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Claire closed her eyes tightly, imagining her darling Gail in the sunlight, the salty breeze through her red hair. She was okay.
“She was with that guy,” Steve said. “Nathan. But I get the sense things are ending between them.”
“Does that mean she wants to come home?” Claire rasped.
“I don’t know,” Steve said. “The main thing, now, is we know she’s safe. I’ll keep you updated on our next steps.”
“Oh, Steve. Oh gosh.” Claire’s eyes welled with tears, and she banged the kitchen floor with her fist.
“I know, sis. I do.”
“I love you. I love her. I don’t know what to say.”
“We’ll figure this out together,” Steve promised her. “Just sit tight. She’s coming back to the car. I’ll call you later.”
Claire curled up in a ball on the floor after that, listening as the wind outside burst against the house and whistled through the trees.
No mother should ever have to go through this, she thought. But she had. And she’d survived.
When she got the strength, she called Abby, who was still at her grandparents’ house. When she told Abby what she knew, Abby burst into tears of shock. “I’m coming back right away,” she said.
For the next few hours, Claire lived in fear that Gail would refuse to come home. She was an adult and could make a new life if she wanted to. She could cut all ties. Claire technically couldn’t stop her.
Steve called that evening, announcing they’d gotten a hotel room in downtown Los Angeles for the night. Their flight was tomorrow. They would bring Gail home.
“Can I talk to her?” Claire asked, her voice heavy with tears.
“She’s asleep,” Steve said quietly.
“You didn’t give her a room by herself, did you?” Claire was stricken. What if she snuck out?
“No,” Steve assured her. “Rina’s staying in her room. I have a room to myself.”
* * *
Claire spent the following morning and afternoon doubled over with stomach aches yet determined to make the house feel “homey” enough for Gail’s return. She and Abby scoured the grocery store for ingredients for lasagna, Gail’s favorite dish, plus Gail’s most-loved snacks, Twizzlers and Snickers and Sour Cream Ruffles and Blueberry Pop-Tarts. Their cart looked like a child’s dream.
Back home, as she and Abby sliced vegetables for the lasagna, Abby paused and set down her knife. Her eyes looked far away and unfocused.
“I hope she forgives me,” she whispered. “For not listening to her. For pushing her aside.”
Claire gathered Abby in her arms and held her tightly. “You know what? I think you’re already forgiven. The question is this. Do you forgive her for running away like that?”
“Not yet,” Abby admitted, tugging her hair.
“It’ll be a process for all of us,” Claire admitted. “But we’ll do it. Because there’s no other option. And because we love each other to dickens. Don’t we?”
Abby nodded and smiled for the first time in weeks. Claire wanted to bottle that smile and take it with her everywhere.
Steve’s truck pulled into the driveway at seven-thirty that night. Claire whipped open the door and gazed through the blue night, watching as Rina opened the back door and handed Gail her backpack. Gail hopped out, her hair whipping out behind her. She hugged Rina with her eyes closed. Claire’s heart somersaulted.
As Gail and Rina’s hug broke, Gail stepped toward the house where she’d been raised, her eyes big enough to swallow the scene in one gulp.
And then, she spotted her mother. Abby hurried up behind her, peeking out from behind Claire’s shoulder. For a moment, the three of them stared at one another in wonder, terrified about what awaited them after this.
Abby burst from behind Claire and ran along the walkway, her arms extended. Gail hurried forward, and the two of them burrowed against one another, weeping. Claire’s heart shattered. Her girls were back together again. They’d found peace.
As Claire gathered her daughters back into the warmth of their family home, she waved through the darkness toward Rina and Steve, who held each other close in the front seat of Steve’s car. Steve was crying, and Rina looked stoic and formal. They’d gone across the continent to find her girl. They’d brought her home.
That night, Claire, Gail, and Abby sat at the kitchen table and feasted on lasagna as another snow fell outside, peppering the island with white. Gail kept reaching for her mother’s hand, bubbling with apologies. She asked for a second and a third helping of lasagna. And never once did her girls bring up the elephant in the room:they had to move forward without Russel. That he was officially gone.
But with Gail and Abby by her side, Claire was restored. Whatever awaited the three of them, they would face it with compassion. With awareness. And with each other. Forever.
