—
MY FLIGHT LANDS at La Guardia just after 10:00 P.M. I power on my phone as soon as we hit the runway, checking my texts, praying for good news on the Rabby front. Nothing, I discover. No word at all from Atlanta, other than a text from Ellen wishing me a good trip and telling me to call her if I have any questions about her apartment. I thank her, then send Josie and Nolan a joint text asking about Rabby. Still MIA? How’s Harper?
Thirty minutes later, after I’ve retrieved my suitcase and joined a blessedly short cab line just outside of baggage claim, I have yet to receive a response from either of them. I assume the worst, but tell myself that there is nothing I can do. So I put my phone in my tote bag, close my eyes, and inhale the glorious scent of Queens—a mix of exhaust and garbage and falafels.
Suddenly, I’m overcome with exhaustion, and all I want to do is sleep. I remind myself that I can do just that. I can sleep all day tomorrow. I can sleep for the next week. For the first time since Harper’s birth, I have absolutely no responsibilities, at least not in an hour-to-hour sense. Yet, as I get into my cab and give my driver Ellen’s address on East Tenth Street, I realize it’s not as simple as sleep or freedom, and as the billboards and buildings whiz by me, I feel about as lost as poor Rabby, wherever he may be.
chapter twenty-three
JOSIE
Meredith calls my cell the following morning while I’m still curled up with Harper in her twin bed.
“Did you find Rabby?” she demands before even saying hello.
“No,” I whisper, rolling over toward the wall and keeping my voice low, though Harper could sleep through an air raid. “Not yet.”
“Shhit,” Meredith sighs. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine. Still asleep. I’m here with her now….”
“In her bed?”
“Yes.”
“Did she kick you all night?”
I laugh and say it wasn’t too bad.
“Where’s Nolan?”
“I don’t know….I haven’t gotten up yet.”
There is a long pause before she says, “I texted you both last night. Did you not get the message?”
“Harper and I went to bed early,” I say. “Nolan went out.”
“Oh,” she says, sounding surprised. “Where’d he go?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask….” I hesitate, then ask as gently as I can, “Is everything okay with you and Nolan?”
“Yes,” she says. “We’re fine.”
Her terse retort, combined with Nolan’s rare moodiness last night, only adds to my suspicion that some sort of trouble is brewing. But I know how private and guarded Meredith is about her marriage—and that it’s pointless to press her on something she doesn’t want to talk about. So I change the subject. “I bet Rabby’ll show up today. But just in case…I did go ahead and order another one.”
“Another Rabby?” she asks.
I tell her yes, that I recalled the Jellycat tag, and after a quick Google image search, located the same beige bunny on Nordstrom’s website. “I’m having it overnighted,” I say.
“But she’ll totally know the difference,” Meredith says. “Remember how Mom tried to replace Bongo?”
I smile, thinking of the completely random name I gave our blue-and-yellow betta fish. “Yeah. That didn’t fly.”
“It sure didn’t,” she says. “And Harper’s savvier than we were….”
“I know,” I say. “But I figured it was worth a try. I was thinking I could let Revis play with it for a few days…roll it in the mud…throw it in the dryer on a high setting….”
“She’d still know,” Meredith says with a sigh.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right,” I say, wishing she’d at least give me a little credit for the idea and effort. For the fact that I’m here in bed with her daughter. “So what are you up to today?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she says. “What about you?”
I tell her I’m not sure, either, but that I planned to spend it with Harper. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Of course it’s okay,” she says, her voice softening a little. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say. “And, Mere?”
“Yeah?”
I hesitate, searching for the right words. “Please let me know if you want to talk…about anything.”
“Thank you,” she says again. “I really appreciate that, Josie.”
—
LATER THAT DAY, after Harper has broken down over Rabby about three times (fortunately never on the phone with Meredith), Nolan walks in the family room, where I’m folding laundry, and asks how I’d feel about visiting Daniel.
“You mean at the cemetery?”
It’s a stupid question—where else would we visit Daniel?—but Nolan is gentle with his response. “Yes….I was going to take Harper….I’d love for you to come, too. Will you, please?”
I look at him, so surprised by the directness of his request that I find myself reluctantly nodding. “Okay,” I say, my heart filling with dread.