Page 63 of Silver Player

Break-ins and broken gratitude

[Roxanne]

There’d been another break-in down the street from BookEnds.

“I swear it wasn’t me,” Sadie tells me as her breaths came ragged, and her face is pink and sweaty.

“Then where have you been?” I scold, as Sadie hadn’t been in the apartment when I came up the stairs. I’d never had reason to doubt her, but I’d also assumed she remained home when I took the closing shift for the shop. From her attire, a black fleece and leggings plus running shoes, it’s apparent she hasn’t been home, but she did not tell me she was going anywhere.

“I went…out. For a run.” Her hesitation adds to my suspicion, and I don’t like that I’m suspicious. Sheriff Barne wanted to interview Sadie earlier in the evening, and I intervened, saying she was upstairs doing her homework.

“You certain of that?” June interrogated me.

“I have no reason to doubt Sadie,” I said, but I level a glare at my niece now that I know something. I put myself on the line for her, and she better come clean if she did something she shouldn’t have done.

When I call Billy to tell him about what happened, I express my concerns. “Do you think this is a cry for help? Is she trying to get my attention?”

“There’s no one more attentive to her than you,” he teases, but I’m not certain it was me she sought attention from.

“I don’t like this feeling of doubting her. She’s always been a good kid. I want to think this is just some phase. There’s so much happening all at once for her, and then with Thanksgiving…” My voice drifts.

“What about Thanksgiving?” he asks.

“I just don’t know if it’s such a good idea to introduce her then. The holiday will be difficult. It’s the first one without her mom.”

“And what she needs most is family to surround her,” he argues. Yes, but family she doesn’t know and knew nothing of her? Plus, I’m her family.

“Look, I’ve gotta go. We just got a shipment. Stop worrying. Leave that to me.” He chuckles before saying goodbye.

That was on Monday. Today is the holiday, and Sadie woke up telling me she wasn’t feeling well.

“I have my period and a headache,” she says, her voice groggy from sleep. I understood her discomfort, but I worry it’s an excuse to back out of the big reveal. I make her call Billy and explain herself, stressing over the dichotomy of wanting to protect her and allowing her to handle things on her own. I’d already given her another lecture about trust: how I wanted to trust her until she proved me wrong. It was the kind of statement I imagined Theresa saying to Sadie, but it’d didn’t feel right coming from me.

I didn’t have anything in preparation for a feast. Thanksgiving was typically a casual affair with my sister, my niece, and me. We’d make a big breakfast, watch the parade on television, and then play board games. It was a rare day my sister let her hair down and revealed a spark of who she used to be. She’d laugh. She’d cheat at the games. She’d tease. My heart pinches with my own memories of Theresa in the past few years, and I’m melancholy. I can only imagine how Sadie feels, so when she says she’s going to take a nap, I search for an open grocery store, and then an open restaurant with delivery service. When I don’t find either in Blue Ridge, I resort to a journey down to Elton at the base of the mountain and return prepared to start a new tradition.

“Sadie,” I call out, keeping my tone cheerful despite my internal mood. “Come help me make dinner.”

I’ve bought a small turkey, potatoes, boxed stuffing mix, and fresh corn. When Sadie, doesn’t come to the kitchen, I listen for the shower, which I don’t hear running and then stand outside her bedroom door.

“Sadie,” I whisper, pressing open the barrier she keeps closed, and my heart begins to race before her room is fully exposed. The bed is made, the shades are drawn, and Sadie is gone.

When I reach the one-hour mark, I can hardly breathe from the panic inside my chest. My ribs are crushing my insides, and I can’t take a deep breath. I call Billy repeatedly, but there’s no answer. I send him texts in hopes Sadie went to the Harrington’s after all. Maybe she felt better. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she wanted to go without me.

When Billy doesn’t respond after another hour, I call Grace.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your holiday, but I can’t find Sadie.” The words bring a rush of tears, and through sobbing breaths, I try to explain how Sadie didn’t feel well, and we cancelled going to the Harrington’s.

“You should have come here,” Grace sweetly admonishes. “Neither of you should be alone.” Grace understands grief, and it becomes clear I’m not processing the day well myself.

“But what do I do?” I cry. “I don’t know anyone she’d be friends with. She never mentions kids from school other than the issues she’s having. I hate to call Hetty as she’s upset about the break-in and I think she questions Sadie’s involvement.”

“What about Billy?”

“I’ve tried, but there’s no answer.”

“Are you alone?” Grace asks with concern. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I don’t want to leave in case she returns. She told me she runs sometimes at night, but it’s the middle of the day, and it’s been two hours. I just don’t know what to think.”