The Vanished, page 5
“Other than the museum? Things not work out?” Small lines creased the outer edges of his eyes as he watched her.
“So it seems. The firm wanted cheap labor to clean out a disgusting closet.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. For all she knew Dr. Montgomery attended a civic organization with one of the partners. The way her luck ran, that would be the case. “Sorry. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s always disappointing when things don’t work the way we planned or dreamed.”
“Exactly. I can’t say it was my dream to return to Kedgewick, but I know it’s right for this season.” Now to figure out what else was right. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. After all, I can live in my parents’ basement the rest of their lives. Who doesn’t dream of that?” She sighed, and then shook her head and chuckled. “Just call me Meg Ryan from You’ve Got Mail.”
Dr. Montgomery looked like he’d draw blood as he bit the corner of his lip to keep from laughing. “A good one.”
“It is. Sorry, I’m kind of ridiculous right now.” She slid her hands in her back jeans pockets. “At least I know God has a plan even if I don’t.”
“Sometimes he even lets us in on it.” He looked distant.
Hmm. There’s a story there. But she wouldn’t push.
Instead, she took a step back. “Give me a couple days to create a plan before I call to hear about the museum’s legal issues … Unless you need a quicker resolution?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s odd, someone suggesting a lawsuit is coming.”
“That can happen. Kind of like testing the waters.”
“Well, it’s testing my sleep.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw, and she noted the purple under his eyes.
“We could meet now if it helps. I can at least listen and make suggestions.” She could always figure out logistics later.
“It’s all right. Another few days shouldn’t matter.” He shook his head. “Time to get back to work. Good to see you, Janae.”
“Thanks.” The word trickled out in a slow blur. Then she glanced at her watch. It was that or watch him walk away. And with all the chaos and unknowns in her life, she did not need to add a crush on the cute PhD exiting the gallery.
Chapter 6
Thursday, October 27
“CARTER, THERE’S BEEN AN ACCIDENT. Your sister didn’t make it.”
Carter jolted up in bed, the old memory lacing his nightmare. The fourteen months since Charlotte’s death hadn’t eased his pain.
It had been three months since he’d had this dream, but he knew from experience he wouldn’t easily return to sleep. Not until he slipped into Andrew’s room, confirmed his nephew slept in the nest of stuffed animals he called his stuffies or cuddle pets.
Whatever he called the menagerie, Andrew surrounded himself with them in a precise order before settling in for the night. The next night they repeated the process. Now nine years old, Andrew didn’t look like the lost eight-year-old who had arrived at Carter’s door after the devastating loss of his mom. The casket had been closed, and Carter had intentionally not seen her before it was. He wanted to remember Charlotte as the vibrant big sister who liked to boss him around, even if she was a bit wild in her youth.
Carter moved down the hallway toward Andrew’s room and paused outside.
Monthly checks arrived from Charlotte’s designated trustee for Andrew’s care, but the money would never replace the boy’s mother. Carter wasn’t sure how Charlotte had been successful enough to create the endowment as a secretary who’d wanted to be an artist, but he was grateful for the financial help. Keeping Andrew in clothes and meeting the other needs of a boy was a chore some months. It helped that Carter’s parents lived only a couple of hours away and spent time each month with Andrew. Carter couldn’t raise the boy alone—not when Andrew struggled to express the depths of his grief, leading to emotional meltdowns. Andrew needed more support than Carter knew how to give.
The light from the hallway spilled in just enough for Carter to reassure himself that all was well. Andrew’s hair spilled over his pillow like raw sienna paint, and his mouth hung open in easy sleep.
Carter eased forward and brushed a bit of the boy’s blond hair back, sending up a quick, silent plea for wisdom for himself and protection for his young charge.
He slipped from the room and headed to the kitchen.
He carefully walked around his small home, which had adequate space for the two of them. Andrew’s room consumed what could have been the office. Next to it was a small bathroom and then the open floor plan of a living area that flowed into the kitchen and dining area. Carter’s workspace, with a docking station and files organized in a single drawer, filled a nook between the small kitchen and dining room—something the home’s designers had probably imagined for writing grocery lists and paying bills. The screened porch provided more living space much of the year but right now wasn’t used.
His gaze traveled to the door to the basement. It looked like the door was cracked, but he knew he’d closed it before he headed to bed.
That’s strange.
Then he noted that the light over his workspace was off. He always left the light on at night in case Andrew got up to wander.
Carter frowned and moved toward the door. He didn’t like the feeling that skittered up his back. Had someone invaded his home? He wanted to turn back and check on Andrew or grab his phone from where it charged next to his bed. But either of those felt like a risk if someone was in the shadows.
Stairs edged from the kitchen down to a finished but largely unused space. He and Andrew didn’t need it. Other than making sure the door to the outside stayed locked, it was an area Carter usually ignored. But now he couldn’t. He started down the stairs.
The third stair from the bottom creaked beneath his weight and he froze. Should he move forward or race back up the stairs?
His pulse pounded in his ears. Breathe.
Then he slid around the corner, flipping on the light as he moved. That’s when he felt the cold air come across the space from the outside door that stood open to the world. He sagged and then quickly straightened and shuttled around the room. No one was in it or the one next to it. He closed the door, locked it, and put a chair under the doorknob—not sure it would really keep anyone out but at a loss about what else to do before hurrying back upstairs.
Once he assured himself that Andrew still slept safely in his bed, Carter sank along the wall. There’d be no going back to sleep for him, at least not for a while.
Thirty minutes later, Carter stood and tiptoed from Andrew’s room. He pulled out the key he kept tucked above the doorframe to the dining room and inserted it into the lock on the drawer of his small workspace. With a twist it opened, and he looked at the envelope. It had rested in the drawer since he came home from the attorney’s office several days after Charlotte died. The attorney had seemed as mystified as he about what the envelope contained, but the woman relayed firm instructions to leave it unopened until Andrew turned eighteen … or there was a massive emergency.
A nightmare didn’t rise to the level of that intervention. Someone invading his home might.
But then he considered again.
Could the door have popped open while Andrew played outside after school? After all, he’d bought the house in part because of the large tree perfect for climbing and the elaborate wooden playset. He often found Andrew with an open book in hand, tucked into the two-story fort at one end of the swing set.
If he really thought there had been an invader, wouldn’t he have called the police?
As he stared at the envelope, he didn’t know what to do.
Was he overthinking? Being careless? Or too careful? Were there legal ramifications?
Janae’s face invaded his thoughts.
She was a lawyer. Maybe she would know what to do. He glanced at his watch and pushed the thought away. It was too early in the morning to burden someone else with his concerns. Especially since she didn’t know he was his nephew’s guardian. Would she understand if he told her about Andrew? Carter wasn’t a typical single dad, but he took his responsibility seriously. Anything that grew between Janae and him had to include Andrew. There wasn’t another option.
Whoa. He’d let his thoughts wander into a space that built more from their few interactions than was warranted.
Three short conversations barely created acquaintances, let alone friends.
Yet as he thought about her poised composure slipping into unvarnished honesty, he was intrigued. Could there be more?
Sunlight bathed the rhododendron bushes on either side of the walk to Grandma’s front door, and Janae took a moment to soak in the warmth. After the last few days, she needed every bit of hope she could find, even if she found it as the sun kissed her skin.
For a moment she’d let herself imagine it was God reaching down to touch her face.
She needed the reminder he loved her.
Coming home had been miserable. Her job had dried up in two days, and she’d spent fruitless hours yesterday looking for a new one without identifying one solitary lead.
It had been a calculated risk to come home, but she hadn’t expected it to be this hard.
“Are you going to stand there staring at the sky all day or come give your old grandma a hug?”
Janae dropped her gaze and then flushed as she spied Grandma standing in the doorway. “I didn’t hear you come out.”
“Luckily I heard you arrive. Who knows how long you’d have stood there.” She opened her arms wide. “I need a hug, and if this door stays open much longer, the cat will escape.”
“That cat is glued to your side.” Janae hurried up the sidewalk and stairs then gently hugged her.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off doing something exciting?”
“I gave that up when I came back.” She tried to soften the words.
“Why did you do that? Really?”
“I’m not sure anymore. I thought I wanted something different but this is a lot harder”—and more confusing—“than I imagined.”
Grandma let her go, then walked inside expecting Janae to follow her. “Then go back.”
“I can’t.”
“There’s a story there. One you’ll eventually share.”
“It’s not a pretty one.”
“The real-life stories rarely are.” Grandma patted her arm. “But those are the ones that matter. Come on. Chocolate chip cookies are on the counter. They’re even fresh, and you know everything is better with chocolate.”
Janae followed her into and through the house, the faint scent of sugar and butter tingeing the air as they neared the kitchen. “How did you know I’d come over?”
“A birdie told me.”
“Mom. What else did she tell you?”
“That you look like someone killed all your dreams. Again. She keeps me filled in on all the happenings.” Grandma glanced at the barn clock on the wall, then stepped to the counter where a couple of glasses sat. “So what are you going to do next?”
Janae tried not to wince at the brutal honesty. That question had kept her tossing and turning most of the night. The light of morning hadn’t made anything clearer, nor had the time spent walking her parents’ acres as she prayed. “I’m not sure. Shadows are making everything murky.”
“You only need light for the next step.”
“Exactly. And nothing is giving me clarity.”
“Maybe rest.”
“I need a job. Those school loans won’t pay themselves.”
“I can cover the next few months. How about you help me clean out the carriage house and then you can live there? It’ll give you a bit more independence without adding bills.” Janae opened her mouth to respond but stopped when Grandma raised her thin hand. “You can’t have many other bills. What you need is time to think and dream.”
No need to mention her car loan. “It’s too much to let you pay my bills. I’m the one who got into this situation.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t help my favorite granddaughter out.”
“I’m your only granddaughter.”
“All the more reason to let me do this. What do I need with the extra sitting in my bank account?”
“Are you sure? You can’t really mean you want me to move into the carriage house. Rent-free.” A pressure started building in her chest, and she fought to adjust her focus to the gift of having a place to land while she figured out her next steps. She’d promised herself she’d never rely on anyone, but she couldn’t handle this alone.
“What else would I mean? It’s lonely out here, and I know your mom would feel better if one of you was closer.” She grabbed the half gallon of milk from the refrigerator and quickly set it on the counter as if it were too heavy. “Just remember, I don’t need a nanny. Besides, I like having you around.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Grandma stepped behind her kitchen table, grabbed a plate of cookies, and slid it toward Janae. “Have one. I’ll grab the glasses of milk.”
Sometimes it was nice to be treated like you were six years old and your only concern was what to wear to school. The cookie practically melted in her mouth, a wonderful blend of gooeyness and all that she loved of her childhood. “While I have time on my hands, how can I help you?”
“Other than cleaning out the carriage house?” Grandma waved her hands. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m not worried, but I’m here. I’d love to spend time with you, and helping is a great way to do that.”
“You could just be with me.” Grandma looked from the glasses to the milk. “But I will let you pour the milk.”
Janae quickly complied, but she couldn’t quite push away the shadow she’d felt all day that had lengthened when Grandma admitted she might need help. As Janae scanned the room, she spied ways she could help inside. “Maybe I could help in here too.”
Grandma waved a hand as if batting the idea away. “Oh, I don’t know. It sounds like a lot of work, and one better suited to the new year.”
“Why then?”
“It’ll allow me to start my New Year’s resolutions with easy wins. We can sort through the carriage house, though. It’s such a mess. You think the rent will be free. I might need to hire a service to help.”
“And let strangers paw through your things?”
“I’m not sure there’s more than junk out there, sweetie.”
Janae grimaced at the thought of the building one could hardly walk through. “Then it’s a lot of junk, and we should send it to the dump without searching through it.”
“We might miss some treasures if we did that. After all, someone with less than me might be blessed by my junk.”
“I guess it’s possible.”
“It is.” Her grandma took a bite of a cookie, and a slip of melted chocolate drizzled down her lips.
Janae took a bite of her own, then carefully wiped her lips with a napkin. “How about starting with something simple like a room in here? We can consider it a warm-up.”
“That will be for later. Besides, it’s not so bad in here.”
Other than the clear storage containers shoved against the wall and stacked under the kitchen table, but Janae bit down on that thought. If it didn’t bother Grandma, then it shouldn’t bother her. Despite the fact she was an attorney, she actually didn’t enjoy conflict, and that would erupt if she challenged Grandma.
“Rather than worry about me maybe you should look for work in the city?”
“Richmond?”
“No.” Grandma picked up the plate of cookies and moved it to the table, and Janae followed with the glasses of milk. “DC.”
“I don’t want to work for another big-city firm.” Even if one would hire her. “I could have stayed in Philadelphia for that.” She bought a moment to think while sipping her milk. “I want to actually help people, and that’s not really what those big places do. They tend to work for corporate clients on massive litigation. I went days without seeing the sun.”
“There’s value to learning what you don’t want.”
“But what do I want? Can I find it here?” She had to, or she had moved in vain. Then she reached out and touched Grandma’s hand. No, not in vain.
“You need to trust the One who has ordered your days.” Grandma squeezed her hand. “I am glad you’re back for however long you stay.”
“Thanks, Grandma. And thanks for the offer. Staying in the carriage house is appealing.” It would give her some independence but let her be close too.
Grandma waggled her eyebrows and a hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. “I’m getting the better end of this bargain, I assure you.”
“Then I’m glad to accept.” And Janae would give herself a bit of grace to uncover her new why.
For today it would be enough to spend time here with Grandma and then go home. She would worry about her future another day.
Chapter 7
Friday, October 28
“RISE AND SHINE, SWEETHEART.”
Janae groaned the next morning at her mother’s intrusion and threw an arm over her eyes. “It’s too early. Don’t you have students who need you to improve their lives?”
“Sure do, but it’s fall break, so I can help you and your grandma with some decluttering. But you only have my help for a few days.”
Janae heard the soft swoosh as her mom walked across the laminate floor and then felt the gentle shake of her shoulder. What got her to sit up was the rich aroma of a good cup of coffee that came with the movement. “It feels like I haven’t accomplished anything this week.”
“True, but you’ll figure it out. That firm is not where you should invest your time.”
“Why does everyone tell me that now?”
“Because you didn’t ask before.” Mom sat on the edge of the bed. “I love your independence, but it means you often create a more difficult path than needed.”
“I think there’s a compliment buried in there somewhere.” Janae accepted the mug and held it under her nose. The scent alone would wake her up, but then she took a sip and sighed as the rich flavor danced along her taste buds. “I’ve missed your coffee.”
