Len jumps again, grabbing the last balloon string and then pushes her hair out of her face. She walks over to the dining table and starts tying them to a chair. “I’m thinking you should tell this one sooner rather than later. He’s a pro-athlete. Don’t those guys always want to spread their seed and create mini-mes to carry on their athletic dynasty?”
I make a face at her choice of expression. “They’re not cavemen, Len.”
She shrugs. “Maybe not but still, I would lay that out. Don’t get me wrong, I understand your logic and I agree with it. But if you want him to be an open book, you should be too.”
I just nod and turn around to find my chip bowl. Leave it to Len to make perfect sense. He said I could talk about my past so I will. I’ll tell him that there’s a hereditary component to ovarian cancer and that’s why I won’t have my own kids. I can only hope he’ll take me seriously, unlike Victor.
“He’s still coming this afternoon, right?” Len asks.
I nod and pour one of the bags of chips she bought into the bowl. “He’s with her now. She’s in his running group and they’ll come back here together.”
The doorbell rings. It’s got to be my parents because those are the only other people invited. Len rushes to the front door to let them in. They greet Len the way they always do—with giant hugs, like she’s their second daughter. And they greet me with the same affection. I don’t know what happened in that foster home when I was four, but I’m glad it did, because if it hadn’t, these two wouldn’t be my parents.
We spend the next half hour setting up and putting out the food and then, just as I’m paying the pizza delivery guy, Alex appears on the front steps. I look behind him for Mackenzie, but I don’t see her. He smiles at me. “Hey! Am I late?”
He bends down to kiss me but I don’t let his lips touch mine. “Where is she?”
He blinks. “What?”
I step onto the stoop and glance down the street. “Is she still at Daphne’s?”
“What? No.” He’s as confused as I am. “She didn’t come to running group. Was she supposed to?”
“Oh fuck.” I turn and leave him on the stoop as I run back into the house and straight for her room. It’s clean. Her bed is made, the clothes I’ve bought her are folded on the bed, her school books are stacked neatly on the desk, but her knapsack is gone and so is her coat. There’s a piece of paper torn from a notebook in the center of her desk. I walk over and read the note.
Thank you for everything. I mean it.
“Alex, she’s gone.”
I don’t let myself cry until three in the morning as Len and I walk down what feels like the millionth alley. My feet and back ache, but not nearly as deeply as my chest does. And as reality settles in, the ache grows deeper. “I’m going to have to call the cops in the morning and report her. And Laurie will have to tell the judge. Even if they find her, she won’t be allowed back with me.”
“Can’t you wait to tell them?” Len asks, and when I shake my head the first tear tumbles.
“I can’t. I have to follow the rules. I don’t want to lose my ability to foster,” I explain, although I’d rather throw my heart into a food processor than even think about doing this again. It would be less painful. I wipe at the tears and Len walks over and hugs me, smashing my face into the puffy down of her black ski jacket and she rubs my back with her mitten-covered hand.
“You should go home,” I tell her. “You can look in the morning.”
My parents stayed at my place in case Mac comes back. Len insisted on coming with me and now she’s refusing to go. “I am not leaving you out here alone. As long as you’re out here, I’m out here.”
“Thank you.” I sniff and wipe at more tears. “We’re stupid to think we’ll find her in this city.”
Len shakes her head and readjusts her wool cap. “We have to try,”
My phone rings. I have the volume set on high to ensure I don’t miss it since it’s tucked into the pocket of my wool coat. It echoes off the concrete walls. I rush to pull off my wool gloves so I can answer it and drop one on the litter-strewn ground but I don’t care. It’s Alex.
“I’ve got her.”
My whole body floods with relief and my eyes blur with tears. “Thank God. Is she okay? Where are you?”
Len starts to jump up and down in excitement. “She’s being an asshole, but she’s fine. We’re heading back to your place.”
“We’re on our way.” I hang up and grab Len’s arm. “He’s bringing her home.”
I burst through my front door ten minutes later and march through the townhouse and find them in the kitchen. She’s at the table, a plate of snacks from her now defunct party on a plate in front of her. She looks up at me, her expression cold. But her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and her nose is red. I notice a wad of used tissue on the table beside her plate. She’s been crying.
“Your parents went home but said to call them if you need them,” Alex says. I nod, my eyes still glued to Mackenzie.
“Are you okay?” I ask. It’s the first question my parents always asked me in a crisis or drama and this feels like both.
