Back in the living room, she curled up in one corner of the sofa, turning so that she could see out the window. She hugged her knees against her chest, watching as Lucas wrapped burlap around one of the shrubs near the driveway. Although he looked no different than he usually did from a distance, she was seeing him with new eyes.
Her knees pressed against her breasts, and the desire that simple sensation awakened in her took her by surprise. She had given up on the sexual part of herself. It had been so long since she’d felt any sexual attraction to a man that she’d talked herself into not wanting it, not needing it. She’d lived these last three years for Sophie. Her body had been nothing more than an instrument for taking care of her daughter.
Now, suddenly, almost guiltily, she felt life returning to that mechanical body. She imagined Lucas here on the sofa with her, the smile in his pale eyes warming her. He would kiss her, hold her. He’d lay her down along the length of the sofa and stretch out next to her, touching her gently, the way he had touched her arm. The fantasy was strong and unbidden and delicious, and it stunned her when she became conscious of it. She was not a fantasizer, not anymore. Dreams only got in the way of coping with reality.
The next day he would come to repair the pane of glass, and she would be sure to be at home when he did. She had the feeling that Lucas could make her dream. He had already given her hope.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
From where she lay on Sophie’s bed, Janine could hear Lucas’s car on the gravel driveway. As he pulled into the turnaround near the cottage, his headlights cut through the window to Sophie’s room, settling on the Winnie the Pooh lamp on the dresser. Usually, Lucas would have parked out on the street and walked in, so that her parents wouldn’t know he was there, but tonight, the rules were changing.
Setting the teddy bear aside, she tried to get up, but found she could not move. Her body was held to the bed by some invisible force. She listened to Lucas’s knock on the front door, opening her mouth to speak.
“In here,” she said, but it came out only as a whisper. He knocked again, and she heard him let himself in.
“Janine?”
“In Sophie’s room,” she said, still so softly that she knew he couldn’t hear her. But he walked through the small house, and when she heard him in the hall, she raised the volume of her voice a notch or two.
“I’m in here,” she said.
He came into the dark room and walked over to the bed. “Move over,” he said quietly, and she did. He lay down next to her, taking her in his arms. She clung to him, her breathing quick and shallow against his neck, but she didn’t cry. For now at least, she felt wrung dry.
Neither of them spoke for a good ten minutes, as he held her close and stroked her back.
“Do you still believe in miracles?” she asked him finally.
“The man-made variety. Yes.”
“We need one now,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed. “We do.”
“I feel like I’m being punished.”
“What for?”
“For enrolling her in Schaefer’s study. For sending her off on this weekend camp-out against Joe’s advice and wishes. I’ve ignored what he thinks is best for Sophie during the last couple of months, and now look what happened.”
“What happened is that Sophie was well enough to take the sort of risk every other eight-year-old girl takes on a regular basis,” he said. “Can’t you see that, Jan? Can’t you let go of the guilt long enough to see that?”
“Maybe if she’d come back today, I could have. But now…wherever she is…” Janine shuddered. “She must be so scared.”
He hugged her close, then released her, resting his hand on her belly. “I can feel your hipbones through your shorts,” he said. “When was the last time you ate?”
She tried to think. “I don’t know. Yesterday, I guess. I had lunch before I knew she was gone.” It seemed so long ago.
“And you’ve had nothing today?”
“No.”
“Come on.” He sat up. “Let’s feed you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat something.” He put his hands beneath her shoulders and pulled her into a sitting position. “Come on, Jan, seriously. Let’s go.”
She allowed him to guide her into the kitchen and onto one of the chairs at the table. Opening the cupboard nearest the window, Lucas peered inside.
She couldn’t even think about the boxes and cans of food he was looking at. “I don’t think I can—”
“How about soup?” he asked, holding a can of turkey-and-rice soup in his hand. “Are you too hot for that? It would probably be the best thing for your stomach.”
“Okay.” It was easier to give in than to fight him. She watched as he opened the can and poured its contents into a bowl. While it cooked in the microwave, he took the English muffins from the bread box, pulled one from the package, and put it in the toaster.
“So,” she said, watching him, “what have you eaten in the last day and a half?”
He smiled. “More than you,” he said. “At least I’ve had enough to sustain life.”
He placed the soup and toasted English muffin on the table in front of her, and she ate under his supervision. The soup tasted flat and flavorless; the muffin was impossible to get down, and she left it on the plate.
At ten o’clock, they undressed to their T-shirts and underwear and got into her queen-size bed to watch the news. She was anxious to see the footage of the press conference, and the disappearance of the missing Scouts and their leader was the first story mentioned.
“Two eight-year-old Vienna Girl Scouts and their leader are still missing this evening,” the male newscaster said. He was grim faced, but what did he care? He recounted stories like this one every day of the week. Janine suddenly understood what it was like to be on the other side of those news stories. To the public, the disappearance of three people was just one more tragedy; to their families, it marked the collapse of their worlds.
“They were last seen driving away from Camp Kochaben in West Virginia yesterday afternoon,” the newscaster continued. “The leader, twenty-five-year-old Alison Dunn, was driving a ’97 dark-blue Honda Accord, and was expected to arrive at Meadowlark Gardens in Vienna at three o’clock yesterday afternoon. Police report they have no leads at this time. Ms. Dunn, originally from Ohio, is scheduled to be married this Saturday. The parents of Sophie Donohue and Holly Kraft held a news conference this afternoon, pleading for the safe return of their children.”
The camera shifted from the newscaster to the footage of Janine and Joe and the Krafts, who by now had completely lost their cavalier, this-is-no-big-deal facade. The four of them looked tired and frightened. Janine held an eight-by-ten picture of Sophie, Rebecca, an even larger picture of Holly. Joe spoke first.
“If anyone has any information regarding the whereabouts of our children and Alison Dunn, we’re begging you to please contact the police,” he said.
“My…our daughter has a serious kidney disease,” Janine added.
Watching herself now, Janine winced, remembering her slip of the tongue.
“She needs medical treatment immediately,” Janine had continued. My God, she looked desperate. “Please, if someone has her, we don’t care who you are or why you did this. Just please drop the girls off at a restaurant or a gas station.”
Suddenly the camera switched to one of the police officers, someone Janine had not seen on the case until that moment. He appeared to be standing outside the police station, and he squinted from the sun.
“We don’t know at this point if we’re dealing with a kidnapping situation or what,” he said. “All we know is that we’ve got three missing people to find.”
“Is the Scout leader under suspicion?” The question was asked by someone out of camera range.
“We’re not ruling anything out right now,” the officer said, “but the Scout leader was planning her wedding for this coming weekend, so
it seems unlikely she had any premeditated intent to take the girls.”
“He’s leaving open the possibility of impulsiveness on Alison’s part,” Lucas said.
The newscaster was once again on the screen, talking about a drug bust in Washington, and Janine hit the mute button. The phone rang, and she jumped, reaching for the receiver on the nightstand so quickly that she knocked it to the floor.
“Hello?” she said, after fumbling to regain the receiver.
“Hi.” It was Joe’s voice.
“Have you heard anything?” she asked.
“No. I was just watching the news.”
“Me, too.”
“I’ve been worried about you,” he said. “I know it’s late, but can I come over? I just want to be with someone who…who’s hurting as much as I am.”
Janine looked at Lucas, who was eyeing her from the pillow. The face of the newscaster was reflected in his glasses.
“Joe,” she said. “I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Lucas is here.” She rested her hand on Lucas’s chest. “Lucas is…he’s more than a friend, Joe.”
The silence on Joe’s end of the line was unbearably long.
“You’re seeing him?” he asked finally.
“Yes.”
“And he’s there right now? This late?”
“Yes.”
He sighed, the sound like wind blowing against the phone. “I truly don’t understand you.”
“I should have been honest about it from the start,” she said. “But you and Mom and—”
“When was the start?” he interrupted her.
“November.”
“November! You’ve been seeing this guy since November? You’ve had Sophie around him?”
“Sophie likes him.”
“She’s a child,” Joe said. “She doesn’t know any better. Janine, you’ve got a good education, you’re intelligent…Why would you get involved with a gardener? And a lousy one at that. Your parents told me he doesn’t show up half the time for work. They think he has a drinking problem, that he’s hungover and can’t make it in.”
Janine could not help the laugh that escaped her mouth. “He doesn’t drink at all,” she said. Lucas’s eyebrows rose at that. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“He’s so much younger than you,” Joe said.
“Only three years, Joe.” Lucas was thirty-two.
“Do your parents know about this?”
“They will tomorrow. Lucas is flying in the helicopter with me.” She winced again, fearing she had just struck Joe below the belt.
Joe was silent a moment before speaking again. “They’re going to have a fit,” he said.
“If you talk to them tonight, please don’t say anything about it. Let it come from me.”
“It’s all yours,” he said. “I’d rather not hear what they have to say.”
Janine was quiet, imagining her parents’ reaction to this news.
“Are you sure he’s not…you know, too interested in Sophie?” Joe asked.
“I’m absolutely sure.”
“Well, look,” Joe said. “Whatever’s drawn you to him…I’d just like you to think about what I said in the car today. About us. I’m part of your family, whether you like it that way or not. Your parents think of me as their son. Your daughter is my daughter. I screwed up three years ago, I know that. But you’ve screwed up, too. And we have a daughter who loves both of us, and if…when we find her, the best present we could give her would be for you and me to get back together.”
“Joe.” She shook her head. Where was all of this coming from? “You’ve never talked about this before. Why now?”
“Because of Sophie. Because she needs us to be united. Because having her gone, spending some time with you, makes me realize what I gave up. I want my family back.”
“I’m sorry, Joe,” she said. “That’s not something I want.”
He was quiet again. “You’d rather hang out with your tree house guy?” he asked. “Only little boys play in tree houses.”
“I’m going to hang up,” she threatened.
“No, don’t. I’m sorry. Just going a little nuts here.”
She felt sorry for him. He was alone right now, trying to cope with the fact that his daughter was missing, maybe hurt, certainly afraid. “I know,” she said softly. “I know this is just as painful for you as it is for me. You can call anytime, okay? Even in the middle of the night if you’re upset and need to talk.”
“Same here,” he said. “Although I guess you have the, uh…Lucas to talk to.”
“Lucas is wonderful,” she told him, and she felt Lucas’s hand on her back, “but he’s not Sophie’s dad.”
“Thanks,” Joe said. “Let’s talk in the morning.”
She hung up the phone and lay down again. “He’s talking about us getting back together,” she said. “He mentioned it in the car today, too. He said the women he goes out with get annoyed with him because he’s still in love with me. I honestly had no idea.”
“That’s understandable,” Lucas said. “He has a funny way of showing he cares, when he and your parents spend so much of their time and energy ganging up on you.”
She rolled onto her back. “Well,” she said, “the cat’s out of the bag, now.”
“Finally,” he said, and she was grateful to him for putting up with her reluctance to go public with their relationship. She stared at the ceiling. “I’m never going to be able to fall asleep,” she said.
“Try.” He leaned over to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Let’s both try. We’re going to need all our resources tomorrow.”
She must have dozed off, because it was a dream that awakened her. In the dream, she and Sophie were at the beach, and nothing in the world was wrong. Sophie was healthy, her body nut-brown and her cheeks rosy. Her red hair, pulled back into a thick ponytail, was much longer than it really was. They were building a sand castle together and talking about eating pancakes for dinner. It was a light and airy dream, and when she woke up and realized that there was no beach, no sand castle, no Sophie, she began to cry. She turned away from Lucas, who was sleeping soundly, not wanting to disturb him, and wept into her pillow.
He knew, though. She felt his hand on her back, slowly rubbing along the length of her spine through her T-shirt. He raised his hand to the back of her neck and massaged her there, where the muscles were so tight they hurt.
“I know this is hard,” he whispered, his breath against her neck. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together, Jan.”
She rolled over to let him take her in his arms. “I’m so scared,” she admitted.
“I know.”
“And I know everyone’s starting to think that she’s dead. That they’re all dead. And maybe it seems crazy, but I have this unbelievably strong feeling that she’s alive. I feel it in here.” She took his hand and held it against her abdomen, just below her rib cage.
“It’s not crazy,” he said. He reached beneath her T-shirt to rest his hand on her bare skin. “If you felt it in your toes, or your ears, or your knees, then you might be crazy,” he said. “But as long as you feel it here, I’d trust it.”
She laughed softly. “Don’t tease,” she said.
“I’m not teasing, sweetheart.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “I love you.”
His hand moved to her breast, his touch undemanding and gentle, and when he reached lower to slip his fingers beneath her underpants, she opened her legs to him. Never would she have guessed that she’d be making love tonight, but this was lovemaking borne of need rather than desire. It was soothing rather than passionate, with solace, rather than pleasure, as its goal. And afterward, she buried herself in his arms, and stayed nestled tightly in his embrace until morning.
They were both up before the sun. In the kitchen, Lucas made coffee while Janine called the police station, begging for news that didn’t exist. Both of them spun around at the sound of
her father barging into the living room, and Janine knew that he had seen Lucas’s car in the driveway.
“What’s going on?” Frank asked, as she quickly hung up the phone. “What is he doing here? Are you all right, Janine?”
“I’m fine, Dad. And Lucas is here because he’s a friend.”
Her father didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He looked even more awkward than he usually did, and she felt sorry for him.
“He was here all night?” he asked finally.
“Yes.”
“Janine needed someone with her last night,” Lucas said. He had his coffee cup in his hand, and he rested it on the counter as if expecting to have to defend himself physically at any moment.
“Oh, she did, did she?” her father bellowed. “She could have had Joe here, or her mother or myself.”
Janine took Lucas’s hand in hers. “We’ve been seeing each other for quite a while, Dad. I didn’t want you and Mom to know because—”
“You’ve what? I don’t believe this,” her father said. “Janine, have you completely lost your mind?” He pointed a finger at Lucas. “You! Get out of here and get to work.”
“I’m taking today off,” Lucas said.
Her father let out an ugly, snorting laugh that was so out of character for him, it made Janine cringe. “You make it sound as though that’s an unusual occurrence,” he said. “You take off any damn time you feel like it. Why should today be any different?”
“As long as my work gets done, I don’t see the problem,” Lucas said.
“This is the final straw.” Her father’s cheeks were that ruddy color he got on those rare occasions when fury replaced his usual stoic anger. “I’m speaking to the Foundation today and getting you fired.”
“On what grounds, Daddy?” Janine asked. “That he befriended your thirty-five-year-old daughter?”