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“Not all of them,” I say, trying to sound playful, but there’s nothing playful about it.
“Oh, now that would take a miracle and you know it.” Mom’s blue eyeshadow takes over half her face as she lowers her lids. “Anyway, at this point in my life, I’ll take what I can get. What’s happening?” She nods my way. “How’s it going at the new agency?”
“The new office is fine,” I say. “I’ve already been assigned to a case. But what I really want to talk about tonight is Erin.”
The sound of eighties music filters through the speakers and intermittent bouts of laughter resonate from a nearby table, but among the three of us, you could hear a pin drop.
“Well?” Riley nods my way. “Don’t keep us in suspense. Is she dead? What did you find out?”
“No, not that,” I say, suddenly sorry I didn’t preface the conversation with the fact I have no clue about Erin’s safety. It’s a sad state of events that I’d have to. “Rob found some footage of her out in Ironwood Springs,” I say, stroking Buddy’s back as if he were the one who found my sister.
“Ironwood Springs?” Mom gags as she says it. “That’s over an hour away. Let’s start hitting the streets and asking if anyone’s seen her.”
“I’ll take care of that.” I’m quick to squash the idea of the Baxter women forming a rogue task force.
“Wait.” Riley shakes her head. “What was she doing out there? What kind of footage are we talking about? Is she robbing banks?”
“She was seen at a liquor store. That’s all I have right now.” I shrug at my mother. “Do either of you remember her saying anything about a self-help course? Like maybe she was taking it, or advertising it in some way?” At this point, I’m not sure what I fear more for my sister—death or a life in a cult. Both seem equally dismal.
“Self-help course?” Riley inches back and shakes her head. “I don’t remember anything about that.”
“I don’t either,” Mom says, studying the table as if the answers would somehow carve themselves into the wood. “Wait a minute. Last I spoke to her, she said something about unlocking the doors to her real self—the one she accused your father and me of denying her.”
Riley groans hard. “This again?”
Mom nods and we sit there a moment absorbing it. I can hear every argument between Erin and my parents playing out all over again.
My sister had the opportunity to graduate from high school at eleven. She tested out of every subject, which would explain why she sat around bored and doodling half the time in class. My parents had a battery of tests run on my sister and the good news was that she was healthy as a horse.
What they also thought was good news was that she had an IQ of 160, which put her in genius range. They quickly shuttled her off to the local college where she was given a full ride.
Erin hated it.
She wanted to be with kids her own age. She didn’t want a leg-up or a head start in life. She wanted friends, normalcy, and she got neither.
She graduated with honors at sixteen and became the world’s smartest hermit. Never leaving her bedroom for years on end. She passed on grad school and any job offers that came her way. She lost herself in books.
Until one day she decided to find herself. She started to party, tried a few drugs, tried hard liquor, and decided that scene wasn’t for her. She focused on finding real friends. And that’s how she ended up drifting until one day she drifted completely away.
“Maybe we should change the subject,” Riley offers just as the food arrives.
And change the subject we do.
We talk about Riley’s business venture with her boyfriend Ryan, the Pick-It-Clean hauling business.
We talk about Mom, the diner, and the fact Mom has not one but three potential suitors sniffing around. I’m not surprised by that. My mother might be no-nonsense to the bone, but there’s a charm about her that just about everyone finds irresistible.
We talk about everyone but Erin.
We wrap it up, and soon I’m back at my cabin. I left a message for Rob and let him know I could keep Buddy for the night if need be and he thanked me for that. My mother fed him two servings of her nightly special, and judging by the way he’s passed out on the hearth, it seems the food agreed with him.
But I’ve got far too much adrenaline coursing through me to get any sleep.
I look up every single mention of the Paradise commune that I can find. I scour the literature available through their website for those cheesy courses they’re pushing.
And I find two things.
An ad copy that reads, Don’t waste any more time, unlock the doors to your real self.
