When She Flew (30 page)

“And? What do you want me to grab?”

She tried to think. Nina’s baby book? Photo albums? No. This wasn’t a hurricane or a tsunami; it only felt like one.

“The back door goes into the kitchen. You can get a grocery bag from next to the fridge. Then go into the living room and turn left down the hall. My room’s the last one. In the dresser, second drawer on the right, just grab a few T-shirts. I don’t care which.” She couldn’t ask him for underwear, as much as she wanted to. “Then in the bottom drawer on that side there are two pairs of jeans. Grab the light-colored ones.” The dark jeans had been purchased in an optimistic moment when she’d been going to the gym for two weeks.

“T-shirts, jeans. Check. What else?”

“I would love my face cream out of the bathroom. It’s in the medicine cabinet.”

“I’m a guy. You’re gonna have to give me more to go on than that. Does it say ‘face cream’ in big bold letters or something?”

“Hope in a Jar. It’s called Hope in a Jar.” This was more than embarrassing. This was revealing her deepest insecurities to a complete stranger.

“Hope in a Jar. Check.” He struggled not to smile.

She shook her head. “Back out in the living room, on the bookshelf, there’s a photo of my daughter and grandson. Actually, there’s a ton of photos of them, but I want the one in the small blue frame that says ‘I Love Grandma’ on the bottom. That’s it. That’ll do for now.”

He nodded and started to get out of the car. Larry lifted on his haunches to follow, but Chris turned and said, “Hold. Protect the lady. Don’t let the bad guys near her.” He winked at Jess and closed the door.

Larry resettled and put his paw on her leg. She took it in her hand and watched Chris walk away. She scanned for reporters, for nosy neighbors, for boogeymen until he reappeared.

He strode toward the car carrying a paper bag more filled than she’d expected, grinning like he’d slain a dragon or won the lottery.

“Here you go,” he said as he slid behind the wheel.

She took the bag and tucked it away at her feet without looking inside, embarrassed that he’d been through her personal things. But one thing was clear: he wasn’t a jerk. He probably wasn’t even a player. Maybe he just went to the dentist a lot and stocked up on the freebie toothbrushes.

Jess had a new idea.

Larry sat tall and serene between them; she had to lean around him to see Chris. “How would you feel about letting me borrow the truck to drive out into wine country?”

He squinted. “Isn’t it a little early in the day to be drinking?”

“I need to go see Ray and Lindy.” She worried that she shouldn’t have revealed their general whereabouts, but she felt compelled to go. If she drove out there, she could tell Ray in person about the
Good Morning America
offer in case he wanted to take it, which she doubted, and about Faith’s whiff of blood money. She was pretty sure he and Lindy were safe at the farm, but he should know what was happening outside of the news reports. He should be able to make decisions based on all of the facts. And, Jess had to admit, she wanted to see Lindy one more time, to make sure she was okay.

Chris turned the key in the ignition. “I’ll take you,” he said.

“Uh-uh.” Jess shook her head. “You’re already too involved.”

He put the truck in first gear. “We could argue for the next ten minutes, or you could just tell me now how to get there.”

He meant it; Jess shook her head again, but gave him directions.

As they drove, she listened to the new voice messages she’d accumulated. She’d gotten so used to her phone vibrating that she barely noticed it anymore.

As she listened, she lowered her window a few inches to let in air. Larry stood and stepped into her lap, pushing his nose out into the wind rushing by.

“Down,” Chris said, trying to pull him back, but Jess waved him off.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Look how happy it makes him.”

Chris shook his head. “All that training down the tubes,” he said, but Jess had a feeling he was thinking the same thing: look how happy it makes her.

In addition to repeat calls from the local stations, she had three new calls from the
Good Morning America
person, one from the
Today
show, two from someone with Anderson Cooper’s show, and several from FOX. Now Ray had even more options. Personally, she wouldn’t be responding to the requests she was receiving for interviews. She’d said everything that needed to be said.

She wondered if Ray had watched any news coverage, if he was freaking out. If he and Lindy could just keep their heads down long enough, eventually it would all go away. That was what she’d tell him. She hoped he’d believe her and not make any decisions just yet.

In addition to media calls, she’d received nice messages from Maddy and one of the detectives who she’d always assumed didn’t like her, but here he was telling her to stick to her guns on this one. Her mother had called again and then, oddly, Rick. They never spoke about anything unless it was related to Nina or Mateo, and that was rare now that Nina was on her own.

“Um, hi,” his voice said on the message. All these years apart and they still didn’t need to identify themselves to each other on the phone. After a long pause, he said, “I don’t know what’s going on exactly with you and these, these forest people, but, um, I hope you’re doing okay. I mean, I’m sure you are. You’re one tough lady.”

Jess couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her ex, the man who’d stolen her daughter away, was making nice.

“So the deal is,” he continued, and Jess rolled her eyes. Of course. There was a deal. “The deal is, I’m moving to Dallas with, with my, uh, my fiancée. I figure Nina’s pretty much on her own now; she doesn’t need me anymore. Never did, really.” He laughed in an unfunny way, and Jess realized that maybe he hadn’t had it so easy with their daughter, either. “So, uh, okay. Just wanted you to know. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Loser,” Jess said. Nina would hate that he’d be living so far away, and what about Teo? Rick was the only father figure in his life.

“Media?” Chris asked.

She shook her head. “No, my ex-husband. He’s moving to Dallas with his fiancée. I didn’t even know he was dating.”

“How long have you two been split up?”

She blushed. “Ten years.”

“Well, then,” Chris said, rubbing his chin, “I’d say it was time.”

She started to throw a punch at his shoulder, but a flurry of growling fur blocked her, a snarling mouthful of teeth grazed her wrist.

“Larry, off! Off!” Chris pushed the dog’s muzzle away from Jess’s arm, and Larry backed his hindquarters down to the floor beside Jess’s feet. He whined, then swung his head toward Jess, eyes like melted Hershey’s.

“Jeez, sorry about that. He’s trained to protect me.”

“No, god, of course. I just wasn’t thinking.” Jess clasped her shaking hands between her legs.

“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. He just surprised me,” she said.

Larry looked up at her as if begging for an apology.

Men,
Jess thought, shaking her head, the old push me-pull you of relationships evident even in this simple canine friendship. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, yeah. No problem. Soon as I say ‘off,’ he’s over it.”

She gave the dog a good scratch and he licked her hand, then climbed back up on the seat to look out the windshield, a sentry, a fierce but fair protector. Jess liked him better all the time.

Chris stopped for gas soon after they got off the highway. He got out of the truck and walked toward the mini-mart, and she quickly pawed through the paper bag he’d brought her, finding three T-shirts and the pair of jeans she requested, along with a random handful of underwear. At least she hoped that it was random, that he hadn’t stood there deciding which ones to choose. The heat crept back into her face. He’d remembered her face cream and added her deodorant, toothbrush, and a small vial of perfume she never wore. At the very bottom, another T-shirt wrapped around the photo she’d asked for. Jess rearranged everything neatly and put the bag back on the floor.

When Chris opened the door and slid back into the driver’s seat, she said, “Did I mention how much I appreciate all you’re doing for me?”

“Several times,” he said. “I think you’re good now.”

“Thank god,” she said, and he started the truck.

They both heard the helicopter at the same time, and craned their necks to look up at it through the windshield.

“What is it?” Jess asked. “It’s not military. Not flight-for-life. Shit.”

“It’s not a news copter,” Chris said. “Let’s wait and see what it does.” He shut off the engine.

It was true. There were no logos emblazoned on its sides, no long camera arm extending from it. It proceeded slowly from east to west, roughly the direction they’d been traveling in. They watched until it was out of sight.

“Must be a private owner. Or maybe it’s agricultural, tourism—who knows?” Chris started the truck again.

“Crop dusting?” Jess had a bad feeling. “The aerial winery tour? Kinda tough to take advantage of free wine tastings from up there.”

“It’s out of here now, anyway,” Chris said. “Right? You okay to keep going?”

She looked out the window again, then got out of the truck and stood on the hot asphalt, listening, turning to look in every direction, hand shielding her eyes. The skies were clear except for a commercial jet thirty thousand feet overhead, leaving a slim white stripe across the sea of crystal blue.

She got back in. “God, I hate being paranoid,” she said. “Yeah, let’s go.”

31

W
hen Pater told me to work on my algebra problems, I hoped it meant he was all right again. He knows I would rather write all day or read than do math, even though I’m good at it. He says I’ll be doing calculus before you know it, and then I will have surpassed his own math skills. I will have to learn the rest from books, but that’s fine. I learned geography from books and even taught Pater about it some, and when I wanted to know about what was wrong with my mother, I figured that out, too, even though I didn’t share those details with him. He’d never mentioned the drugs to me, so I never brought it up either. Maybe he didn’t know.

I finished my equations but he said he would check them later. He always checked my schoolwork right away, but things were changing so fast I didn’t know what to expect anymore.

I asked, “May I please go outside now? I’ve been inside practically all day.”

He turned to the window. I thought he might not let me, but then he relented. “Stay close,” he said. “And keep out of their way.”

I almost ran to the door, and he called after me, “And don’t bring in any more feathers. They’re dirty.”

I closed the door without answering. He’d never cared how many feathers I had before, or how messy they were. I wondered if maybe I could find my own way back to our camp in the forest, without him, and then realized what a horrible thought that was. What would he do without me? He wasn’t his right self, and I was the only one who knew how to be with him when he was this way. And besides, he’d saved me when I needed saving. How could I be so ungrateful?

Outside it was like a dream. The air was hazy and wavered in the heat rising from the earth. It had been too warm and still in the apartment, but the sun outside scorched the top of my head and my shoulders. Sweat trickled down my ribs, leaving a trail of wet dots on either side of my shirt. My jeans felt heavy and thick, like canvas.

The white dog stood from her nap beneath the porch of the big house and loped toward me. I don’t much like dogs, especially after having that mean-looking one almost attack Pater and me, but this one was friendly. She came right up and stopped and looked at me, a question in her eyes.

What shall we do?
she seemed to be saying. She hopped up, then bent down on her front legs, waggling her bottom in the air, then suddenly turned and ran, and just like when I saw my heron, I followed. She kept looking back at me, slowing a little, then bolting ahead. I chased after her, laughing.

We were nearly at the top of the pasture, near the horses, when I heard something coming from far away, something big and loud like a train. The noise was overhead, behind the tall pines across the road. As it got louder and louder, I started to run back toward the house. The white dog ran with me, barking at the sky.

“Lindy!” Pater called from the door of the barn, waving his arm frantically. “Get over here! Hurry!”

I’d just made it to the barn and Pater had pulled me inside when a huge metal insect appeared from behind the trees, chopping the air with steel blades, my chest and head vibrating with its roar, the chill of its shadow passing directly over us and continuing on, past the woods at the back of the property, and then farther and farther away, the terrible sound dying out like an echo.