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Mom and I spend a lot of the drive stealing glances at each other. And a lot of time is spent trying to convince her I’m okay. I’m not hurt, I haven’t been locked up in a kidnapper’s basement for twenty years. Well, not the basement. They must have so many questions; I have just as many, so I doubt I can give them enough answers.
I explain what hotel I’m staying at, and she invites me to stay with them instead and tells me I’m welcome to use one of the bedrooms to rest in if I find myself needing a break. I want to finish meeting everyone and get a read on the situation before I commit to anything and cancel my reservation. At some point I’ll have to go back, all my things are still in the room. For now, I want to get to know the family I’ve spent decades away from. I appreciate her being so cognizant of the time it might take me to process everything. It’s a lot.
We pull into the long driveway, and now that we pass through the pine trees, I get a clear view of the house for the first time sincebefore—it’s huge. It seemed massive when I was a child, but even as an adult, it still looks impressive. Now that I see the outside, I can remember the inside layout. And all the trees are so much taller than they were the last time I was here... Getting out of the car, I keep my jacket held tightly against my chest.
My dad bursts through the front door as fast an older man can. He moves a lot slower now. They’re so much older, and the time I’ve lost makes me feel sick. “Oh, Bridget.”
Bridget. It’s been forever since I’ve heard my real name.
He coughs, trying to cut off a cry. “I can’t believe this. How? Are you hurt?” I chuckle at the constant barrage about my condition. He’s engulfed me in the best dad-style bear hug. He still uses the same aftershave.
“Hi, Dad.” I lean into him and let him hold me... My dad. I never thought I would have a dad again.
“I-I didn’t believe her.” His voice shakes trying to stay strong, but it only makes me squeeze out more tears. Mom strides around the car and rubs his back as he hugs me.
“Oh, Bridget, honey.” The old man wipes his face. “I love you so much. We love you so much. We have missed you so much. Where did you come from?”
“Vancouver!” my mom answers. She’s riding a high.
“How the hell did you make it all the way to Vancouver? Are you okay? Bridget... were you? Did someone hurt you?”
“No, I swear, I’m fine. Really.”
“She’s had a long trip, Ken. Let’s get inside.”
My jaw drops slightly when we walk through the extra-wide door, but I do my best to hide my surprise. Growing up in a tiny apartment makes this place look like a palace, probably due to the high-vaulted wood ceilings above. It has that smell of home, the one you can only smell after you’ve been gone a long time on vacation, or living in Vancouver with a sociopath for three-quarters of your life. Either way, it’s a significant upgrade from the previous one my “home” used to be. The door closes behind me, and my eyes stay glued to the exposed wooden beams and catwalk above. My dad offers to take my coat, I shut my gaping mouth, smile and nod. I look back to the catwalk for a moment—I remember Jack and me running back and forth across that thing so many times. Wow.
“I’m not sure if you remember any of this...” He gestures to the house.
“I do, actually. My room was up there, on the left, right? I have a memory of running with Jack and throwing my stuffed animals over the side.”
He stares at me as if I’m a figment of his imagination. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Are you hungry? When did you last eat?” Mom asks.
“I’m good, I had breakfast this morning, my appetite is still settling from nerves.”
“If you’re sure. But you can always help yourself to whatever you can find, I mean it, anything—this is your home too.”
I thank her and give a tight smile.
“We have so many questions,” she says, dropping her arms.
“We both do,” I say.
My dad speaks up. “If there’s anything you don’t want to talk about, we don’t want to pressure you. I don’t know what you’ve been through all these years. This is on your terms. But I did have to call Tim at the police station and let him know. We have all been looking for you.”
My chest is tight, and I divert my gaze.I wasn’t unwanted.
They look at me, heads tilted and brows squished together like they’re confused by my silence.
“Bridget. You’re our child. Weneverstopped looking for you.”
The front door opens and slams shut, followed by heavy footsteps. Wow, there’s Jack, all grown up. He’s taller than my dad. My brother stops and stares at me.
“Birdie?”
“Jack Rabbit.” I forgot all about his nickname until the words came out of my mouth.
