“We don’t mind. I have some clothes you can borrow. We can . . . let’s put these in the laundry room.”
“You can throw them away,” Natalie said. “I don’t even want to see them again.”
“Sure. Do you know where the bathroom is? You were here once before. At least.”
“Only once,” Jared said, his voice defensive.
“You can show her to the bathroom, then. Show her the towels and all that. I’ll find some clothes for her to wear.”
Jenna went to her bedroom and fumbled through her drawers in a haze. She tried to imagine the trail of craziness that had brought that girl to their door. She had nowhere else in the world to go, no one else she trusted or cared about. She looked so young, scared, and alone. Such a young age to be so adrift.
Jenna carried a small stack of things back to the bathroom door. She had sweatpants, yoga pants, a couple of Tshirts, and a sweatshirt. Jenna knocked lightly on the door and handed them through the narrow opening. “Take your time, honey.”
Natalie thanked her. Once the door was closed and locked, the water started running.
Jenna nodded to Jared and they walked out to the living room together.
“Do you know what happened?” Jenna asked.
“Not really. She got away from her dad and came back here. She was looking for me. I don’t think she trusted anyone else, not even the police.”
“I don’t doubt that. But we are going to have to call them.”
“Mom, no way. You can see what kind of shape she’s in. It’s like she’s shell-shocked or whatever. You know, PTSD. You can’t have the cops come and question her.”
“She’s part of an investigation,” Jenna said. “If we don’t call, we get in trouble.”
“Is that all you care about?”
“I’ll ignore that remark. You know better than that.” She went out to the kitchen and started pulling food out of the refrigerator. She could make grilled cheese or soup. Maybe heat up a leftover chicken breast and potatoes. She put the kettle on for tea or hot chocolate. Or both. Whatever the girl wanted. She felt Jared behind her, watching her movements in the kitchen. She waited for him to speak.
“Mom?”
“Yeah.”
“Can we just take it slow? Let her get cleaned up. Let her eat.”
And let her tell the story. Jenna wanted to hear it as much as Jared. Maybe more.
“Okay,” Jenna said. “I’ll be patient. For a short time.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
When Jared saw Natalie enter the kitchen—her hair and face clean, a shy smile on her face—he felt the electric desire rising inside his body again. She looked so beautiful, so fresh and perfect, like a vision, even though she wore just an old sweatshirt of his mom’s, one that advertised a clothing store in the mall nobody went to anymore.
Natalie placed her hand on his shoulder as she passed by, and then she trailed down his arm and squeezed his hand. Her skin felt warm, and he didn’t even mind sharing the moment of affection in front of his mother.
His mom pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and handed Natalie a plate of food. Chicken, potatoes, a cup of hot tea. Natalie thanked her, and then they all ate together. There wasn’t much conversation. Natalie ate quickly, and between almost every mouthful she stopped to thank his mom for her hospitality. His mom brushed it off, saying it was no big deal and she was just happy to see Natalie okay.
Jared had to admit, as he watched the two of them interact, that his mom really could handle herself in a crisis. She knew just the right things to say and the right things to do when someone needed help. She might push too hard sometimes and overstep her bounds, but he was thrilled to have her here taking care of Natalie.
Natalie ate two plates of food. When they were finished, Jared cleared the table and his mom sat at her place, her eyes fixed on Natalie. Jared knew what was coming. They all did. He knew they were all so quiet during the meal because they still needed to have the larger conversation, and everyone—especially Natalie—was saving up their energy for it.
His mom didn’t hesitate. “Natalie, honey, we need to get in touch with the police. Everybody’s been looking for you.”
Jared finished what he was doing at the sink and came back to the table. Natalie sat between them, her eyes staring at the tabletop, her hands tucked into her lap. Jared wanted to reach out and take one of them, and so he did, lifting her hand in his. She looked over at him and smiled, their fingers intertwining.
“I’m afraid,” Natalie said. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“What do you mean?” Jared asked. “You can stay here as long as you want. Right, Mom?”