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I set the phone back down and rolled over, tried to sleep.
I was in those woods again. Jeb had just left to go pee. I wasn’t yet concerned.
And why should I be? Here he was now, coming back to me.
A firecracker went off somewhere in the distance. Even though the sound was dampened, it startled me.
Mom was busy packing up and Jeb surprised me. He took me in his arms and kissed me.
When he pulled away. I stared into his eyes, the moonlight reflected in them. I traced the contours of his face with my fingers.
“I love these.” I fingered the small moles he had just below his lower lip, on his chin. “Sexy.”
And then I woke. A glance at the clock across the room told me it was 3 am. Vito snored on Marc’s pillow beside me.
I grabbed my phone, searching for Marc’s text message, but the last message on there was from Mom, alerting me to her arrival at O’Hare. I set the phone back down, relieved and disappointed.
I sat up a bit, leaning against the headboard. I knew the rest of the night, sleep would elude me.
Lying there, I searched my memory.
Had the man who’d called himself Jeb had two moles on his chin?
III
We stood on the Blue Line L platform at its terminus—O’Hare Airport. People hurried to and from the airport proper all around us. Trains chugged, waiting, in the gray and uninspiring station. Mom’s three-day visit had been worthwhile, but far too brief.
“I wish I could stay longer, honey, but I’ll lose my job.”
I followed her up the escalator and into the airport proper.
I hated that she couldn’t get away for more time from the industrial pottery where she worked. She’d been there so many years, working herself quite literally to the bone, and they couldn’t even give her some kind of compassionate leave. I hated even more that this first-ever visit to me in Chicago had to be cut short, especially since she’d stepped out of her comfort zone and flew for the first time in her life. It was a bigger step than she’d allow herself credit for.
But I knew the realities of her work—piece work labor. Despite hard, thankless work that drained her, she could be replaced in the blink of an eye if she challenged the pottery’s rules. In St. Clair and the surrounding areas, jobs like hers were hard to come by. Once upon a time, the place was heavy with industry, steel and pottery mostly, but those were bygone times and had been since before I was even born.
“I know, I know. The fact that you overcame your fears to come out here and support me means more than I can say. It really did help—just being here made me feel less alone with my fears.” I drew in a shaky breath. “Nothing compares to a mother’s love, even when you’re an old fart like me.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “You’re hardly old, honey. If you’re old, what does that make me? Ancient?”
Travelers hurried around us. We were a small island in a human stream.
“Well, I hardly did anything.” She toyed with the handle on her roller bag.
“Stop. You did a lot. You made me feel supported and even allowed me to hope a little. And you gave me a name that might lead somewhere.” I shrugged. “Who knows? This whole thing is just unreal.”
She hugged me too hard, but I didn’t mind. “I really need to get to my gate.”
I chuckled. “Your flight doesn’t leave for two hours and you’re already here. Relax.”
“I know, I know, but I worry. Please try to understand.”
And I could see she really was concerned about being on time. Her fear was irrational, but I understood.
“You’ll call that private investigator we found?”
We’d looked up a few private investigators the day before yesterday and vetted them on Yelp, thinking someone with better internet and access to other resources might help us locate who this Chris Sgro person was. I knew, even if we found him, it could lead to another dead end, and certainly might not help us find Marc. My funds were severely limited, so it’s not like I could use someone for very long.
“I will. I’ll call her as soon as I get home. And I’ll let you know what she says.”
