214 Palmer Street(14)
During her stay she’d intended to make herself at home, but she wasn’t going to be foolish about it. The night before she’d slept on the couch and going forward she would continue to do so. Sleeping in another couple’s bed was too intimate. Besides, being in the living room made her feel less vulnerable. If someone came into the house while she slept, the lower level had three exits, while the upstairs only had one. She kept her backpack nearby so she could grab it quickly if need be. Ever since her injury she’d assessed every situation with safety in mind and always had an exit strategy.
Her whole life had become an exit strategy.
NINE
When Kirk came home from work that night to find Sarah gone and a note on the counter, he was dumbfounded. He stood in the kitchen, clutching the lined paper, and read it several times trying to make sense of the words.
Dear Kirk, I’ve decided I need some time to myself, just a little break from my usual routine, so I’ve taken a short vacation—just for a few days. I’ll be in touch. Love, Sarah.
At first he thought it might be a joke and he’d find her upstairs with a surprise. He even called out, “Sarah? I’m home!” as he climbed the stairs. He imagined finding her standing in the bedroom with a smile on her face, holding an early birthday present, or better yet, posed seductively on the bed, ready to give him the gift of herself. Since her injury, their sex life had dwindled down to almost nothing, but he’d been patient, knowing that she’d come around once she felt physically better.
The bedroom was empty. She’d made the bed and perfectly arranged the pillows. Everything was in place. She just wasn’t there.
After searching the house, he began to think it through, methodically checking the closets, her jewelry box, and their luggage. Her bathrobe still hung on the hook in the walk-in closet and from what he could tell, her entire wardrobe was there, looking the same as when he’d left the house that morning. Her purse was gone, but none of the luggage had been taken.
In the bathroom, nothing was amiss. Sarah hadn’t taken any of their travel-sized toiletries. The drawer she used for cosmetics was perfectly organized and nothing appeared missing. This wasn’t an exact indicator, though, because he knew she kept make-up basics in her everyday purse.
He went online and checked their bank account for debit card transactions and there was nothing new since she’d gone grocery shopping the day before. Sarah didn’t use a credit card, so this would be her only source of money. All of the cars were parked in the garage, undisturbed. Kirk ran his fingers over his scalp, trying to make sense of this. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a disagreement. Why would she leave him? What exactly did she need a break from?
Making it even more puzzling was her phone. When Kirk called it went straight to voicemail. Next he tracked it, only to find it was in the top drawer of her nightstand, underneath a pair of striped fuzzy socks. He held the phone loosely in his palm, wondering why she’d leave it behind. It didn’t make any sense. He thought of all the problems she’d had over the last year—the times she’d forgotten a word or worse yet, substituted the wrong one; the occasions when she’d lost her house keys, or mixed up dates for things like doctors’ appointments—and he got a cold chill up his spine. Something was seriously wrong here. She would never randomly take a little vacation, not so suddenly and especially without him.
Kirk thought back to the last few days, but couldn’t come up with anything out of the ordinary happening between then and now. He’d gone to work, and come home to dinner and they’d talked about their respective days. Granted, Sarah’s days at home weren’t all that thrilling but he took an interest, like a good husband should. They had a solid marriage. Other guys complained about their wives being mentally absent, eyes on their phones, immersed in social media and texting, but Sarah was never online when he was home and only seemed to take a cursory interest in keeping up with friends and former co-workers. She used one of his old laptops, but he hadn’t seen it around in a while. He went through the house, opening drawers and cabinets, looking for the laptop, but not finding it anywhere. She left her phone, but took the laptop? His sense of foreboding deepened.
He went back downstairs and paced, frantic with worry. Sarah was not the type to do things impulsively. Had she left of her own free will?
Worry gnawed at him, a claw at his throat. Why would she leave? He had a bad feeling.
When he calmed down enough to talk to someone, he settled onto the couch and called the one person who always had his back. His mother. Per usual, she answered after one ring. “Kirk!” Always so happy to hear from him. It was a shame to bring her down with his troubles, but that’s what mothers were for.
“Mom, something is seriously wrong.” He glanced around the living room, the blinds in each window up one third of the way, just the way Sarah kept them. From outward appearances all was perfect in his world, but inside he felt hollow.
“Oh no, Kirk. What happened?”
He poured his heart out, reading the note aloud and telling her what he’d discovered so far. “I just don’t understand. This is not like her at all.”
“Let’s think this through,” his mother said, her voice calm. “The note was definitely in her handwriting?”
He glanced down at the paper in his hand. “Yes, absolutely.”