“Right.” Carol frowned. “What about her full name? Or her husband’s name. Maybe I could look them up.”
“Good grief. Why would you do that?”
“Because half the holiday travelers are stranded here, there are no hotel vacancies, and I just spent the night in the airport and am tired.”
“Oh, well then, I suppose any port in a storm.” She humphed. “Well, her name is Maria O’Harney. I remember the O’Harney name because she married an Irish man and Dad never forgave her for that.”
“I see. And do you recall Mr. O’Harney’s first name?”
“Ron? Tom? Don?” She paused. “Yes, that’s it. Donald O’Harney.”
“Great. Now do you happen to know where they live? Is it anywhere near Grand Rapids by any chance?”
“Really? You expect me to remember that too?” Another pause. “Well, I do recall he was a teacher in Grand Rapids, but that was eons ago.” Mom hemmed and hawed. “You know, Maria used to send me Christmas cards. That is until Ed and me moved out here. She either quit sending them or the post office just don’t forward them anymore. But seems I recall Dad saying that Donald gave up a perfectly good teaching job to buy a silly little farm in a one-horse town. Sounded like a dumb move to me.”
“Do you have any idea what the town was called? That might help.”
Mom started rattling some names off. “It had Creek or Springs or some kind of water word in it, but my memory is getting more and more like Swiss cheese these days. There’s some holes.” She laughed.
“Well, that might be enough to start a search. Thanks, Mom.” Carol sighed. “It’s not like I have many options anyway or anything else to do.” She paused when her phone beeped. “I have to go before my cell battery gives out. “If I do find your sister, do you want me to tell her hello for you?”
Mom coughed loudly. “No thanks, sweetie. As far as I’m concerned, Maria is dead.”
“Okay then.” Carol took a deep breath. “I hope you and Ed have a good Christmas.”
“You too, darling. Nice to hear your voice. Call me again and let me know how things turn out, okay?”
Carol agreed to do this but felt fairly certain she would “conveniently” forget. Hopefully she’d be so occupied with her Bahamian vacation by tomorrow, she’d be too busy to call anyone. That seemed a reasonable excuse.
After finding an unoccupied outlet, she plugged in her charger and started her search for small farm towns near Grand Rapids with a water word in the name. After trying Sugar Springs, she tried Venus Lake and then Miller’s Creek and got lucky. A Donald and Maria O’Harney appeared to be residents with ages listed as mid-seventies. That seemed to fit. Encouraged by this, Carol even put the extra directory charge on her credit card in order to obtain their number and full address. And suddenly the phone was ringing ... and ringing ... and ringing. She checked the terminal clock overhead, worried perhaps she was calling too early. But it was after seven now, and if they were a farm family like Mom had said, they should be up.
“Hello?” an elderly female voice crackled over the phone.
“Hello?” Carol tried not to sound too desperate. “Is this the O’Harneys’?”
“Yes, and if you’re trying to sell me something, you can just—”
“No, no, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I think you might be my aunt.”
“That’s just fine. Now, if you’re a scammer, and you’re about to tell me you’re in jail and need bail money, you can go jump in a lake. I already got troubles aplenty, thank you very—”
“I’m really sorry to bother you.” Carol couldn’t help but smile. This woman had spirit. “But can you tell me, are you Maria? Is your maiden name Banducci?”
“Yes...?” Her tone, still laced with suspicion, softened slightly.
“And is your younger sister Rosa Louise Banducci?”
The other end went silent.
“Hello?” Carol worried she’d lost the connection—or that the woman had hung up.
“Is this about Rosa?” Maria asked with quiet urgency. “Did something happen to her? Is she, is she ... dead?”
“No, no, not at all. In fact, I just spoke with her. She’s alive and well in Phoenix, Arizona. I’m her daughter, Carol Langstrom.”
“You’re Carol? Carol Louise? Goodness gracious ... Well, I never.”
“I’m not sure how close Miller’s Creek is to Grand Rapids, but I’m on my way to the Bahamas for a vacation and got stuck at the airport. I really could use a shower ... and a bed. Even for just a few hours if flights ever get going again today.” Her nerves spiked at the silence on the other end. “I mean, if you have room.”
