311 Pelican Court
Page 21

“This is Zachary Cox. Would it be possible to speak to my wife?” he asked the school secretary, not remembering until after he’d spoken that he was no longer married to Rosie. “It’s important.”
“Please hold.”
He must have waited five minutes before Rosie picked up the extension. “Zach,” she said, alarm in her voice. “What is it?”
“Allison skipped school.”
“What?” Rosie was as shocked as he was. “Today?”
“That’s right. She conveniently missed the bus, but I insisted on dropping her off. I should’ve known something was up, because she wasn’t happy with my offer to chauffeur her.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t have a clue.” His initial reaction had been anger, but now he was alarmed. Allison was fifteen years old. His mind whirled with countless possibilities, none of them pleasant.
“I’ll meet you at the house as soon as I can.”
“You can leave the school?”
“I can if it’s a family emergency, and if this doesn’t qualify, I don’t know what does.”
Zach got to the house ten minutes before Rosie did. Zach watched her pull into the driveway; the car jerked forward as she stepped hard on the brakes. The driver’s door was open before the engine was completely dead.
“We need to call Hannah’s mother,” she said as she rushed past him and into the house.
Zach hated letting Rosie see what a mess the house was. After all the complaints he’d made about her housekeeping skills, the state of the living room was embarrassing. Thankfully she barely noticed as she ran into the kitchen and opened the drawer below the telephone, which was mounted on the wall.
She rummaged through the drawer until she found the address book. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted the receiver from its cradle.
The transformation was truly amazing. As soon as the other woman—presumably Hannah’s mother—answered the phone, it seemed Rosie didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hello, Jane…yes, I know it’s been ages. Good to hear your voice, too.”
Rosie caught Zach’s gaze and rolled her eyes. He smiled for the first time that day. Grabbing a kitchen chair, he straddled it as Rosie did her investigative work.
“I understand Hannah and Allison are in the same algebra class. Yes, she’s doing really well. She has her father’s head for numbers. I think she’ll probably be put in the advanced class next tri.”
If that was true, it was news to Zach. The last school papers he’d found—by accident, when Allison had left them on the kitchen table—gave every indication that she was close to flunking out of math class.
“I heard Hannah went to Homecoming with J. T. Manners. Isn’t he a friend of Ryan Wilson’s?”
Zach watched as Rosie made a few murmurs of agreement. Her eyes narrowed and she reached for a pencil and hurriedly wrote something down. Zach stood and looked over her shoulder. In an instant his anger flared back to life. Rosie had written: She took the ferry to Seattle.
The very thought of his daughter wandering around downtown Seattle by herself was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. A second or two later, he realized Allison probably wasn’t alone. That no-good biker-wannabe boyfriend was most likely with her.
After a few more minutes, Rosie replaced the receiver.
“How do you know she’s in Seattle?” he demanded.
“Jane sings like a canary the minute she knows she has an audience. She knew and was dying to tell me.”
“Hannah isn’t with her?”
“Who knows.” Rosie was angry, too. She started suddenly for the front door.
“Where are you going?” Zach asked.
“To move my car. I want the two of us to be waiting here when she comes sneaking back.”
Zach liked the idea of lying in wait for Allison. It was the best way he could think of to prove to his rebellious daughter that she wasn’t going to outsmart him.
A few minutes later, a breathless Rosie returned. She took the chair across from him and exhaled slowly. They sat in the kitchen without speaking for five minutes. Ten…The silence felt strange and awkward, as though each was afraid of bringing up the subject of their difficult daughter. Zach knew he was. If they started talking, he might have to admit the role he’d played in this mess.
Furthermore, Zach wasn’t sure what to say, especially after his enlightening conversation with Janice that morning. Apparently Rosie didn’t either. When he thought he couldn’t sit still a moment longer, Zach stood and began straightening up the living room. Rosie tackled the kitchen, which was in even worse shape. Once he’d finished vacuuming, he moved into the kitchen. They worked side by side for an hour.
“You hungry?” Rosie asked.
Zach hadn’t thought about it, but now that she asked, he realized he was. “A little.”
“How about a ham sandwich?”
He shrugged.
“Do you want a slice of pineapple to go with it?”
“And cream cheese?” he asked hopefully. When they’d first started dating Rosie had invented the sandwich and it was his all-time favorite. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had one.
As Rosie put the sandwiches on plates, he got cold sodas from the refrigerator, and they sat down across from each other again. Searching for possible topics of conversation, Zach almost mentioned that Janice had handed in her notice. He bit his tongue before he could make such a foolish mistake. Rosie would certainly gloat over that information. She was apparently dating this widower now, and the relationship must be going well. She might be stressed and tired, but he’d never seen her look better. He glanced away before she caught him staring at her.
They heard the front door open, followed by the sound of teenage laughter.
Zach and Rosie were instantly on their feet. They hurried into the living room and discovered Allison, another girl Zach didn’t recognize—possibly Hannah—and Allison’s so-called boyfriend. The three teens froze when they saw Zach and Rosie.
“What do you want?” Allison demanded, glaring defiantly back at them.
“I think it would be best if your friends left now,” Zach said.
“They can stay if they want.”
“I don’t think so.” If she was looking for a standoff in their battle of wills, Zach figured he had the advantage. He stalked over to the front door and opened it wide. “Nice seeing you both, don’t come back again unless invited.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do I make myself clear?”
Ryan nodded and edged toward the front door as though he couldn’t get away fast enough. The other girl looked unsure, then decided leaving was probably her best option.
“Where have you been?” Zach snapped.
Rosie stepped forward. “Don’t give her the opportunity to lie, Zach,” she said, sounding perfectly calm and reasonable. He, on the other hand, was furious and not afraid to show it.
“Why should I tell you?” Allison muttered. She crossed her arms and stared angrily at them both.
“You skipped school and took the ferry over to Seattle.”
That her mother knew was clearly a shock to Allison. The girl’s lips curled as if she were about to ask where Rosie had uncovered that information, but she stopped herself before the question had formed.
“You’re going to have to be smarter than this if you want to fool your parents,” Rosie said smoothly.
Zach was grateful that Rosie was the one doing the talking. In his present frame of mind, he was useless. The urge to take Allison by the shoulders and give her a good shake was almost overwhelming. He’d been worried sick. Apparently she didn’t know what she’d put her parents through; furthermore she didn’t care. That was the crux of the matter. She didn’t give a damn, and he said as much before he could censor the words.
“That was a crazy, selfish stunt you pulled, and I’m here to tell you it won’t be happening again.”
Allison’s eyes flared with defiance. “I hate you!” she shouted. “I hate you both.”
“You can hate me all you want, but you’ll respect the rules of this family.”
“This family,” she echoed. “What family? You destroyed our family.” She pointed at Zach and then Rosie. “Both of you destroyed our family. I hate you—I hate both of you for what you did.” Whirling around, she raced toward her bedroom and slammed the door with enough force to rattle the pictures on the wall. The eight-by-ten family portrait, taken two years previously, swung violently and then crashed to the floor. The glass shattered.
Silence ensued, and Zach collected his breath. “Well,” he murmured, “that’s that.” He wasn’t proud of the way he’d lost his composure. In fact, he didn’t feel proud of much at the moment.
At least Rosie had been with him when he’d confronted Allison and they’d faced her united. She was much better at this sort of thing than he was. His ex-wife knew what to say. He didn’t.
After a few minutes, Rosie gathered her purse and coat and started for the front door. She seemed reluctant to leave and he was equally unwilling to let her go.
“Thanks,” he said, walking with her. “You handled the situation ten times better than I could have. I’m grateful you were here.”
She shrugged, dismissing his praise.
The irony didn’t hit him until after Rosie was gone. It seemed that they got along a whole lot better since they were divorced than they had while they were married.
Twelve
Saturday morning a week before Thanksgiving, Maryellen woke with a mission. Her nails were a mess. She was badly in need of a manicure and polish, and felt eternally grateful that she’d managed to book an appointment with Rachel at Get Nailed. Because Jon’s days off changed from week to week, Maryellen was never entirely sure when to schedule an appointment. As soon as she learned he’d be taking Katie on Saturday morning, she’d phoned the salon. Rachel could do her nails but didn’t have a free slot to trim her hair.
Maryellen never seemed to have time for herself anymore. Being a single mother and holding down a job was much more demanding than she’d ever envisioned. It wasn’t uncommon for Katie to wake up once and sometimes twice a night. If it hadn’t been for Jon taking their daughter on random evenings, Maryellen wouldn’t have slept through a single night in the entire three months since Katie’s birth.
As soon as she’d showered and dressed, Maryellen headed for Get Nailed, her spirits high.
Rachel was finishing with her previous client when Maryellen entered the shop. Her nail appointment had gone from once a week to whenever she could fit it in. This time it’d been three weeks since she’d last seen Rachel, but that couldn’t be helped.
Maryellen loved the “girls” at Get Nailed. They were witty and a little on the wacky side. A year earlier, they’d come up with the unusual idea of a Halloween party at which they introduced their discarded boyfriends to one another in the hope that someone else might find “true love.” In the beginning it had actually sounded like a workable idea and several of the girls had hooked up with guys. Then catastrophe struck when certain behavioral problems exhibited earlier in the discarded boyfriends resurfaced. Maryellen still smiled when she thought about it. The disastrous party was long forgotten now.