Life and Other Inconveniences(120)

She wasn’t there.

His panic rose with each stride, and he could hear his voice changing, getting louder, more urgent, unrecognizable.

Then he saw the light blinking by the living room door. Next to the door was an overturned bowl, a big wooden salad bowl that had been a wedding gift. Tess liked to pretend to make soup in it, and it was sturdy enough that she wouldn’t break it.

If she stood on it, she’d be tall enough to reach the alarm, which was a four-digit code.

She was an evil genius. He knew that better than anyone.

He bolted onto the porch. “Tess!” he yelled. Shit, the road was right there, and it was summer, and cars went past way too fast. “Tess, answer Daddy!”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called 911. “My three-year-old daughter left our house,” he said, running down the street. “I can’t find her.” He managed to give his address. Saw Jim Davies in the front yard. “Have you seen Tess?” he yelled.

Jim shook his head and came running down. “Need help?

“Yes. I don’t know where she is. It’s been maybe ten minutes.”

“Anyplace you think she’d head?” Jim asked. “A friend’s house?”

“No. Nothing I can think of.”

“Go around the block. I’ll go in this way,” he said. “Tess! Hey, Tess, honey, want a cookie?”

Around the block. That was smart. Where the hell were the police? Why was it taking so long?

What if she drowned? Could she have gotten down to the water that fast? What was he saying? She was a fucking cheetah when it came to getting into trouble.

The neighborhood looked strange and full of danger. The bushes, the trees, the houses . . . what if his daughter was inside one of them, being molested or murdered? Or both? Jesus Christ, why did he ever have a child? “Tess!” he called, his voice breaking.

A car passed, and he waved it down. “Be careful!” he barked. “There’s a missing toddler. Look out for her.”

“Sure thing,” the lady said.

God. What if she’d been taken? Like Sheppard London, like the daughter in the Liam Neeson movies, like the thousands of kids who went missing every year and who were never found?

What if, after all he’d been through, his baby was dead right this minute?

He was running, trying to see everything, under every rhododendron, behind every hedge, every car. His thoughts skittered and slid with panic. “Tess, please, honey,” he said, and he realized he was crying.

Bebe Leiderman was standing on her porch. “Have you seen Tess?” he asked.

“Your little girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, no. Want help?”

“Yes.” He kept running, his heart pumping too hard. God wouldn’t be this cruel, would he?

He turned again, back onto his own street, past the Quinns’ place, checking their yard. Past the Oliverases, who were having some kind of family celebration, as they did about four times a month.

“Have you seen Tess?” he yelled. “She ran out of the house.”

They came down their walk immediately, Joe, his wife, the three adult daughters, asking him questions, but he couldn’t hear anymore; there was ringing in his ears, the roar of blood, his own breath.

Please. Please.

There was his own yard, fenced in so it would be safe; joke was on him—

And there she was, sitting on the front steps, clutching Luigi in her arms, the cat looking beleaguered and limp.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said. “I get out.”

“Jesus Christ, Tess!” he yelled. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again! Do you hear me?” And then he was holding her, probably too hard, sobbing into her shoulder, bending over because the terror bowed him in half, the noises barking out of him.

Someone was patting his back . . . Joe Oliveras. “Just twenty years off your life, right? Oh, the times I thought my girls would kill me.”

“Parenting is not for sissies,” came Bebe’s voice. A couple of people laughed, because apparently there was a small crowd here with him, because they wanted to help, which was nice, but he couldn’t think now. Nothing mattered except that his daughter was safe, alive, and God, he loved her so much, he’d die for her, he’d die without her because the little terror was everything to him. Everything.

The sobs were still wrenching out of him, and he couldn’t seem to let go of her.

She was safe. She was safe. She was here, and she was safe. She was alive.

“You squish me, Daddy.”

He finally pulled back a little, and she looked at him, frowning. “No crying, Daddy.”

“Tess, you can’t run away like that.” His voice was ragged and hoarse. “What would I do without you?”

She patted his face with her grubby little hands. “No crying, Daddy,” she repeated. “You okay now.”





CHAPTER 36


    Riley


We’re moving to Connecticut permanently. I would be lying if I said that made me anything but incredibly happy. I can see my brothers whenever I want, and my dad. And Jamilah and Hope, too.

Mom enrolled me in the public school, and I don’t even care that I’ll be the new kid my last year. I mean, yeah, walking into school without knowing anyone will be hard, but better that than going back and trying to scrape together some friends since Mikayla, Jenna and Annabeth ditched me.