I guess that’s weird advice, considering I’ve been with Tati, like, forever, and when we first got together I had no clue who I was, other than your mommy. And then you were gone.
You know, I’ve no idea why I’m doing this anymore, other than to prove to myself I still believe we’ll find each other one day. It’s hard, baby. So hard. But I can’t forget you. Refuse to give up all hope. Instead, I’ll close my eyes and toss a birthday wish to the universe.
November 16, 2016
Oh my God. Did my wish come true? On slow news days, one of our producers pores over stories from the wire, Internet posts and articles from Northern California newspapers that might make good fillers. Today Randy handed me a copy of the Union Democrat, a paper in Sonora, which is not so very far from here. He pointed out a story about Charles Grantham’s daughter falling from her horse. Two teens had come to her rescue. I might not have thought twice about Ariel Pearson, except I recognized the man standing behind her.
He was identified as Ariel’s father, Mark Pearson. But even fifteen years couldn’t age Jason Baxter’s face enough to disguise it completely. I took another look at the tall, ginger-haired girl. It’s possible I’m wrong, but I don’t think so.
Ariel Pearson is you, Casey. I can hardly breathe! But now what do I do?
December 2016
Oh, to be given the gifts of the chameleon! Not only the ability to match the appropriate facade to circumstance at will, but also the capacity to look in two directions simultaneously. How much gentler our time on this planet would be.
I’ve spent almost half my life staring back over my shoulder at years I can’t regain. Years filled with regret for situations not in my power to change, vital things lost forever now. Years shadowed by anger at someone not worthy of even that emotion. Years emptied of you, dearest Casey.
That’s not to say they were empty. My best friend, lover, partner, and now wife coaxed me forward, one day draining into the next. She never let me despair completely, despite so many glimmers of hope snuffed out and promises shattered into lies.
It was Tati who stood me up when I fell on my knees, begging a God I didn’t believe in for your safe return. Tati who reminded me no force of Good was responsible for your disappearance; it was an instrument of Evil. Tati who urged me to keep going when I was certain I couldn’t take another step without you.
But I had to trudge on, didn’t I? Had to forge ahead, to have any chance at all of holding you again. How I’ve dreamed of that reunion, over and over again.
Just recently I found a shaky belief in luck.
Today, for the first time in a very long time, I dare to project myself into a future no longer devoid of you. All I want—all I’ve ever wanted—is to find you, my darling daughter, and to share my tomorrows with you.
It was totally random happenstance that led me to know your whereabouts. Ironically, you’re not very far from me, and neither is your father. I’ll have to play my cards carefully, but play them I will. I’m making plans to get you back into my life just as soon as I can.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
My personal experiences often inspire characters or story threads, and once in a while they are the driving forces behind one of my books. This is one of those books. When my youngest daughter was three years old, her father (my ex) picked her up from daycare and, in defiance of my custody orders, took her out of state. I lost her for three years.
During that time, he moved around the country. This was pre-cell-phone days, and I’d receive collect calls from time to time, always with the promise that I could talk to her, but really he just wanted to taunt me. The calls came from New York, Hawaii, Virginia, wherever. When he decided she should start school, he settled back in his hometown, and at that point one of his relatives called to let me know where she was. Even after I found her, it took months to get law enforcement help and finally a judge in California told me to “kidnap her back,” because as soon as we left the county he lived in, there wouldn’t be a problem.
Under threat of “getting our heads blown off if we showed up,” and with the aid of my ex’s grandmother, my husband and I flew back, picked her up from school, and were across the county line before my ex could carry out his threat. He did, many years later, tell my daughter he wished he had killed me when he had the chance.
There’s a lot more to that story, and I’ll write it extensively one day, but those years without my daughter remain frozen in my mind. That one parent could take a child away from the other parent, all in the name of revenge, is unbelievably cruel. But according to missingkids.org, more than 200,000 children per year are victims of family abduction. Here are some statistics.
? Of the 203,900 children who were victims of family abduction in one year, 53% were taken by their fathers, 25% by their mothers, and the rest by other relatives, including stepparents and grandparents.