She's Not There

“Try mine,” Caroline said. She’d gotten a new one before dinner.

He did, and it worked. “Stupid thing,” Hunter muttered, throwing the keycard down on the coffee table as they entered the living room, then flopping down on the sofa.

“Maybe you had it too close to your cell phone.”

“Maybe. Come sit with me,” he said.

“I’ll just check on the kids.”

“The kids can wait two minutes.”

Caroline walked over to the sofa and sank down beside her husband. He quickly surrounded her with his arms and kissed her neck, his breath warm and carrying the trace of at least one drink too many. The drapes were open and the reflection of the light from the outside lanterns danced on the walls, mixing with the soft glow of the moon. “So, did you enjoy your anniversary after all?”

“I did.”

“Liar,” he chided.

“No. It was lovely. It was.”

“You hardly touched your dinner.”

“I wasn’t that hungry.”

“You were worried about the kids.”

“I got over it.”

He kissed her neck again. “Did you enjoy your serenade?”

“Very much.”

“Were you surprised?”

“I was. I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”

“I can’t take all the credit. It was actually Steve’s idea.”

“Really? Too bad he can’t come up with any good ideas where Becky is concerned.” Caroline’s hand moved to the front of her husband’s pants. “And speaking of coming up…”

Hunter stilled her hand. “I’m really sorry, babe. I think I may have overdone it with the celebratory toasts.”

“Oh, dear.” Caroline tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She’d been looking forward all day to making love to her husband, had been fantasizing about prolonged foreplay, maybe even trying something new. “Maybe there’s something I can do about that.”

Hunter moved her hand away from his groin. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the effort but I’m afraid you’d just be wasting your time.”

“We could try, see what happens.”

“Please don’t make me feel worse about this than I already do,” he said, effectively ending the conversation.

Caroline withdrew her hand, sat up straight.

“Now you’re angry.”

“Just disappointed.”

“We can do it in the morning.”

Sure, Caroline thought. When the kids are up and we’re hurrying to pack and check out.

“And tomorrow night.”

When you’re exhausted from driving and the kids are cranky and we’re unpacking and you’re preoccupied with getting back to work.

“And every night after that for the rest of our lives,” Hunter said, giving her his best little-boy smile. “Please, Caroline. I’m really sorry.”

“I know. Me, too.” She pushed herself off the couch. “I’ll go check on the kids.” Once again she found herself in the doorway of the girls’ bedroom, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. So much for romance, she thought, moving toward Michelle’s bed and stepping on something hard.

Wonder Woman, she realized, picking the doll up off the floor and returning her to the pillow beside Michelle’s head. The child immediately swatted the doll away with her hand, although she didn’t wake up. Another rejection, Caroline thought, crossing over to Samantha’s crib.

When she didn’t see her immediately, Caroline assumed that the toddler had merely shifted positions, that she’d somehow turned herself around in her sleep, as she often did, her head now at the opposite end of the crib, her feet where her head should be.

Except her feet weren’t there either.

Caroline leaned in closer, her eyes trying to pierce the darkness, her fingers grasping at the covers, finding nothing but an empty quilt.

Samantha wasn’t there.

No, this can’t be, Caroline thought, panic filling her lungs. It’s impossible. It can’t be.

She moved quickly to the light switch and flipped on the overhead light, then raced back to the crib.

It was empty.

“Samantha?” she called out, wondering if her daughter had somehow managed to climb out of the crib. She fell to her knees, checking under it in case Samantha was lying unconscious on the floor.

She wasn’t there.

“Samantha!”

“Mommy?” Michelle sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes as Caroline began spinning around in helpless circles.

“Samantha!” Caroline called again, hysteria clinging to the name, as she raced through the living room into the master bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Hunter asked, emerging from the en suite bathroom.

“She’s not there! She’s not there!”

“Mommy?” Michelle cried, coming up behind her.

It was then that Caroline’s rising panic broke loose, exploding violently into the air and filling the suite with screams.





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