Page 61 of The Making of Mila and Blake
Teddy laughs. “I’ll take care of them too.”
We don’t hug, but we exchange a smile. I kiss Fredo’s nose and leave the stables, wave once more to Savannah as I pass the pasture, and then set my sights on the house. Blake should be here any minute, so I plop myself in the rocking chair on the porch for the last time while I wait.
And wait. And wait. . .
The blue of the sky fades to dusk and the minutes tick by. The sun is gone, a layer of haze blanketing the atmosphere. I check my phone a little too obsessively and once Blake is officially fifteen minutes late, I call him. It rings and rings before going to voicemail, but I hang up before leaving a message. I text him. Several times.
My heart skips a beat when I hear the electric whizz of the gate opening and I sit up in anticipation, but my shoulders sink when Dad’s rental sedan drives up to the house. My parents headed downtown to relax over coffee before the flight, and I turned down the offer to join them. I thought it’d be better if they spent time alone, just the two of them. Judging by the smiles on their faces when they step out of the car, I made the right decision.
Dad climbs the porch steps and takes hold of my suitcase. “Good, you’re packed. I’ll get these loaded up.” He carries my suitcase to the car, then Mom’s, then his. When he slams the trunk shut, my heart beats that little bit faster. Our departure is imminent.
“Have you said goodbye to your friends yet?” Mom asks, leaning against the porch railing. Concern flickers across her relaxed features when she spots my flustered expression. “What, Mila?”
“Blake was supposed to be here at six.” I check my phone again. It’s twenty minutes after. “And he’s not answering my calls. Healwaysanswers. Like, on the first ring.”
Mom leans over me, kisses the top of my hair. “I’m sure he’ll be here. Maybe he’s just running late and his phone is dead. It happens.”
“What happens?” Dad chimes in as he joins us.
“She’s waiting for Blake to show up to say goodbye,” Mom tells him, casting me a pitying smile. She believes I’m overthinking his lateness.
“Well, I hope he hurries up, because we’re leaving in thirty,” Dad says, and he and Mom head inside.
I start to pace now, even though my broken ankle doesn’t exactly allow for it. My eyes remain fixated on the gate, listening hard for the sound of a car engine approaching in the distance, but the ranch is silent. The construction crews are finished for the night.
I call Blake again and again, and when each one goes straight to voicemail, I grow increasingly agitated. Pacing this porch makes me feel useless, so I decide to take matters into my own hands. If he can’t come to me, I’ll go to him.
I barge into the house, startling Sheri and my parents in the kitchen, and swipe the keys to Sheri’s van off the counter. “I’ll be back by seven,” I announce with steely determination and with a tone that defies anyone to try and stop me.
“Hey,” Dad snaps, grasping my elbow as I pass him. He points at my foot. “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t drive.”
I yank my arm from Dad’s grip. “Okay, I know, but I haveto find Blake. I can’t just leave without saying goodbye when I have no idea when I’ll be back. And after last time. . . We promised we’d say goodbye, soplease,let me go.”
Dad uncurls my clenched fist, prying the van keys out of my hand. “You can’t drive,” he repeats, “so I’lldrive. We’ll take the rental.”
I blink at him with wide, stunned eyes. He tosses Sheri her keys, promises Mom we’ll be back in thirty minutes, and then ushers me out of the house and into the sedan. I’m relieved that Dad understands just how much Blake means to me.
“Where to first?” he asks, and I request the Avery home.
We pull on our seatbelts and turn out of the Harding Estate, onto the dusky country road. We are working under time constraints and Dad isn’t wasting a single second; he floors the gas. As he drives, I continue calling Blake but to no avail. We cross through downtown Fairview and turn south into Blake’s neighborhood. Dad doesn’t need directions; he knows exactly where LeAnne and Blake live.
I hunch forward. The Avery house with its patriotic flags waving softly in the breeze draws close, but my chest tightens with disappointment at the sight of the empty drive. Blake’s truck isn’t there; neither is LeAnne’s Tesla. Dad parks regardless and he waits in the car as I rush to the door, banging my knuckles hard against the oak. No one arrives to answer except Bailey. I see his golden outline through the frosted glass side panel. He barks and barks.
I bend down and press my hands to the glass. “Where is he, Bailey?” I ask. “Where’s Blake?”
But of course Bailey can’t tell me. I drag myself back to the car and slam the door extra hard behind me, my mind racing. There is no way Blake wouldn’t show up to say goodbye by choice, not after everything. We are stronger than ever. He must be in trouble.
“Let’s try Jason’s place,” I tell Dad, and we head off again.
We remember Jason’s address from that day Dad and I drove him home from his shift on the ranch after it became clear he’d been drinking. It’s not far from here, just on the opposite side of downtown. The dusky haze of sunset shifts to a clear, pale blue and the street is shadowed beneath a thick canopy of trees overhead. We stop outside Jason’s bungalow. My heart drops into my stomach. Blake’s truck isn’t here, either.
Groaning, I head up to the front stoop and ring the doorbell, but I already know it’s pointless. There’s no one here, not even Jason. I slink back to the car in defeat and throw my body back against the seat, twisting my hands into my hair. Where the hell is he?
“I think we should head back to the ranch, Mila,” Dad says gently. “We really need to set off for the airport.”
“No!” I drop my hands and ball them into fists in my lap instead, fighting through the brain fog as I consider where to search next, but I have no ideawhere Blake could possibly be. “I can’t leave until I find him.”
“Okay, okay. Let me call LeAnne,” Dad offers. He searches her name in his extensive contacts list and calls her number. “Huh,” he says as he lowers his phone from his ear after a minute. “She’s not answering either.”
