Page 63 of Dreaming Without Heartache

“But I was hoping we could get lunch,” Steven says, crouching beside her. “Maybe do a puzzle too.”

I squat down in front of her. “Now that sounds more fun than going to the office with me, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” she mumbles, still pouting.

Steven scoops her up, spinning her around until she giggles. “Lunch it is!”

I grab my keys and rush out the door, my pulse hammering. Where the hell do I go first?

* * *

Hours have passed and there is still no sign of Kara. She hasn’t gone back to Judy’s, nor has she gone home. I started at Annie and Bill’s gravesite. Nothing. Sam and Olivia have checked in with their school friends and every hangout they could think of. I’ve been to the mall and a few other places Olivia suggested. We’ve covered as much ground as possible in such a short time. Judy still has Kara’s phone so tracking her isn’t possible. The thought of her out there alone, without a way to call for help, gnaws at me.

My phone rings. “Hey, Sam,” I answer, sitting in my car, trying to figure out where to go next.

“Hey,” she says softly. Hearing her voice steadies me. “Olivia wants us to check the football field and the skate park. Drew hangs out there, apparently.”

“That’s a good idea. Thank you.”

“I was also thinking,” Sam adds, “have you checked the house we’ve been working on? Maybe she went there. It’s vacant and familiar.”

I buckle in and start the car. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’ve got a lot on your mind,” she says gently. “You’re doing your best.”

I sigh as I pull out into traffic. “I wish I could do more.”

“Allie?” Olivia’s voice surprises me through the speaker.

“Yeah, honey?”

“I think you’re doing a great job,” she says shyly. “Kara’s been having a hard time and is not really herself. But before her parents died, she always talked about how cool you were and how much she wanted to be like you when she was older. She loves you.”

The words hit hard. My chest tightens. I wish more than anything that she had just opened up to me. I need to find her. “Thank you, Olivia. That means a lot. You’re a sweet girl. I know how much Kara values your friendship.”

“You’re welcome,” she says.

“I’m almost at the house,” I tell them. “Keep me updated if you find anything.”

“Same to you,” Sam replies.

I end the call as I pull into the driveway of the A-frame. The place looks hollow, like it’s holding its breath. I open the front door slowly, not wanting to startle Kara if she’s inside. I pray she is. Room by room, I begin my search. I even check the closets. When I step outside to check around the house, I already know she’s not here. My heart sinks with the terrible feeling that I’ve let my family down. How did it get to this point? What could I have done differently? A thousand ideas rush in, each one useless now. None of it matters if I can’t find her.

I text Sam. She’s not here.

The words feel like defeat. I get back in the car and start driving. Then, like a spark in the dark, it hits me. The one place I should have checked first.

When I finally get to Memorial Park, the sun is lowering, painting the sky in amber and rose. The October light can make everything look nostalgic, even grief. The trees are on fire with color, leaves crunching underfoot as I start down the path along the pond.

The park is alive with life this evening. Dogs are tugging at leashes, couples relax on blankets cuddled up in conversation, as other people stroll through laughing and chatting in their privacy. I continue along the path with ducks resting on the pond. As I pass more people, the scene tugs at my memory of Annie’s surprise birthday picnic that Bill once orchestrated with family and friends. I still see her laughter when she realized it was all for her. One of the reasons I chose this park for the trees and bench.

As I’m walking, my first thought is that if she’s here, I’m going to yell at her for scaring everyone. For putting us through the torment of wondering if she’s okay. For being irresponsible. But then I turn the corner of the path to see her sitting on the bench between her parents’ trees, as if in an embrace by them. Relief floods me so fast that it nearly knocks me over. My anger fades into nothing. I walk over quietly and sit beside her.

“I’m so mad at you,” I start, but my voice breaks, betraying everything underneath. She doesn’t look up, but I know she saw me coming. “I love you, Kara. More than you’ll ever understand. I’m so glad you’re okay. You scared me, Gigi, and everyone who cares about you. Why would you do that?”

“I don’t want to live with Gigi,” she says, her voice cracking. “I miss home. I miss Maisie.” Tears form in her eyes. “I want Mom and Dad. I want them back so badly.” The sobs rock her body.

I reach for her and draw her into my arms. She doesn’t resist. Her head falls against my chest. I hold her as tightly as I can. Her grief becomes mine. The sound of her crying shatters me, bringing tears to my eyes. There isn’t a thing I can do to take the pain away. All I can do is hold her.