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“I think it’s best if we do this on our own. Let’s make a list of places and split them up. You can drive me to a rental car place.”
“I’d rather not. I didn’t call you to do this on your own.” He rubbed his palms across his knees.
I threw my hands in the air. “Well, that’s how it goes. I didn’t come down here to make you feel better about what’s happened since your divorce. I didn’t fly here to help you get to know Garrett better or teach you how to be a better dad. I came here to find my brother. That’s it. I want to know Garrett is safe. He is my focus. Not you, Dad. Not this time. We should split up the search.”
“Then I guess we need to get you a car.” He stood and walked toward the door, closing it behind him. I heard his footsteps on the outside staircase.
My heart was in my stomach. I couldn’t believe I had said all of that. That I had thrown more pain in his face when he was searching for his son. Everything was locked and twisted together. One part couldn’t be fixed without rummaging through all the wreckage. And right now none of us had time or energy to start at the beginning. The first scrap had to wait until Garrett was found.
That night I slept in my old bedroom. I had gone to all the bars at the beach. The ones that were still open in the off-season. I had checked surfing spots. I stopped at artist studios, parks, and the movie theater. I asked strangers if they had seen Garrett, showing them a picture I had of him on my phone. I messaged his friends on Facebook. I called people we used to hang out with in high school. No one had heard from him. Not even Kelly.
And as sick as it felt, I was disappointed when she said she hadn’t talked to him. As bad as it would have been for him to be in touch with her, I would have chosen that over this. Over not knowing where in the hell he was. If he was safe. If he was alive.
I kept my agreement with my father. I checked in with him every hour until I pulled into the driveway. He said he was going to stay out and keep looking.
My mom didn’t bother to knock before walking into my room.
“Has anyone called?” she asked.
“No.” I had plugged my phone in next to the bed. I was down to ten percent of my battery.
I looked at her. Her hair was pulled back in a clip. She wore the pearl earrings my father had helped Garrett and me buy for her fortieth birthday. I remember picking them out. The three of us were excited to surprise her with something so expensive and extra
vagant.
But now they seemed dull and faded. Maybe because she rubbed them often out of nervousness. She touched her finger to one now.
“I can try the police again. See if anything has come up.”
“Mom, don’t do that. They don’t want us to keep calling.”
“Someone has to do something. Someone has to convince them Garrett needs help.”
He did need help, but not police intervention. He needed people to keep him accountable. A mother and father who were a team. A woman in his life who saw what an amazing creative person he was. A sister he could count on.
“We’re doing it, Mom. We are doing everything we can. Garrett doesn’t want us to find him.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because he hasn’t called.”
She chewed the side of her fingernail. “You think that’s a good sign?”
“I don’t really know what to think, other than we need to know he’s ok.”
“He has to be ok. He has to be.”
I looked at the creases around her eyes. The lines around her mouth. The brushes of smudged mascara.
“What if I make tea or a pot of decaf?” I suggested. She wasn’t going to sleep, and as I fatigued as I was I wasn’t going to fall asleep any time soon. “We could see if there is an old movie on.”
She nodded. “Ok. Tea?”
“Come on.” I put an arm around her and led her to the kitchen.
Sometime during Casablanca, we both fell asleep in the living room. I was curled up in the recliner and my mom stretched out on the couch.
I awoke with a pain in the side of my neck that spread to my shoulder. I rubbed it while I stretched my arm toward the ceiling. In the fog of my mind, I knew I had dreamed about Vaughn. His smile tugged at a memory I couldn’t quite pull into focus. I blinked trying to catch the remnants of it. I missed him.
