Heart Like Mine (39 page)

“There’s more,” I said, and then quickly detailed everything else Ava was going to tell him about lying to him, skipping class, and sneaking over to her mother’s house, trying to find out more about Kelli’s past. Considering the circumstances, I figured he needed to know and it didn’t matter that it was me who told him and not Ava. He shook his head as he listened, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. I reached over and put my hand on top of his leg; the muscles were rigid under my touch. He didn’t say a word, but I could see the tendons working along his jawline as he clenched his teeth.

My stomach flipped over, at this point a little fearful of how he’d react to the rest of what I had done but knowing I needed to tell him everything. “So, after Ava and I found that letter from the doctor Kelli contacted, I did a little digging on my own. When I realized he was an OB, I suspected the reason the photo album went blank when she was fourteen was because she might have gotten pregnant. But I also suspected that maybe she’d given up the baby for adoption.”

“She didn’t,” Victor said slowly. “It died.”

What?
I blinked a few times, the gears inside my head grinding to a stop as I processed the impact of his words. “Hold on. You
knew
she got pregnant?” I swung my gaze to meet his. “I specifically
asked
you what drove Kelli and her parents apart and you lied to me?”

He shot me a dubious look as he finally entered Kelli’s neighborhood. “And how is that different from you taking my daughter to her mother’s house and then keeping it from me?”

“It’s
totally
different,” I said. “You knew exactly what
might
have led Kelli to kill herself. I was terrified that she might have done it because of our engagement . . . that it was possible I’d somehow contributed to her death by simply being with you, and you deliberately
lied
to me. You never asked me outright if I’d taken Ava to her mom’s house.”

“Because I didn’t have a
reason
to!” He slammed on the brakes so he wouldn’t miss the turn onto the right street.

I jumped at the anger in his tone, still unaccustomed to Victor’s losing his temper with me. Seeing my reaction, he continued in a slightly calmer voice. “By your logic, lying by omission is not as bad as lying outright? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes!” I sighed then, realizing I was being a little ridiculous, considering he was right. I hadn’t been totally honest with him, either. “Look. We’re stressed out right now and I really don’t want to fight. I understand why you didn’t tell Ava, but me?
That
I don’t get.”

“I was just trying to honor Kelli’s wishes. I felt like it was the least I could do for her after she died. She was intensely private about the whole thing and I knew she wouldn’t want the death of her baby to be a subject of discussion.” He paused and threw me a sideways look as he pulled up in front of Kelli’s house. “And I didn’t
know
you thought our engagement might have had something to do with how she died. You never
said
anything.”

I took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Again, he was right. And what mattered now was finding Ava, not what was happening between us. “I’m sorry,” I said as we got out of the car. He nodded and reached for my hand, and we raced up the steps.

Victor unlocked the front door. “Ava?” we both called out, walking through every room but coming up empty. The air was stagnant and cold and I shivered. She wasn’t there. Victor tried calling her again, but she didn’t pick up. I called Bree and sent Ava another text, but again got no reply from either of them. We locked the door and headed back to the car.

“It’s starting to rain,” Victor said once we were in our seats and he’d restarted the engine. “
Damn it
.” He pounded the dash with his fist. I reached over and laced my fingers through his. He squeezed my hand and the long look we gave each other said more than anything either of us could have articulated. He held my gaze for another moment before speaking again. “Where else could she be?”

“This might sound a little nuts, but do you think she’d try to get to California?” I asked. “To see her grandparents? She called them on Thanksgiving.” I paused, realizing I’d forgotten to tell him this.

“Jesus,” Victor said, pulling away from the curb. “Is there anything else I should know?”

I cleared my throat. “Well . . . possibly. I know you said Kelli’s baby died, but I checked the census database in Sonoma county, and it listed a Baby Reed born to Kelli Reed in 1994. The father was unknown.”

“Okay. And?” Victor glanced over at me, eyebrows raised, as he drove us out of Kelli’s neighborhood.

“So, if the baby had
died
, it would have been listed right next to the birth information. Like on a tombstone. But it wasn’t.”

Understanding blossomed across his face. “Are you saying . . . ?” He trailed off and blinked a couple of times. “That Kelli
lied
? That her baby is alive?”

I shook my head. “We don’t know that she lied. Maybe the baby was given up for adoption, and her parents didn’t want anyone to know so they made her
say
it didn’t survive? It’s clear they hid the pregnancy by sending her away.” I shrugged. “Talking with them is probably the only way to know for sure. If they’ll tell you.”

He looked over his left shoulder and pushed hard on the brakes before yanking the car back to the curb. “You drive. I’ll call them.”

We switched places, leaving the car running. “Where do you think we should go?” I asked. “The bus station? That’d be the cheapest way to travel, right? She could have asked Bree for money, which is probably why neither of them are answering their phones. They’re probably together.” I hoped this was right. I hoped she wasn’t stupid enough to try to hitchhike. Again, horrible images flashed through my mind and I blinked to try to erase them.
Please, let her be okay.

I pulled back into traffic as he dialed Kelli’s parents. The rain was coming down fairly hard now, the drops pelting the car like a thousand tiny hammers. Thunder rumbled, and a moment later, a blaze of lightning followed. It was only a little past four thirty, but the charcoal clouds darkened the air around us.

“Ruth?” Victor said after he’d dialed Kelli’s parents. “It’s Victor.” He paused. “That’s right, Kelli’s husband.” He gave me an apologetic look, but I waved it away, knowing what he meant. “My daughter, Ava, the one who called you a few weeks ago? She’s missing.” He paused again and grabbed the door handle as I took an especially sharp corner. “Well, it
does
concern you, actually, because we think she’s on her way down there.”

He went on to explain that he knew about Kelli’s first daughter and that we suspected she hadn’t died. He listened for a moment or two as we crested the West Seattle Bridge and I made my way over to the First Avenue exit toward downtown. “No, Ruth. The baby
didn’t
die. I don’t know whether you told Kelli she had to lie or just made her believe that her daughter had died, but either way, that child is eighteen years old now, and we are going to find her, with or without your help.” He took a heaving breath, trying to keep his composure. “Now, here’s the deal. My daughter disappeared and I’m not one goddamned thing like you and your husband . . . I’m not
happy
she’s gone. She is only thirteen years old and she needs us. She’s confused and worried and scared and probably feels like her whole world has fallen in on her.” His tone escalated, louder with every word. “Her mother—your
daughter
—just
died
. Do you understand that? Do you have any feelings about that at all? When you didn’t come to the funeral, I figured it was for the best, so Max and Ava wouldn’t be exposed to the people who’d made their mother’s life so miserable. I gave you a pass, but now I realize that I shouldn’t have. I need you to tell me the truth, please. Tell me what happened to Kelli’s baby. You owe Ava that much. You owe it to your
daughter
!” He practically shouted this last sentence.

Victor listened a little longer, still breathing hard, and I reached over and rubbed the top of his thigh. He put his hand over mine just as we arrived at the bus station. I scanned the crowd on the sidewalk for Ava and Bree, but the sea of umbrellas and dark raincoats made it impossible to discern any faces.

A moment later, Victor hung up the phone. “What did she say?” I asked, turning off the engine.

“You were right,” Victor said. “Kelli’s daughter didn’t die, but her parents told her she did. They arranged a closed adoption through a private lawyer.”

“What?” I said with a small gasp. “How did they manage that without Kelli knowing?”

“She said something about Kelli signing papers and not realizing what they were. Everyone at the hospital just assumed she knew she was giving the baby up.”

“Oh my
god
, that’s
awful
. Poor Kelli. I wonder if she knew the truth.”

“I have no idea,” he said. He froze for a moment and looked at me with cavernous fear in his eyes. “What if Ava’s not here? What if we don’t find her?” His voice was stretched thin.

I reached out again and linked my fingers through his. “Then we’ll call the police. We’ll call the National Guard. We
will
find her, Victor.” He nodded again, desperate to believe me, and together, we made our way out into the cold, dark rain.

We went to Bree’s house first. I watched as she packed a small bag, filling it with clothes and her toiletries. She even grabbed her bathing suit.

“We’re not going on
vacation
,” I said, my arms crossed over my chest as I stood in her bedroom, waiting for her. We had to hurry so we could get to the bank, then to my dad’s house and onto the bus that would take us downtown.

She grinned. “It’s California, isn’t it? You never know.”

I shook my head, my heart racing, thinking about what it would be like, showing up at my grandparents’ house. I’d found their address a few weeks ago in one of the boxes Dad had brought back from Mama’s house, though I still couldn’t help but worry they might refuse to talk with me. What would Bree and I do then? We’d be hundreds of miles away from Seattle with nowhere to stay. I wasn’t even sure if we’d be able to pay for a hotel room; I was afraid we might be too young.

“Hey,” Bree said, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m ready.” She tilted her head, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, releasing a huge breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Let’s go.”

An hour later, Bree had withdrawn six hundred dollars from the bank, and we had stopped at my dad’s house so I could pack a
bag, too. Not knowing how long we’d be gone, I didn’t know how much to bring, so I just filled one of Mama’s small black suitcases with a pile of underwear, jeans, and tops. I thought about writing Dad a note, just so he wouldn’t worry too much, but I decided it was probably better not to leave any kind of hint about where we’d gone. I cringed as I thought about how my dad would react when he realized I’d run away, how worried and angry he’d be, but I forced myself to stop. I was going to California for Mama. This was my last chance to find out what happened to her, why her parents had sent her away. Dad would be so grateful when I came home, he’d forgive me right away for everything I’d done. I’d become the kind of daughter he’d brag about to his friends. I wouldn’t lie or skip school or be rude to Grace. We could have a fresh start.

It was three o’clock by the time we were finally ready to lock up the house and head downtown. From the bus stop around the corner, it only took twenty-five minutes to get to the corner of Eighth and Stewart, about a block away from the Greyhound station. Bree looked up the address on her smartphone and confirmed the next bus from Seattle to San Francisco wasn’t until six, so we had plenty of time. “We’ll have to transfer in San Francisco to another bus that will take us to San Luis Obispo,” she said as we walked down the street from the bus stop. “This is going to be a
long
trip.”

“How long?” I asked, my belly twisting a little. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. What had been so clear to me just hours before suddenly seemed ridiculous. Getting on a bus with a bunch of strangers and riding hundreds of miles to see the grandparents who hadn’t given a damn about me or Max. About their own
daughter
.

“Almost a whole day,” she said, and again, I briefly considered
turning around and just heading back home. But once inside the station, Bree and I pushed our way through the masses and dropped onto one of the benches, trying to hold our breath against the stink of body odor, which was worse than in our school gym after the boys played dodgeball.

“Should we buy our tickets?” Bree asked, but I shook my head.

“Maybe we should wait a little bit,” I said. Seeing the look on her face, I quickly added, “Just until the line goes down.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. We sat together for about an hour, watching the people around us, whispering comments back and forth about how they looked or what they said to each other. The walls were tiled, so every noise was echoed and loud; people squabbled over which bus they should take to get to their destination on time and who remembered the snacks. A couple of guys next to us fought about whether or not they’d packed enough weed for the trip, and Bree rolled her eyes at me, mouthing the word “stoners.”

Just as I was about to tell Bree that this was a stupid idea and we should probably just go, my eyes flew to the main doors as a rush of travelers came inside, shaking off their umbrellas. I saw Grace before she saw me. She wore jeans and a black jacket, and her red hair was in a wild, wet mess around her face. My dad was right behind her.

“Look,” I said, nudging Bree with my elbow. She turned her head toward the door, then looked back to me and smiled.

“Should we make a run for it?” she asked, only partially teasing.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, slowly standing up. Grace scanned the room and when her eyes landed on me, her hand flew to cover her mouth. I waved, unsure if I should feel
terrified or relieved that they’d found me so easily. Grace turned to my dad and pointed to me. They raced over, and as soon as Dad was close enough, he grabbed me hard, lifting me off of the ground.