Page 125 of Stay for Me
Chapter Thirty-Five
Brenna
The kids are being really great considering their director isn’t here. We have about an hour before curtain is up—or is it curtain call? I don’t know nor do I give a damn at this point. I slept like shit last night, well, that’s a lie. In order to sleep like shit I would have had to actually sleep, which I did not.
All day, I kept waiting and waiting and waiting for him to call, but I only got a text, and I’m still not sure what any of it means. The subsequent texts were no help either. I haven’t heard from him since, and I have no idea if he’s on a plane or not.
“All right, guys, I’m winging it here, but I think we’re supposed to have the first set up.”
The stage director, a junior in high school, smiles and waves. “We’ve got it handled, Mrs. A!”
“Glad someone does,” I say back.
The kids are all milling around, rehearsing lines, and getting their makeup and hair done. The local beauty shop offered their services after Jacob asked them to give back to the kids.
I swear he could sell a penguin snow.
I sit in the seat and look up at the stage, feeling proud of myself for being able to step in for Jacob and sad that he’s not here with me.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I look up, hoping it’s Jacob, only to see it’s one of the moms. “Are you okay?”
Did they seriously hear about the fight we had already? “I am.”
“I just figured that you’d be a wreck right now.”
“I’m . . . fine. I’m just focusing on making sure the play goes well.”
She nods quickly. “Right. It’s good to keep your focus on that. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
I blink a few times, wondering why she’s offering me this bit of advice when we’ve never spoken before. “Thanks.” I get to my feet and start to move when Melanie comes rushing down the aisle.
“Mom! Mom!”
“What’s wrong?”
Her hands are shaking and there are tears in her eyes. “Look!”
She shoves the phone into my hands, and I look at the headline: “Breaking News: Jacob Arrowood Plane Crash, Survivors Unknown.”
Everything inside me revolts. My vision tunnels until even the screen is a blur, my throat goes dry, and my entire body starts to tremble.
No, no, no. This has to be fake. The press is wrong. Jacob can’t be in a plane crash.
“Mom?” Melanie’s voice breaks as tears run down her face. “There are more saying they can’t find the plane.”
I grab my phone and call his number.
It rings.
And rings.
Each time I hear that noise I want to scream:answer.
But he doesn’t.
His voice mail picks up. “Jacob. Jacob it’s me. Please . . . I need to know you’re okay. Please.”
“Mom.”
