SEDONA HAD NOT gone home at all, as she requested Dakota and Sierra be told. Instead, she had agreed to an inpatient mental health facility. That took some doing—at first she had resisted the very idea. Checking into a hospital, even if it was as plush as any resort, had not been part of her plan. Her plan had been to continue to cope by controlling her environment and keeping secret her greatest fear—that she would soon be as out of reality as her father had been since before she was born.
She had gone with Maggie to Denver, stayed with Maggie in her house and kept a few appointments with a psychiatrist by the name of Nan Tayama, a gentle woman of Burmese decent. “I’ve known Nan for years,” Maggie said. “She is the smartest woman in the world, I think. And probably the kindest. But if you don’t connect with her, I know others we can try.”
“How is it you know so many psychiatrists?” Sedona asked.
“We like the same part of the body. The brain. I like the physiology, they like the chemistry.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than chemistry,” Sedona said.
“You don’t know anything yet,” Maggie said. “First you have to be honest about what’s happening with you.”
Sedona tried her hardest. She gave Nan the benefit of the doubt. Nan was a tiny woman dressed in a suit that made Sedona wonder where she found professional-looking clothes made in such a small size. She assumed Nan was as smart and intuitive as Maggie said, and tried to open up. She explained that she’d started having manic episodes. Her heart would pound violently and she suffered from insomnia. Then the voices began. Usually it was her mother’s voice, telling her what to do. She’d already had two children, and believed she was out of the woods for schizophrenia since she was in her late twenties. She used the excuse of needing to be available for her kids and asked about working from home. Her employers accommodated her. Now, looking back, she wondered if they knew something was wrong with her and preferred to keep her out of the office. She was running analyses of psychological testing. It really wasn’t necessary that she be available for meetings or presentations as long as she supplied regular reports. And she did—long, meticulous reports. Being alone was better for her; she muttered to herself constantly, unless Bob or the kids were around, then by sheer dint of will she shut her mouth.
She went to see a psychiatrist with a good reputation and he immediately prescribed therapy and medication, but when she couldn’t wake up for the children, she stopped taking it and never went back. She was smart enough to know that meds without therapy or therapy without meds just wouldn’t do it. So, to cover what she knew was wrong, she made herself a rigid schedule that would disguise the fact that she didn’t want to leave the house, didn’t want to be with people. She went to the grocery store on Mondays, ran other errands on Thursdays, saw her parents twice a year. If her schedule went awry for any reason it was torture, but no one knew because it was apparent she used her time very well. Her house was perfect, her cooking delicious, her children excelled in school. Of course Bob wanted a social life, but she declined so often he all but gave up. She’d toss in a labored acceptance sometimes, just to keep the peace. He might be having an affair; she didn’t know. Didn’t really care. Not as long as her life was routine and no one knew her secret.
But it got worse, which of course was her worst fear. She experienced memory loss and confusion. She began to see things—animals in the refrigerator, the walls were crying, there was someone hiding in the closet in her bedroom and she was terrified to look. She couldn’t lie still in the dark; it made her bones itch. So she went to the basement—to read, she told Bob. But really she paced and muttered and tried to will it away.
She admitted to Dr. Tayama that she’d thought about suicide.
After her assessment, Sedona spent ten days in the inpatient facility, talking to the psychiatrist every day, taking medicine, enduring group sessions that for her were impossibly terrible. One thing she did grudgingly admit: the drugs were not as bad as the ones she’d been prescribed several years ago and probably a thousand times better than the ones her father had tried. She was resting better, though she’d wake up confused about where she was until she got her bearings.
She walked into Dr. Tayama’s office for her regular appointment.
“I’m so happy to see you, Sedona. You look well. Are you having a good day?”
“I think I would like it better if I could have a normal day,” she said.
“Then I have good news,” Dr. Tayama said. “You are normal. Not average, perhaps, but normal. Your version of normal.”
“It would feel good to be everyone else’s version,” Sedona said.
“Ah, that would be a problem. It doesn’t exist. I know it’s hard to be objective when you’re so far out of your comfort zone, but do you think the meds you’ve been taking are helping? Are you getting some sleep? Are the voices and images relaxing?”
“I suppose,” she said. “Whatever you’re giving me is an improvement over what Dr. Schizak gave me.”
“That was a combination of Mellaril and Haldol. I don’t know how you even got out of bed. I prescribed something that has less tranquilizing effect and isn’t an antipsychotic. I thought there was a fair chance your confusion, memory lapses and voices were induced by anxiety-provoked insomnia. Go long enough without sufficient sleep and your brain will conjure anything.”
“Anxiety?” Sedona said.
Dr. Tayama nodded. “It’s a smorgasbord of issues. Anxiety that produces isolation and sometimes antisocial behavior, insomnia, depression. Add to that some OCD. I’m still not sure if it’s the chicken or the egg—was your OCD severe enough to cause anxiety or did your anxiety lead you to attempt to control your environment as though you had OCD? In any case, to be conservative, I wanted to try a drug for anxiety and one for OCD. They behave as well as an antidepressant with some sedative side effects, just not as severe. It seems to be working. You seem alert and rested.”
“But Dr. Schizak said I was schizophrenic!”
Dr. Tayama shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think you told Dr. Schizak you were schizophrenic, like your father, when in fact you had a few symptoms that masqueraded as that disorder.”
Sedona pushed back into her chair. “Anxiety!” she said. She laughed as if in relief. “Of all the—”
“It can be very serious, as you can attest. You’re not out of the woods, Sedona. Anxiety and OCD have complicated your life, your relationships, your peace of mind, even some cognition. You have work to do. Drug therapy and counseling.”
“But it’s just anxiety!” she said emphatically.
“You thought about suicide,” Dr. Tayama reminded her. “The anxiety was so alienating and frustrating it caused depression. Not following a treatment plan—”
“I think I’ll go home now,” Sedona said abruptly as she stood to leave.
“Please take a seat and hear me out,” the doctor said. “If you leave now it will be exiting a mental health hospital against medical advice. You don’t have the best pharmaceutical protocol in place. I can’t just write you a prescription or give you a handful of pills. You need treatment, Sedona. Anxiety isn’t a state of mind, it’s a brain chemistry issue, just like depression or schizophrenia. You are not in control. Not yet. But your prognosis is good.”
“I’ll be fine now. Now that I know it’s not my father’s disease the anxiety will go away.”
“Not likely,” the doctor said. “You’re a psychologist, Sedona. You know severe anxiety isn’t nervousness or phobia...”
“I spent years recommending behavior modification for students with test anxiety and it’s been very successful. Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been a lifesaver!”
“I realize you’re feeling much better but leaving treatment now is a very big risk. I think we should talk with your husband or siblings, arrange for aftercare, get you set up with psychiatric coverage for medication and a good counselor.”
“I can handle it,” she said. “I know exactly what to do!”
The doctor stood but she had to look up to meet Sedona’s eyes. “This has happened before, Sedona. Often with disastrous results. I wish you would stay for a while, let us complete an evaluation so when you do go home you have the best possible opportunity for a better quality of life.”
“I appreciate your effort,” Sedona said. “But I hate it here. Hate it. I want my home, my family, my bed.”
“So would I,” Dr. Tayama confessed. “It won’t be too much longer. Please. You’re not entirely well.”
“I know—my version of normal, you said.”
“It’s manageable. But we need time. You need time. Patience.”
“Thank you. Goodbye, then.”
“Sedona, take my card,” she said. She scribbled on the back. “My cell number in case of an emergency. Call me if you need me.”
Sedona, feeling brand-new, took the card, smiled, turned and left the doctor’s office.
Nan Tayama sighed heavily and followed with her chart. She made a notation and handed it off to the nurse. It was not a locked facility. Sedona could pick up her personal items at the nurse’s station—items they kept locked up mainly to keep them from being lost, borrowed or stolen—her purse, her cell phone, her laptop, her charging cords. About an hour later Dr. Tayama watched from her office window as Sedona, suitcase in hand, opened the back door to what she assumed was a private car company like Uber.
* * *
It was very late on a Saturday night when Dakota held Sid in his arms, in his bed, in his cabin. “When I rented this place, it didn’t cross my mind that it might be a perfect hideaway for lovers.”
“I like it here,” Sid said. She patted his chest. “You’re a wonderful pillow.”
“I’d like to take you somewhere. Away somewhere. You can tell your brother you’re going shopping for a couple of days in Denver and we can—”
She cut him off with laughter. “He would never believe that. Besides, I don’t have to make up a story for Rob. He’s a grown-up. He’s not shocked that I have someone in my life.”
“And the nephews?”
“Well, I explained a couple of weeks ago that I was dating someone. They don’t know you so I just said you were the brother of a friend. I wanted them to know that if I was extra late or even seemed to be missing, I was not kidnapped—I was with you. And if they’re worried, they should call my cell.”
“How’d they take it?” Dakota asked, propped up on an elbow.
“Finn said, ‘Go, Aunt Sid,’ and Sean said, ‘Ew.’ I think that means they both understand what dating means to a thirty-six-year-old woman.”
“So should we go away?” he asked hopefully.
“I suppose we can. Or we can just have breakfast here...”
“You’ll stay the night?” he asked.
“Would that be good?”
“That would be so good,” he said, leaning over her and kissing her again. “I’m willing to grab a little time with you whenever we can but I’d love it if we weren’t on the clock for twenty-four hours.”
“At the moment, I don’t have commitments...”
“Do you have any in the morning?” he asked.
“No,” she said with a laugh. “I did promise to make Sunday dinner for the family. Would you like to come?”
Unbelievably, he blushed. “Sure. I’ve gotten used to Rob giving me that look like I might be debauching his baby sister, but Sean and Finn are at that special age. I don’t know what to expect from them. Could be demoralizing.”
“Debauching,” she repeated. “You did get a good education in the Army. Your vocabulary is very good. I think you should expect ‘Go, Aunt Sid’ and ‘Ew.’ And they might tease, but they don’t scare me.”
“They don’t?”
“Your family was very well behaved. Welcoming, even. They’re cool. I am in love with most of them, especially Sam. Was that a huge surprise to you?”
“Everything around here surprises me,” he admitted. “Cal and Maggie surprise me. Cal was married before. His wife died a very sad and painful death while I was in Iraq. She had scleroderma. That’s when—”
“I know what it is,” she said. “Was that long ago?”
“A couple of years before he met Maggie. And I knew Sierra and Connie talked about fostering kids but I didn’t know they were thinking about adopting. I didn’t know Connie was actually at the accident when Sam’s mother died. I think they did the right thing, getting married right away and pursuing the adoption. I haven’t been as close to my brother and sisters as I should have been. It’s hard when you’re in the military and deployed all the time. Now that I’m around them, they’re pretty cool people. I keep asking myself if they’ve always been and I was missing out.”
“What did you plan to do when you got out of the Army? I know you didn’t pin all your hopes on being a garbage collector.”
“I got out kind of suddenly,” he said. “I used to think maybe I’d teach. I don’t know what—history, maybe. I’d have to go back to school. I never did get a teaching certificate. I studied history and English and political science.”
“English!” she said, surprised.
“I think we all did, all four Jones kids. We didn’t have a TV—we read. We didn’t have many books and we’d read them over and over and then trade them at a used-book store for a new supply. Cal can recite To Kill a Mockingbird, practically the whole book. I noticed that Sierra has a full bookcase now, but there are a few completely worn paperbacks—Pride and Prejudice. Another is Wuthering Heights.”
“And your favorite books?”
“Steinbeck. Hemingway. Jack London.”
“Ah. And did testosterone flow from the pages?”
“Well, I thought so...”
“We have so much to learn about each other,” she said.
“What do you need to know? Do you need to know that I’m in trouble here? Because I’ve known you three months, been this close to you for three weeks, but it hasn’t been often enough. And I already want to sleep with you every night. And not just sleep.”
“Sex really works for you, doesn’t it, Cody?”
“It does, but that’s not really what I was thinking about. I was thinking about rolling over and feeling your soft skin, hearing you breathe—you snore a little. It’s a cute snore. When you fall asleep, you curve against me and put your leg over me. Your hair tickles me. Your hands wander...”
“Do not,” she said.
“Do so,” he argued.
“We still have so much to find out...”
“Tell me what you need to know,” he said. “You know I grew up strange—my parents are beyond crazy. It wasn’t an easy childhood and we all left as soon as we could, the second we got out of school. Cal and Sedona found a way to go to college but I wasn’t that imaginative. I joined the Army.” He brushed back her hair. “Is that what you want to know?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I want to know who you loved.”
He rubbed her hair back a little longer. “Not yet, okay?”
“Is it very private?” she asked.
“It’s private, yeah,” he said. “That’s not about you. I have this feeling I don’t want to keep things from you. But just not yet, okay?”
“That means you haven’t told your family?”
“That’s what it means. But I don’t want to talk about it right now because I don’t want to be sad. You’re in my arms and I am so happy. Can you give me a little time?”
She raked her fingers through his beard. “It must still hurt.”
“I guess. I want to feel good right now, when you’re here, naked, mine for the night.”
“Reasonable,” she said. “What do you have for breakfast?”
“Bacon, eggs, toast.”
“Do you have fruit and oatmeal?” she asked.
“It never crossed my mind.”
She sighed. “If I’m going to get a pass from my brother and nephews, we’re going to have to stock up.”
“Give me a list, gorgeous, and I’ll get anything you want.”
“Want to explore your woods after breakfast?” she asked. “I brought some outdoor clothes and shoes. In my car.”
“An overnight bag?” he asked with lifted eyebrows.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d say no. And I’m fussy about having my own toothbrush. But I’m afraid I neglected to bring pajamas.”
* * *
Maggie drove to Denver early Tuesday morning and went directly to her practice. She had left Elizabeth with Cal. She had several patients to see in the office, then she was spending the afternoon in surgery—two simple cases and one complex surgery that could last well into evening. In fact, she might have two very long days, which was why she left Elizabeth at home, though she started missing her the minute she left.
It was almost nine in the evening by the time she got to her house in Denver. She had grabbed fish and chips to go from the nearest pub. She planned to eat in bed with the TV on. She put the take-out food in the microwave to warm up while she changed into pajamas. She loved her little house but when it was quiet, like now, she wanted her husband and baby. While she was working, she was glad to be working, but to be away from them when she wasn’t working time seemed to drag.
She was aware that something was different. She couldn’t tell what it was. Back in the kitchen, it was so shining clean. Maggie was tidy but she usually left mail or a book on the counter, maybe a water glass or coffee cup in the sink, but there was not so much as a streak or smudge, not a single fingerprint on the stainless steel.
She opened the pantry and her heart sank. Everything was lined up, neatly, organized by size and color and probably alphabetized. Her house had been scoured. She did not want to see her panties folded into neat little squares. But she was pretty sure Sedona couldn’t help herself.
When they came to Denver together, Sedona had returned her rental car to the airport and spent a couple of days at Maggie’s house. She had unpacked, hung the dress she’d brought for Sierra’s wedding in the guest closet, put her pumps under it on the floor, lined up perfectly, and Maggie had taken her to her doctor’s appointments. When Sedona had agreed to an inpatient evaluation, Sedona had left behind her dress and shoes.
Maggie checked and they were gone.
It was not likely a burglar had broken in and taken them. And scoured her house. Sedona could not have called Cal—Cal would have told Maggie if he’d heard from his sister. While her fish and chips grew cold in the microwave, Maggie found Nan Tayama’s cell phone number in her phone. She texted her. Sedona’s dress and dress shoes are gone from the closet and I suspect something is wrong. My house has been scoured, top to bottom. Do you know anything about this?
She waited a few minutes. The good doctor could have been asleep for all Maggie knew. Finally the answer came. She left our facility last week. She said she was going home.
Maggie knew the rules. Sedona had agreed to hospitalization and had not named anyone to receive information about her medical condition, not even her doctor sister-in-law. But just to be sure she had to ask... Did you discharge her?
I did not, came the reply.
Can you tell me when she left the hospital? Maggie asked.
Thursday. Midday.
And that was all Nan Tayama would be at liberty to say, thanks to HIPAA laws. Maggie thanked her and called Cal. Maggie then called Bob because Cal was clearly flustered. Bob had not heard from his wife. He knew she had agreed to see a doctor in Denver and he had been so hopeful, knew she had decided to stay in an inpatient treatment program, but she hadn’t been in touch. Everyone started dialing her cell number, with no results.
By midnight, it had been established that Sedona was missing and that her mental stability was uncertain. Bob had notified the police on the east coast, since the last anyone had heard she was bound for home, and Maggie contacted the Denver and Colorado police, municipal and state.
* * *
It was quite early in the afternoon when Dakota walked into the bar. He usually couldn’t make it before five on one of his workdays. “Cody!” Sid said. He sat up at the bar in front of her and she looked over each shoulder to see who could be watching, then leaned toward him for a kiss.
“That’s nice,” he said, giving her a half smile. “Right out in public.”
“What are you doing here? Did you get fired?”
“Something came up, Sid. I don’t know where to start to explain. There was something going on with my sister Sedona, when she was here for Sierra’s wedding. Something I didn’t know about. I understand she didn’t want her siblings to know but somehow Cal and Maggie figured her out. She’s been battling some kind of mental illness and I don’t know how serious it is. That’s yet to be determined, I guess. Our father is schizophrenic but he’s never been treated or medicated, at least not since he was very young. Well,” he said, chuckling without humor, “he’s been smoking pot almost his whole adult life. Keeps the special friends quiet. According to Cal and Maggie, Sedona is not schizophrenic but she has some disorder that could be very serious if she doesn’t get some help and—”
“Oh my God, what’s happened? Spit it out!”
“Maggie got her checked into a psychiatric hospital, where she stayed for ten days, but then she decided she didn’t need to be there, so she checked herself out. She told her doctor she was going home. Bob and the kids are in Connecticut and haven’t heard from her. We can’t find her. The police have been notified. They’ve traced her movements a little bit but then all activity stopped.”
“What activity?” Sid asked.
“Well, she hired an Uber from the hospital to Maggie’s house. She stopped at an ATM, got some cash, stayed at Maggie’s house for a few days, made a plane reservation to go home, hired an Uber to take her to a nice, quiet restaurant, where she had a meal, and that’s where we think we lost her.”
“You think?”
“There was some activity on her credit card but it was all over the place. Someone could have taken her purse or just lifted the card number from the car service or the restaurant. But she isn’t answering her cell, and because she didn’t communicate with anyone, we don’t know if she’s okay or—”
He exhaled. “I’m hoping she’s taking a breather. Apparently there were troubles in the marriage that she didn’t want to talk about, didn’t want to tell me about. I don’t blame her. We’re not close. Maybe she just ran away for a little while.”
Sid shook her head. “From what I saw, Sedona seemed too invested in her family. Even in this Colorado family. Do you know what the doctors said her disorder was?”
“The police are looking into that and we’ll know soon. The thing is, she was last seen in Denver. Cal has a baby, Sierra has a baby, so...” He stopped and just shook his head.
“So?” she asked.
He straightened. “I’m going to find her. I’m going to find my sister. And I’m about the last person she’d want to be found by. I haven’t been a good brother.”
“I don’t believe you,” Sid said. “You want something to eat? Drink? A beer?”
“I’d like a sandwich, if you can. And a cup of coffee. I’m leaving from here.”
“Of course. BLT? Grilled cheese? Club?”
“Yeah, club. With oatmeal and fruit.”
She smiled at him. “I want to hold you,” she said. She felt tears come to her eyes. She had never said that to a man before. Her husband, David, seemed to have a million problems. No, he had irritants. She had never wanted to or offered to hold him.
For a split second, she let herself ponder if she hadn’t done enough. Then she remembered how selfish he had been and let it go. “Let me get your food. Then we can talk a little while.”
She went to her computer and keyed in the order, then anxiously turned back to Dakota.
But who was suddenly sitting on the bar stool next to him? The fancy woman. Neely. She was all smiles. Sid heard her say, “Well, what a surprise! I never would have thought I’d run into a friend at this time of day!”
Dakota gave her a look that said he was disgusted with her. And then he did something Sid would never have expected or predicted. He was completely rude to her.
“Not playing your games today, Neely. I have things to work out.” He stood from his bar stool and walked down to the end of the bar near the kitchen door. The look on Neely’s face was priceless. She was stunned.
Neely snapped her fingers at Sid. “Hey! Can I get a chicken Caesar?”
“Absolutely!” Sid said. “Coming right up!” And she went back to her computer. Then she brought Dakota a fresh cup of coffee. “I assume you were kidding about the oatmeal and fruit.”
“Kind of,” he said. “Waking up with you is heaven, even if it means eating oatmeal. Listen, I don’t know what this is going to take. I don’t know how long. I talked to Tom Canaday and he’s not that busy right now so he’s going to take my shift on the truck for a while. He said the money will come in handy.”
“Will you call me?” she asked.
He grinned and she knew why. “We don’t talk on the phone,” he said. “We meet in the bar or at the food bank but we don’t whisper into the phone like lovers do.”
“This seems to be a good time to start. What do you think?”
“What I think is, I could pathetically need you.”
“That would be okay. I’d like to be with you on this journey, in spirit if not in person. I think this is a good thing you’re doing. I hope she’s okay.”
“I don’t know what to expect, Sid. I always thought Sedona was the most stable kid in our family. I had no idea she was a little fucked up in the head. I mean, I did, but I didn’t. You know?”
“You have no idea how well I know,” she said. “Tell me what you’re planning.”
“I have a recent picture from Sierra’s wedding. I emailed it to a print shop and they’re making flyers for me. I’ll go to the restaurant where she had dinner. I have an appointment with the doctor—hopefully she’ll give me information I can use to help find her. Cal contacted a private detective to help us and the police have been very supportive. I asked them not to publicly mention her fragile mental state—I’m afraid if she hears that it will drive her away. She’s so secretive and proud. I didn’t know she was struggling.” He looked down into his coffee. “Sedona drove me crazy. Not as a kid and big sister, she was okay then. But once she got married and had kids, man. She drove us all crazy.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. She ran a tight ship. Her husband was too quiet and preoccupied, her kids too polite and disciplined, her house too perfect, her schedule too rigid—the polar opposite of the way we grew up.”
“But isn’t that reasonable? If she didn’t want the mirror image of the way you grew up?” Sid asked.
“Sometime, later, after we get Sedona back, I’m going to have to tell you more about my childhood and adolescence. It affected each one of us differently. The funny thing is, I thought Sedona was completely unaffected. She glided right off that farm, got scholarships and earned herself a degree in psychology, then a master’s and PhD, then a nice husband and a house out of the city. She went back to the farm twice a year to check on our parents. She took her kids a couple of times but I never heard of her taking her husband. I thought she was the most normal one of us. Now I find out...”
“She might have hit a snag,” Sid said. “Sometimes you think everything is okay. Not fabulous but perfectly satisfactory. As good as it’s going to get. Then something happens and you find out you were barely holding it together.”
“Is that what happened to you?” he asked.
“I was keeping a lot of balls in the air,” she said. “I dropped the most fragile one. Then the rest of them just went down.” There was the sound of a bell. “Excuse me a second.”
She turned away from Dakota and went to the counter to get the salad and Dakota’s sandwich. She looked around the bar. Neely was gone.
She took the sandwich to Dakota. “Did you see her leave?”
“I wasn’t paying attention. Bathroom, maybe?”
“I wasn’t paying attention, either,” Sid said. She put the salad at the place Neely had occupied, giving her a chance to come back. Then she picked up the coffee urn and refilled Dakota’s cup.
“She’s another thing I should talk to you about. Neely. I’ll give you some details when there’s more time, but don’t trust her. She’s not all right. She’s not what she seems.”
Sid frowned. “I think I could’ve guessed that the first time she snapped her fingers at me for service. Not all right how?”
“I gotta take care of Sedona first, then I’ll tell you a story. I was never involved with her in any way. Since I’ve been here, there’s only been you.”
“I’m still surprised by that,” she said with a smile that felt sentimental. “I hope you’ll be okay, Cody. I hope you can find her right away.”
He took a big bite of his sandwich. She casually watched the bar to see if there were customers in need and took note that Neely had not returned. He washed down about half the sandwich with water.
“Can I pack up anything for your drive?” she asked. “Drinks? Food?”
“I’m covered. I really hate to leave you. Now that I have to go, I realize how many things I want to tell you. Want to ask you.”
“There are some things I want to tell you, too. Like, I didn’t exactly work in computers.”
He smiled at her. “Sid, I’m picking up garbage. You really think I’m going to have a negative opinion if this is the best job you’ve ever had?”
“In many ways, it is,” she said.
“I need to go,” he said. He took a last slug of water to wash down his sandwich, a couple of swallows of coffee. He stood. “I’ll call tonight if I can. I won’t call if it’s late.”
“Cody, you can call me at any hour. We’re in a crisis mode here. I’m capable of turning off the phone if I can’t take a call but I want to hear from you. If you can... No, if you feel like talking to me, please call. I understand you have to be in touch with Cal and Sierra, but I’ll be anxious to hear, too. If only to know your progress.”
“I am going to miss the hell out of you,” he said.
“I’ll walk you out,” she said.
Just before exiting the bar, she tugged on his shirt, stopping him. She stood on her toes and threaded her hands into his overlong hair, her lips finding his.
His hands went to her hips, pulling her close, giving his lips to her. For a second his eyes were open wide, surprised by this public display. The bar wasn’t at all full, but her brother wasn’t far away and there were people there. He released her lips reluctantly. He smiled, his teeth so white against that black, trimmed beard. “Wow. PDA.”
“I’ll miss you, too. Please be safe.”
“I’ll look forward to coming back to you,” he said. And he kissed her again.