I grab my phone.
Me: Can you pick me up in 30 minutes? Let’s get a head start on the celebration.
Strider: I can do that.
Me: Sweet. I need to fall off my segway with fewer spectators. By the time the rest of the family arrives, I’ll be a master.
Strider: Keep telling yourself that, Lolo.
My phone rings with Ayla’s name flashing on the screen, and I switch apps, putting the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Lorien, it’s Ayla.” Her words are rushed out.
I knew that. “What’s up? You sound tense.”
“’Kay. I don’t want you to panic, but we heard from Liam. Something’s happened?—”
“What?” I interject, forgetting all my manners about interrupting and overtalking.
Her voice drops. “It’s not good, but it’s fixable.”
“Ayla.” My own voice is a whisper. Worry leaches through every syllable.
“Liam got a text out to Christian and the guys. He’s in trouble in Wyoming. They’re going to find him.”
“He mentioned Jackson Hole before….” My voice is barely audible. “I forgot.”
“Can you think of anything else? Anything at all?”
I replay the conversation in my mind, but there’s nothing. We got tangled up in the details about this weekend and changed topics.
“Nothing. What can I do? I feel helpless.”
“I don’t know. Annika calls him the Kool-Aid man, though, and I’m counting on that spirit.”
“Who’s Annika? Do I want to know?”
“I forget you don’t know everybody yet. It feels like you’ve been around longer than you have. Hold on.”
What? She’s jerking me around though I don’t think she means to. I wander, throwing on shorts and searching for a t-shirt for the day. I’ve put on two different socks by the time she comes back, and I’m reminded of my panicked run to the airport.
“I’m back, but I need to go. I’ll keep you posted, okay?”
I haven’t echoed herokaywhen she disconnects. I’m panicked, panicking, and am half wishing I could fly home, half wishing I could just pretend while I’m here.
I brush my teeth and put on a little makeup. It’s not typical for me, not a lot anyway, but the shock I’m experiencing means I look pale—paler than normal—and I need the mask.
All of a sudden today feels ominous... and not in an exciting way.
Phone and ID in my back pocket and sunglasses on to block the world from my true feelings, I holler, “Heading out with Strider for some quality time.” The front door closes behind me before Strider has a chance to park.
“Let’s roll.” I point through the windshield before grabbing my seatbelt.
We’re nearly downtown, when my brother pulls into a grocery store parking lot, puts it in park, and turns to me. “Spill.”
“Not today. Tomorrow, maybe, but today is about you. Happy birthday. What do you want to do?” I’m talking faster than I should be, but I have to fill the silence. There’s too much of that in every other area of my life.
“What I want is to know what has you rattled.” He puts his big brother voice into it.
