The bass line of the music playing at The Ruckus infused the room, thumping unendingly.Her thoughts swirled, refusing to straighten out and move in a straight line.She tried to pluck out pieces that made sense, but they were like scraps of paper in the wind.Every time she thought she had one, it would switch directions and move out of her grasp.
When the phone rang unexpectedly, it blended with all the other noise in her head.Once she recognized the sound, she stood so quickly the boots fell onto the floor.She hurried to the bedroom to search through her clothes.Her hands were clumsy as she pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans.
“Billy?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.“It’s Maxie.”
Roxie’s shoulders drooped.The momentary burst of energy disappeared, and she clutched the back of the counter stool.
“Is this a bad time?”her sister asked.
Roxie looked around the room.She didn’t have a clue what time it was.The room was darker than it had been, but the energy of The Ruckus gave her no clues.Was the night just getting started?Was it closing time?It was another of those thoughts that flitted away.“It’s fine.What’s up?”
The moment the question was out, she had the vague cognition that maybe she should be worried.Late night calls were rarely good.
“I don’t know.”There was the sound of a teakettle whistling in the background.“I just felt a really strong need to call you.”
Roxie moved back to the sofa and sank onto it.The triplet radar was running on full power.
That teakettle kept whistling.“Is something wrong?Are you okay?”
A lie jumped to her lips, ready to go, only the words got stuck.It was what she always did, bucked up and pretended things didn’t affect her.Pushed them away.Lexie had called her on that tough girl act, and now so had Billy.She was feeling anything but invincible tonight.She needed to talk to her sister, but she didn’t even know where to start.“I’ve had a really bad day.”
“Oh, honey.What happened?”
The empathy made her throat thicken.“The billboard was taken down.”
The teakettle choked off.“Our billboard?No!”
Her sister’s disappointment didn’t have nearly the panic that hers had, but the sadness was there.Roxie cuddled up in a tighter ball on the sofa.She hadn’t realized how invested she’d gotten in that stupid thing.“And there are no leads on our parents.”
She tried to push away the nagging feeling that the two were connected.The gut instinct.Billy was right.The billboard had been lucky—she wasn’t going to let go of that—but it wasn’t magical.
There was the sound of a chair sliding.Maxie must be in her kitchen.Roxie loved that homey kitchen with the herb garden in the window that overlooked the big backyard.
“That’s okay,” her sister said.“None of us has made much progress on the search.I hope you didn’t feel like we put it all on your shoulders.”
Funny, but that’s where all the weight seemed to be bearing.Roxie rolled her shoulders, but the tension wouldn’t go away.She wasn’t the patient type.Once they’d made the decision to look for the rest of their family, she’d wanted results.
“It’s been years,” Maxie said softly.“It could take a while.”
It could take forever.Roxie grabbed a throw pillow and squeezed it to her chest.She didn’t know if she could bear that.
“Billy left.”
The words just came out without any plan or forethought.
Maxie paused.“Because he had to get back to work?”
“We had a big fight tonight.”Although right now, it didn’t seem as much a fight as the two of them being brutally honest with each other.
“Oh, Roxie.”
Roxie wanted to wave it off—that damn self-preservation instinct again—but her hand was clenched too tightly in the pillow.“It was due.Overdue really.We managed to be around each other much longer this time.”
“No.You two aren’t meant to be apart.You belong together.”
Roxie’s stomach clenched.She’d thought that way once—and she’d slipped into that mindset too many times over the past week—but she knew better.She knew how her story with Billy went.Her life had looped around time and time again, and their ending was always the same.A psychic had even confirmed it.
