Libby

Libby Miller gazed out the same window she had watched Mikayla, Jenna, and Blake ride their bikes growing up. She imagined Mikayla with her pigtails as Adam worked with her to pedal faster and faster until he’d let go, the momentum holding her upright.

She had the same memories of Jenna and Blake out on the front porch playing with chalk or running through the sprinklers as Libby looked on from the privacy of her house, smiling at them.

She’d never be able to escape the memories of Mikayla, though; they were more precious now. The front window where she sat drinking coffee, reading a book, or sipping tea was a portal to the past. Now, with everyone but Adam gone, she used this window to visit the yesteryears as if it was indeed a time machine.

Now that it was almost autumn and summer clothes were traded in for jackets, everyone went outside to enjoy the warmth until winter descended on them. She still used that window to watch her grandkids. Blake and Jenna’s children were precious to her. Watching Emily, Anna, Trent, and Dexter through that window brought her back to a time of pure elation. She’d never see Mikayla’s children through her large bay window, and every time she watched her other grandchildren, a little piece of her died at the thought.

“Mom!” Jenna shouted as she walked into the back of the house holding Anna with one hand and watching as Emily toddled in before her.

Heading toward the kitchen, she said quickly, “Oh, let me help you with that, dear.” She scooped up the pudgy Emmy and swung Anna into her spare arm. “Good morning, my lovelies. I get to spend all day with my two favorite girls. How does that sound?”

“Grammy, I wuv you,” Emily said as she squeezed Libby’s cheeks.

“I love you too, Emmy.” Her heart was full, and she could never get enough of these kids.

“Mom, I have Anna’s organic carrots. Remember, she can’t have any other food besides what I’ve packed. She can’t eat the same food as Emmy, or she’ll break out, and we’ll end up in the hospital.” It was a wonder she ever raised three kids of her own. According to Jenna, every time she left her kids with her, they would always end up in the hospital if she was not careful.

“Oh, sweetie, this is not my first rodeo, remember? I did raise three healthy children, and to the best of my knowledge, I never landed any of you in the hospital. Your brother only ended up in the ER because he thought he could walk out on the rickety branch, and it wasn’t even on my watch,” she said, teasing her anxiety-ridden firstborn.

“Yes, Mother, I know.” Her reply was delivered in a high-pitch sigh. Jenna continued as she entered the living room, surveying the space. Libby was sure she’d have a comment concerning the state of her house, though it was immaculate. “You just never had one who was allergic to everything like Anna Banana here.”

“Listen, dear, you leave for the day with Trent. Enjoy the field trip and you will come home to the same number of babies you left me with, I promise.” Libby winked at her daughter in an attempt to appease Jenna’s anxiety. By the look on her face, she was failing.

Jenna finally laughed at herself, appreciating her silliness, and said, “Okay, Mom. Call me if you need anything. I’d better run; Trent is in the car ready to go.”

After Jenna left the house, Emmy said, “Never fought dat woman would leave, Grammy!”

Jenna could linger if given the opportunity. She was so high strung. For only three years old, Emmy was very articulate. Finally, she said, “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Ems.”

As she sat down on the floor to play with nine-month-old Anna in her arms, the phone rang, but nothing could be more important than spending time playing Barbie with Emmy or loving on her Anna. Letting the answering machine pick up, she stayed put with her grandkids.

She heard the same normal greeting play: “This is the Miller’s. Leave a message and we just might get back to you.”

An unfamiliar voice began to speak. “Hi, my name is Oscar Mitchell. This is going to sound weird, but a woman approached me yesterday and handed me a hundred dollars and an envelope. She asked me to call this number in twenty-four hours and read the contents of it to you.” She sat with her granddaughters, thinking this was some sort of scam. “Anyway, here is what it has to say.

‘Mom and Dad- It’s Mikayla. I know you probably won’t believe it’s me, but it is. Remember when I fell off my bed and got a scar on my left ear? Only I could achieve that. I’m okay, and I’m happy. I just wanted you to know.” Before he could finish the letter, she was on her feet with Anna on her hip and Emmy running with her grammy toward the phone. In the coolness of the house, Libby’s entire body broke out in a cold sweat. Between her trembling hands and damp palms, she’d barely been able to bring the headset to her ear.

With Anna screaming, sensing her grammy and Emmy asking a million questions, she finally could speak. “Hello, who is this?”

* * *

Once she could understand the whole story from Oscar Mitchell, he read the rest of the letter from the beginning to end. It continued, “I know you don’t understand, and I’m not sure I do either, but I love you. Again, I’m happy. Please know this. Love, Mikayla.”

After she explained to Oscar Mitchell, with crying kids in the background, that her daughter Mikayla disappeared twelve years ago, he was happy to help in any way he could.

As soon as she could reach Adam and her daughter-in-law, Taylor, they rushed to the house in minutes along with the local police.

Taylor, seven months pregnant, was a godsend and a wonderful fit for the Miller family. Though she’d never met Mikayla, Libby felt as if Taylor knew her long-lost sister-in-law better than she knew any of the other Millers, even her own husband. Taylor scooped up Emmy and Anna, along with Dexter, who was in her shadows, and took them all upstairs and out of the hoopla. Blake arrived thirty minutes after everyone else, and they all sat there, struck with wonder, disbelief, and sadness that after all these years, they’d finally heard from Mikayla.

* * *

Taylor

She remembered when Mikayla Miller vanished but wasn’t aware of her future husband’s genealogy until Blake became a staunch fixture in her life. At first, she didn’t understand Blake. Early on in their relationship, she saw him as an enigma, someone who had been on his way to the NFL, just to have it stripped away. But even in the small bits and pieces of information he divulged, he was all she wanted, the man of her dreams. Even though he was five years her elder, he was the only man she’d slept with, and she loved him instantly. Everything about Blake Miller shouted and screamed “family man.”

For some reason no one could ever explain, Mikayla’s disappearance was the only news story Taylor kept up with that year. All the hearsay of this missing girl was her new obsession. Taylor’s very own sister, Alyssa, called Mikayla her long-lost sister from a parallel universe because of her fixation on the Miller case. Through the eleven years she’d been a part of the Miller clan, she knew Mikayla better than she knew Jenna, and she had never met her missing sister-in-law. Everyone still talked about her as if she’d walk back through the door at any second. “Mikayla would love being an aunt,” people would say. “She’d love you, Taylor, and you two would be the best of friends.” Libby was adamant about this fact. She wondered if Libby had always treated her more like a daughter than a daughter-in-law because she missed Mikayla immensely.

When Blake suggested they name their baby girl after his missing sister, she wasn’t sure she wanted her child to carry that burden. She felt naming their baby girl Kayla might be a better way to honor their daughter and Blake’s sister than giving her the full name of a missing person. However, the damage was already done when she suggested this to her husband. It was a long fight, and Blake accused her of a lack of sympathy. Taylor came back and said maybe she’d know more about his sister if he opened up, and at the comment, Blake lit in to her, calling her callous and cunning. In the end, Blake felt like an ass and begged his beloved wife for forgiveness. That didn’t change his mind, but they compromised a little and said they would give her a nickname. Of course, it was one he’d pick—she knew that already. Blake’s word was steadier than the Ten Commandments.

Arriving at her in-laws’ house seven months pregnant with a toddler in tow, she tried to shelter her nieces and son from her distraught mother-in-law but wondered when the local news stations would pick up the new development of this letter that appeared out of thin air.

She recalled all the parents in Bellingham, including her own, tightening the reins of their children in the area. No one knew if this was a random tragedy or planned, and some feared Washington might have another serial killer on its hands. There was never a trace of Mikayla, and it baffled investigators, especially Fallon, the detective assigned to the Miller case.

When she met Blake Miller, she had no idea he was that Miller. In order to graduate early, she had to take summer classes, and her first summer session was in Professor Miller’s Economics class. Noticing the cute guy, she’d assumed he was a graduate student, but she found out later the professor had wrangled his son to work for him that one summer. She felt him watching her constantly, and it wasn’t hard to reciprocate those feelings because he was handsome. With light brown hair and deep green eyes, his sex appeal could marvel any rising Hollywood star. However, in the end, when she’d tried to spark conversation with the cute assistant, nothing seemed to work. She’d been baffled. Maybe she misread the signals.

On the last day of class, he called, “Miss Jennings, can I speak with you for a second about your last assignment? There are some concerns.”

Her heart sank. The class was brutal, and she was barely able to complete the assignment on time, though she felt it was her best work. “I’m sorry, is there a problem?”

“Yes, there is. You were in my class. As of this minute, this class is over, and I was hoping you’d agree to let me take you out for dinner.”

She laughed in relief. “You about gave me a heart attack, thinking my assignment was wrong.”

“I wouldn’t know; my dad will grade them. I just record them and sit here through all his boring lessons.” She’d always heard her girlfriends talk about panty-melting smiles. Now she understood what that saying meant. With his smirk brightening her day in many ways, he continued, “So, back to my original question. Dinner?”

Blushing, she replied, “I’d love to have dinner with you.” The name Miller was too popular, and it never crossed her mind that this Miller was related to her obsession from earlier in the year.

As their relationship developed, she knew she’d be bonded with this family forever one day, as if it were destiny.

* * *

Colette

“What a long night.” Colette let out a sigh of relief that the horrid routine was finally complete, and she had a twenty-four-hour reprieve until she underwent the torture again. Normally, she had David, her everything, here to help her, but the hospital called him in for an emergency. Such was the life of a doctor’s wife. Pouring herself a glass of red wine, she laid on the sofa with her book club’s current novel and tried to concentrate on the eloquent words of Margaret Atwood. Maribel finally convinced their book club to pick a novel by this famous Canadian author. Jodie Picoult, John Grisham, and James Patterson seemed to be the only books this group of ladies would pick. She was happy to know her sister-in-law would stop complaining that the voting was fixed.

As she sat trying to immerse herself in the “best author,” according to Maribel Dubroise, it was hard to wrap her mind around the fact she had been with David for twelve years. This became her life’s dream as soon as she realized she loved him. The moment she confirmed her feelings, it seemed as if her life was predestined. He was her everything—he and their children. She never thought of the life that she left or the lost and battered person she was when they met all those years ago. No one would believe her if she shared her story. Her life was far from perfect but she was happy and loved David more than anyone on this earth, aside from the kids, of course.

They moved to Edmonton just over eleven years ago but still visited their spot outside of Calgary every summer. She loved the farm because it held so many happy memories of their beginning together. Even before she was Colette, she remembered memories that led to her becoming the person she was today.

David was happy; he had a booming medical practice, and they lived just minutes from her sister-in-law, who was her soul sister. Maribel was her best friend, and they’d seen each other through the hardest times in life. She missed Maribel and Lucas, along with their crazy boys. Having left the week before for a trip to Disneyland, they’d be back the day after next. She couldn’t wait to see Maribel. She needed to know how it went and if Maribel could pull it off. Neither one of their husbands knew the “it” of the equation, but Colette was desperate for just a sliver of information.