She crossed her arms and frowned at me. “What do you want?”
I cleared my throat again and gave a shaky, fleeting smile. “Hey, Deborah. I’m looking for someone. She used to live here.” I showed her the photo of Gracie and gave a quick description.
She shook her head. “Haven’t seen her.”
“How long have you lived here?” I had to push for as much information as possible.
She rolled her eyes and lifted her shoulders. “Like two months.”
“Is there any way I could contact your landlord?”
The couple was growing concerned with the questions. They shifted on their feet and the guy crossed his arms. She answered, “All these houses are owned by the government.”
I sighed. It was a dead end then.
“Much obliged for your time.” I retreated to the Chevy. Emotions warred for prominence. On the one hand, relief warmed my veins. I was overjoyed I didn’t find her there. On the other hand, the need for a new plan daunted me. My information was patchy. A few ancient addresses and a name she went by. If I ever found her, it would be a sheer miracle.
The Atlanta address was an earlier dated letter. Checking there seemed a waste of time, but what other hope did I have? Short of contacting authorities, there was no other plan my technologically-behind brain could think of. Wasn’t sure if I’d ever be ready for that. I’d rather go door to door.
I spent the evening at the Hampton Inn using the business center computer, Google searching every combination of the addresses and her potential names. Compared to my iPhone screen, the computer was easier for my unskilled man-fingers to navigate. A middle aged man tapped me on the shoulder. “Are you about done? The other computer is not working right now.”
I wasn’t done, but would I ever be? The clock read 8:45 p.m. I had been at the search for hours. I ran my fingers through my hair and apologized. “Sorry. Go for it.” My muscles screamed, and the black mesh chair spun as I rose. Clicking through hundreds of links and pictures stressed me out. The tension in my body almost kept me from standing fully upright.
The smell of stale coffee and chlorine hit me when I opened the business center door. I strode down the hallway, rolling my shoulders, encouraging blood to flow. I heard some screaming, then laughter, followed by a splash. I passed an all glass door and looked in. A family was playing in the indoor pool. How many years had it been since I swam? The last time was with Gracie, before everything in our lives hit the fan.
She coaxed me into swimming that night, even though it was chilly. The river didn’t warm up enough for night swims until mid-June. It was early May, and swimming in the river wasn’t for the faint of heart. Gracie was anything but faint of heart. Bold as a lion, she plunged in off the rope swing, not even stopping to test the temperature. I told her she was nuts, and I’d be right behind her. I sat in the hammock and watched instead.
She marched out of the water mad as a hornet. “Patrick Moore, you said you were right behind me.”
I shrugged, and she punched me. Then, with a glint in her eye even the darkness could not conceal, she opened her arms wide. Water was dripping off her long hair and undergarments. “Aww, you just need a hug.”
“Get away from me.” I lifted my toes to hold her back. It would’ve worked, but she launched for me, soaking my long sleeve t-shirt with her hair. I tried to push her off, our voices clashing in shrieks and laughter. By the end of it, she had me in the water, and we were having the time of our lives.
That night we had sounded much like the family at play, except our teeth had been chattering so violently we could hardly talk.
The weight I had come to dread so much settled on my spirit. I wasn’t going to find her. Something deep within me knew the truth. But I was doing everything I could to push it down. My feet drug down the carpeted hall as the thought of an empty, lonely hotel room loomed before me like a dead end.
Maybe a swim would do me good. I slipped on my Columbia shorts that easily doubled as board shorts, and headed to the pool. The family had left and the water was still as glass. I sat on the edge of the pool and dangled my legs in. It was warm and inviting, but did nothing to lift my spirit. I wondered why I came in the first place. Then I remembered the playful laughing I had heard only minutes before. The family had made the water look a lot more inviting than it really was.
I jumped in out of obligation. The water rushed over my head, and I wished someone would’ve chained me first.
SEVENTEEN
Patrick
Abrick sign reading “Sunny Acres” stood at the edge of the subdivision. Majestic oaks towered over the road, their boughs creating a canopy of cool green. I’d been riding four-sixty for the last thirty minutes, enjoying the heat and wind whipping into the truck. The temperature dropped a couple degrees under the thick branches of the mature trees, and I slowed the truck to soak in their beauty. Light splotches leaked through the leaves, and they rustled in the breeze.
The houses lining Sunrise Ridge were large and groomed. This neighborhood had been around a long while, and the people who lived here obviously had the wherewithal to care for themselves. Hope stirred in me. Maybe Gracie spent some time here. I hoped she did. She was always a sucker for old, beautiful homes. She would’ve even loved the street name.
Suddenly, my nerves melted away. I didn’t care how I found her. Married or angry. I just wanted to find her. Here. And happy.
Please, let me find you here.
I scanned the mailboxes for 1423 Sunrise Ridge. When I found it, my heart thumped to life. It was a beautiful, two-story home. White with green shudders and a flower garden on the front lawn. A picket fence followed the edges of a manicured lawn, and an Audi graced the drive.
This neighborhood in Atlanta looked like a great place to land. At first glance anyway. I pulled into the drive. As I stepped out, an automated sprinkler system clicked on, watering the lawn. I walked up the sidewalk to the front door, my heart racing like Sea Biscuit. Hope drove me forward and it took me only a few seconds to pass through the sizable front yard.
I pressed the doorbell as my eyes landed on the security camera over my head.
