“It’s fine,” she says, then changes the subject as she sees Chloe get up and start to come their way.
“Hey, by the way, Drew says you told him he could take off for the day. Why didn’t you ask me first?” Sasha asks, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
“I haven’t even seen him today. He didn’t ask me about it,” he says, pouring his coffee into a to-go mug and pulling on a coat.
She sighs. Drew is now just outright lying even though he knows she’ll find out, because of course she’d talk to Tom and figure it out. Super. She can’t think about his odd behavior and how it’s escalating. Not right now, even though the embers of anxiety are beginning to smolder inside her and she knows something is very off with her son.
By late morning, she’s worked herself into a state over Drew and the school meeting and the gloom that seems to follow her around since they moved here. She wonders if it was a mistake. Still, she goes through the motions and heads to the school to join the other worried parents so they can all fan the flames of the panic together.
The rain taps at the windshield on her drive down the curvy, tree-lined streets to the school. Soggy red leaves drop from the stunning, towering maples and get caught in her wipers, and the gloom settles into her bones. When she pulls up, she takes her Starbucks from the cupholder and joins the other moms, standing in a circle at the base of the school stairs. It’s a familiar sight—all messy buns, yoga pants and puffer coats. Everyone is attempting to look like they aren’t trying, but the full makeup and immaculately covered roots give them away.
Rebecca Elsher has set up a table with apple cider donuts and hot chocolate for the kids, calling them “sweetheart” and “poor thing” as they come up for the goodies, as if they’ve been the victims of some enormous offense, even though none of them knows about the threat. As far as the kids know, it’s just a school meeting and they get to play outside with their friends and eat donuts for an hour.
Some of the parents brought their kids because of the last-minute nature of the meeting, and Rebecca seems to be enjoying her Mother Goose role a bit too much for the type ofoccasion, but the moms only side-eye her instead of saying anything—they are here for more important reasons and to call her out would appear petty. They have nothing if not a healthy sense of decorum, after all.
“They need to shut the school down until they get to the bottom of it,” Melissa Winterman says, and others nod in agreement. Sasha goes and stands next to Regan, who’s looking over at her daughter, Hallie, eating donuts with a couple of girls by the side fence.
“Morning,” Sasha says, startling Regan into noticing her.
“Shit, is that a pumpkin spice latte?” Regan asks, looking sideways at Sasha’s Starbucks cup to read the barista’s scrawl.
“With whipped cream,” Sasha adds.
“I was too busy calling all the moms this morning to ingest caffeine. Hot chocolate isn’t doing it. Rebecca burned the chocolate, to boot. Tastes like a campfire.”
“Here.” Sasha hands her the cup and Regan takes a couple swigs.
“Bless you.”
“Where’s Andi?” Sasha asks, looking around.
“Left her a voice mail, I don’t know.” Regan glances over at Morgan Dyer, who’s clapping her hands in the air and yelling, “Okay, inside, everyone. We’re starting.” Sasha sees Regan roll her eyes.
“I guess Morgan’s in charge now,” she quips, giving a little mock salute.
Sasha smirks. She became fast friends with Andi and Regan when she moved in at the beginning of the summer and Sasha brought cupcakes when it was her turn to be “snack mom” at Little League practice. The newsletter clearly stated it was healthy snack week and she was to bring only approveditems from a list that was provided. When she did not show up with Cuties oranges or Fruit Roll-Ups, some of the moms lost their minds, but Regan and Andi stepped in. They understood what it was like to be outsiders in this town, too, it turned out—since Regan’s husband’s death and Andi’s very public divorce. Now the three women are inseparable.
As folks start moving up the school stairs, Regan calls to Hallie to mind Miss Elsher until they’re back, but before Sasha can hoist her tote over her shoulder and go in, a Range Rover pulls into the lot and the screeching brakes make her and Regan turn.
It’s Ray Davila, Andi’s ex-husband, and she can see that Dez is sitting in the back seat. Ray leaves the car running and gestures to Dez that he’ll be right back. He walks swiftly over to where Sasha and Regan stand, staring at him.
“Oh, hey,” Regan starts. “Hallie was just asking about Dez. She has his baseball glove from—”
Ray cuts her off. “We’re not staying. I... Listen. Have either of you seen Tia?”
“Uh, Tia? No,” Sasha says, wondering why she’d be here since she doesn’t have kids in elementary school. “Is something wrong?” Sasha asks, noticing the swelling and redness around Ray’s eyes and the panic in his voice, which he’s deliberately trying to keep calm.
“I’m...” He glances at the car and then back to Sasha. “I haven’t told the kids. Roxie’s out and Dez thinks we’re running errands, so I can’t alarm them just yet, but she’s just... gone. I mean, she’s... I guess, missing.”
“Oh, Ray. Oh, my God, what do you mean?” Regan says, touching him on his arm.
“Last night she said she was going for a run after dinner,so me and the kids went to see an eight o’clock movie. She said...” His voice breaks. “She said to go without her. When we got home at eleven, she wasn’t there. I spent an hour calling everyone she knows, but nothing. God, I...”
“Jesus,” Regan says. “Did you call the police?”
“Yes. I made a report around midnight, but I can’t just—I’m just trying to drive around and look. I need Andi to take the kids, but I can’t reach her.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sasha says. “I’m sure there’s an explanation,” she adds, because it’s the sort of thing you’re supposed to say and she’s at a complete loss.
