Page 63 of Never Quiet

Chapter Fourteen

Mid-June 2016

Amanda hadn’t walked the stage to get her diploma. She wouldn’t graduate college. There were no photos in her phone of fellow students. She’d never had a boyfriend.

Other than her family and their inner circle of almost-family friends, Amanda realized she’d been isolated for a long time.

That was why, when she requested a big going away party in her hometown, she expected it to consist of older people – friends of her parents, her grandparents.

Standing at the window in her room, she watched as cars started pulling down the driveway, guided into the cut field to park. Every vehicle had a balloon magnet on the door. It was a requirement, included in every invitation.

So they knew where to have them park, the instructions said.

The real reason was to quickly identify those people invited. It wasn’t a perfect system but Zoe, Caroline, and Bill were on hand to cheerfully observe each approaching guest to confirm that the man or woman was personally known to one of them.

Entire families arrived that included younger children. Some went to school with Heather. Others, Amanda realized with a smile, were kids she’d babysat or read to at the library.

Young people – she went to school or had band with – came in large groups. Many of them recognized Zoe from their school trips to the library.

There was a tap on her door and she looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Dad.”

He approached and stood beside her to watch the activity below. “When I found out about you, my company became a lot more important. I wanted to raise you here, to give you roots, to make sure you had plenty of room to grow.”

“You did that. You gave me a wonderful life. The land, the house, the town.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “When I sat down to make my piece of the guest list, I was blown away. Thinking about how many people I knew, who knew you, who’d watched you grow up. I figured I’d give them a list of twenty names and it ended up being almost two hundred. I could have kept going.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. A lot of those people, they had kids. Some your age that you ended up in school with and some a lot younger that you babysat or tutored or helped with lemonade stands.”

He gave her a squeeze. “Over the years, you’ve done door-to-door fundraisers, sold cookies, and participated in car washes. There were church people and stoners and blue collar guys and our first female district attorney. You played trumpet during parades, football games, inaugurations, holidays, grand openings, and graduations. You talked to people you passed on the street and always remembered names. If they told you about their kids, you remembered their names, too.”

Turning to her, he leaned against the window sill and crossed his arms. “I know the last few years didn’t go as you planned. I know you’re about to embark on a journey that will feel lonely sometimes, will feel too exposed other times, and none of it is what you would have chosen when you were twelve and ready to help me move Zoe into our house the first time she saw it.”

She smiled, remembering. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Loving you, keeping you safe, that’s my job. Sometimes, I think about Jessica and that if I’d never met her, none of this would be happening to you…and then I remember I wouldn’t have you if I hadn’t met her. It spins my head around and around. I feel a lot of guilt for you, for Zoe, and I don’t know where it all went so crazy. How it went from us laughing at the diner to hiding you from sex traffickers. I am so fucking sorry, honey.”

She hugged him hard and he crushed her to his chest.

“You did everything right, Dad. Every second. Never doubt that. Even the not perfect stuff held valuable lessons. You’re not responsible for that woman’s choices.” Leaning back, she stared into the face that was her first memory.

“It was just you and me for a long time. The day in, day out. Going to school and work and the store. Bedtimes and cleaning up and dental appointments. It was the two of us and I started to worry about you being in this big house all alone when I grew up. I’m grateful for Mom and Heather. To know they’re going to take care of you and you’re going to take care of them…just like you took care of me all those years.”

He gasped for air and looked at the floor to compose himself. “I’m…going to miss you so damn much, Amanda. Even if you were leaving like you always planned, it would be hard. Feeling like you’re backed into a corner makes it hurt worse.”

Swiping at her own tears, she whispered, “We have the new phones. The new computers. Hayden installed a program that does talk to text on the videos, like closed captioning, for Heather. It will help her learn to read faster. You’ll see me all the time, talk to me all the time, and when you want to see me in person, we’ll show Mom and Heather New York.”

He nodded and stood, gathering her in a big hug. Kissing the top of her head like he always had when she was little, he said, “No one could have asked for a better daughter, Amanda. Thank you for your patience, your understanding, your forgiveness. You’ll always be my little girl, the one I couldn’t wait to meet. I love you, love you, love you.” One more hug and he walked rapidly from the room.

It took her several minutes to compose herself enough to face other people. She walked downstairs to a house literally overflowing with people. They laughed and talked in the first-floor rooms, the front porch, the back porch, the yard beyond.

There was a table in the living room piled high with gifts that shocked her. Walking through the dining room, she smiled at the food covering every inch of the farmer’s table and sideboard.

In the kitchen, there were tubs of iced drinks end to end on the island. The little kitchen table held disposable utensils, cups, plates, and napkins.

Amanda wandered among the guests and stopped to talk to everyone. The story circulating was that she’d gotten a modeling contract in New York and was going to put off college for a couple of years since she was so far ahead.

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