Page 84 of Everything We Give

She turns to leave and I stop her with her name. “Thank you for coming.”

We share a sad smile and she leaves the room.

Locating the bags, I pluck out a few, using one as a makeshift glove. The animal doesn’t go neatly into the trash bag and I have to stop every minute or so to leave the room and gulp fresh air.

This is not how I expected to spend the day. Al sent an e-mail this morning, confirming the new deadline Reese told me about. He wants my photos by tomorrow morning. I’ve narrowed ten thousand down by three. Seven thousand more to go and I’m beyond exhausted, thanks to jet lag and the lack of sleep. Lacy better get here soon.

I dump the remains in the outside trash and mop the floor.

Aimee returns and glances around the small room. “How did the possum get in here?”

“I’m not sure.” I inspect the walls, looking behind the washer and dryer, and find a hole. “Back here.” I show Aimee. “He must have chewed his way through and couldn’t figure how to get back out.”

“Poor guy.”

I put away the cleaning supplies and wash my hands.

“I tossed the newspapers and swept the porch,” Aimee says.

I close the supply-closet door. “Any word on Lacy?”

She shakes her head. “I just got the answering machine at her house. What now?”

I glance at my watch. “I guess we wait.”

Raking both hands through my hair, I walk down the hallway and out the front door. The screen door slams behind me, banging against the frame before it settles. Planting hands on hips, I stare down the empty drive. A random car passes on the road every couple of minutes, but none slow and turn down the drive.

I might as well make use of the time and fire up my laptop. There are images to edit and an essay to write. I turn back to the house.

“Hello, Ian.”

I jump. “Shit.”

Sitting on the old wicker chair is Lacy Saunders. I blow out a long stream of air. She scared the bejesus out of me. Where did she come from and how did she get here?

She smiles and her lavender eyes sparkle. “Lovely day for a chat, isn’t it?”

CHAPTER 24

IAN, AGE THIRTEEN

Ian woke up in the station wagon’s front passenger seat groggy, disoriented, and with drool smearing his right cheek. The car coasted along the highway under a midnight-blue sky. Yellowish-orange road reflectors winked under the headlamp beams. He could barely make out landmarks beyond the swatch of triangular light, and what he did see was unfamiliar.

Ian sat upright, adjusting the grip of the seatbelt across his lap. He wiped off the saliva from the side of his face with the back of his hand, and in his mind, played back the day’s events. He’d been at an invitational track meet in Boise. His dad hadn’t made it. Shocking, Ian knew, but this time Stu had a legitimate excuse. His flight had been delayed, so his mom picked him up after school and they drove straight to the meet.

Everything was going fine. He medaled in the 400 m and 1600 m. His mom seemed happier than her usual self, almost normal as she cheered him on from the sidelines. Afterward, she treated him to a celebratory dinner before heading home.

But they didn’t seem to be headed in that direction now.

It had been dusk when they returned to the car, his belly full and quads aching from the record-setting race he’d accomplished. They should have been home by ten. The digital numbers on the dashboard clock glowed an aquamarine 11:56.

A cold sweat broke out across Ian’s body, adding another layer to the crust that covered him from the meet. He didn’t have to wonder who was driving the car. The music blaring through the speakers gave her away. His mom didn’t listen to the Eagles. It must have woken him up, and as the lead singer crooned, Ian feared this night would be one of those crazy nights, like the one last year when Jackie met the biker at the motel and Sarah had to drive them home, shaken and disturbed under a cloak of starry-skied darkness.

Ian covered a yawn. He’d stayed up late studying for a test, then spent the late afternoon at the meet. Take his exhaustion from both, top it off with a full belly and the gentle vibration of the station wagon’s tires on the road, and Ian had conked out before they exited Boise’s city limits. He’d missed when his mom had phased out. He’d missed his opportunity to have Jackie drop him off at home.

He watched the road, waiting for a signpost to appear. He wanted to know where they were and the direction they were driving. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. A skinny post flashed by on the roadside. Ian swiveled in his seat, following the sign until it faded in the night.93 SOUTH. They’d been driving for almost two hours. They had to be in Nevada by now.

He settled back into his seat. “Where are we going?”

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