“Another thing we won’t have to worry about while our kids are driven by the Secret Service. Thank you for being president and making that happen.”
He grunted out a laugh. “Never expected to hear you say that, and PS, eventually, they’ll hate us for not being able to drive like other kids do.”
“They’ll be able to someday. Just not when their friends can.”
“Which is the only time they’ll really want to.”
“True.”
She scrubbed her hands over her face. “I’m taking everything I’ve learned so far and trying to parse it into action, and nothing is popping for me the way it usually does.”
“That’s because you’re not usually looking for someone who’s missing. Usually, you’ve got a body in your morgue and a routine you follow to figure out what happened. This is an entirely different set of circumstances, so naturally, nothing is working the way you expect it to.”
“Wow, you’re good at this insightful-husband thing.”
“I’m good at you. Not so sure about the husband thing.”
“Best husband I ever had.”
He rolled his eyes. “It was a low bar,” he said, as he always did when she said that. While her first marriage had been an unmitigated disaster, this one was as close to perfection as any two people could get. She never should’ve married Peter in the first place when she was forever in love with Nick Cappuano after only one night together.
Thinking about that was far better than wondering where in the hell her precious nephew could be and whether she’d ever see him again.
* * *
The not-knowing was torturous for Brooke. She tossed and turned all night, waiting and hoping to hear something about Ethan. She was staring up at the ceiling when Nate turned to put an arm around her and draw her in close to him. That he’d slept with her in a bedroom at her grandfather’s home with hardly a glance from her parents was a testament to the tension in the house. Her sleeping with her boyfriend with her parents in the same house was the least of their concerns at the moment.
“Did you sleep at all?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. I heard my parents up all night, too.” Her tired eyes burned with unshed tears. She’d checked her phone a hundred times during the night, hoping for news that’d never come. “What’ll we do if he’s dead?”
“I know it’s really hard not to think the worst, but there’re a lot of things that could be happening short of that.”
“I just want him back so badly that it’s all I can think about, along with every memory I have with him from the day he was born.”
He caressed her arm in a soothing pattern. “Tell me about that day.”
Brooke smiled as she recalled one of the most momentous days of her life. “I was eight, and before that, I had no idea how long nine months really was. It seemed like it’d taken forever between when my mom and dad told me they were expecting a baby and when he finally showed up. It’s really more like ten months, but to me, it was endless. My mom went into labor when she was at the grocery store. She’d left her phone in the car, so we got a call from the store that she was on the way to the hospital and that Dad needed to meet her there.”
“That’s a fun story.”
“My dad was a disaster trying to remember all the things he needed to bring, and he was on his way out the door when he looked back at me and said, ‘Shit, I can’t leave you here alone.’”
Nate chuckled. “So what did he do?”
“He took me with him, and Grandpa Skip came to get me at the hospital. I came back here with him, and we ate ice cream and watched movies. That was one of my favorite nights ever with Gramps. We were so excited while we waited to hear and finally got the call at around nine that night. I had a baby brother named Ethan Charles, and he was eight pounds, ten ounces, twenty inches long and perfect in every way. His middle name was for Grandpa Skip. That was his real name, but no one ever called him that.”
“Ah, that’s some family trivia there.”
“Yeah. I wanted to go see the baby right then and there, but Gramps said we had to wait until visiting hours the next day. Then my dad called back and asked Gramps to bring me over so I could see Ethan the same day he was born.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“Dad said I was a day-one person, and I needed to be there.” She wiped away tears. “I’ve never loved anything the way I loved Ethan from the first second they put him in my arms. My own living, breathing baby doll. I wanted to do everything for him. I fed him and changed him and helped to give him baths. I loved to pick out his outfits every day and to play with him when I was supposed to be doing my homework. Leaving him to go to school was painful. I’d rush home after to find out what I’d missed since I left. I was obsessed.”
Nate brushed away the tears on her face.
“Abby was born about two years later,” she said, “and it was the same thing all over again. I never resented being asked to babysit them or spend time with them like some of my friends did when their parents asked them to watch younger siblings. I was—and am—crazy about them both.”
