “Wait until one of us goes with you, please.”

It doesn’t matter if there is a deputy posted on the road, or cameras in the yard; Wes was snatched away in broad daylight, security cameras all over, and FBI agents patrolling the property. We can’t trust they’ll be safe alone outside. They both look crestfallen as they mumble, “Okay.”

“I could go with them? I’d love to see your animals,” Becca offers. “Really. I was even going to ask if I could see the horses.”

Looking into the family room, Kim has her hands full with Warner throwing blocks that Zach hands him at the cat and Zeb having a bottle. I want to finish my conversation with Blaine, and Chris has a fear of all big four-legged animals. I relent, because it’s easy at the moment. Waverly grabs her sketchbook off the table to take with her as she leads Zinnea and Becca out the back door.

“Don’t go in the pen or the woods,” Blaine calls from the table.

I check my cell phone, waiting for Keir to text. Eden insisted on searching for Wes at the wellness center, so he sent a group chat to Blaine and me that he would check in every couple of hours. It’s getting close to the third check-in time.

Chris reclines back in the chair. “No word?”

Making sure I’m paying attention to the time, I set an alarm on my phone for fifteen minutes while Blaine tells us where the pills came from and about his battle to throw them away.

When the alarm goes off, I check, seeing no text. I try calling his phone, but it goes to voicemail. I’ll try again in a few minutes. I reset the alarm for another five. “I need some fresh air, so I’m gonna find the girls.” Besides, I should make an effort to see if Becca is doing alright.

No voices carry from the animal enclosure, and I don’t see the girls or Becca when I walk down the porch steps. Alarm doesn’t hit me until I see Waverly’s sketchbook open on the ground, like it was dropped. Calling their names, I pick up the pace. Besides a disinterested-looking donkey and our recovering goat, there are no animals in the pen close to the house. The horses can be seen near the tree line, munching on grass.

I circle the house to see the deputy from earlier still seated inside his squad. When I look back towards the house I don’t see Becca’s vehicle.

Maybe she parked farther down our driveway, and I didn’t see it when I initially exited the house. The panic that sets in when I don’t find it overwhelms me.

I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing…

The deputy steps from his squad when he catches me waving an arm at him while running his way. “Did…did you see anyone leave with the girls and the lady that was visiting?”

Did the person take Becca’s vehicle? Oh no, was it her ex? My thoughts are scrambling a million miles an hour.

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