Finding Fortune (9 page)

“This is wonderful, Mine,” Mayor Joy called down the table as he tried to shake a stubborn dollop of mashed potatoes off the serving spoon onto his plate. “It's been two weeks since I had a home-cooked meal.”

“And what do you do for a living, Mr. Joy?” Mr. Baxter asked.

“I'm a trucker,” the Mayor said. “I was a farmer too until a few months ago. Had a little place on the edge of town, but a developer came knocking and made an offer I couldn't refuse.”

“Elton's bunking out back for the time being,” Hildy told her son. “He fixed up a nice little room in the old tool-shed and there's plenty of room for Wayne out there.”

Mr. Baxter cocked his head. “Wayne?”

“My donkey,” the Mayor replied. “We've been together for a long time.”

I wiped my mouth with my napkin, holding back the urge to giggle and sneak another look across the table.

Hildy had reached out to pat the Mayor's hand. “Elton probably moved to Fortune and took over as mayor about the time you left home, Jack. How many years has it been, Elton?”

“Climbing up on forty,” the Mayor said.

Mr. Baxter looked amused. “I'm interested to hear why you'd want to serve that long … in a town like Fortune that's been on its way out for as long as I can remember.”

Mayor Joy looked surprised at the question. “Why, it was the biggest honor of my life getting elected,” he said. “I was one of the first black men to be voted mayor in this part of the country.” He shook his head. “That's something you don't give up on that easily, even if your town wants to give up the ghost before you do.” He laughed and tucked his napkin into his collar. “We've got our council meeting this week. You're coming, aren't you, Clarissa?”

“Of course!” Sister Loud fired out next to my ear, making me wince. “You know I never miss a meeting.”

Mr. Baxter raised one eyebrow. “You've kept the town council going too? And how many people are left on this council of yours?”

“There're four of us,” the Mayor told him. His tone had turned a little less jolly. “We've got more to discuss than you would think—like those developers in the area and your mother's museum. We're hoping we can breathe a little life back into this old town of ours.”

Mr. Baxter's jaw clenched as he thumped the bottom of the A.1. bottle with the heel of his hand. “Oh, I see. So the council was probably involved in convincing my mother to buy this dilapidated old place.”

“That's enough, Jack,” Hildy scolded before the Mayor had a chance to answer. “Elton and the council had nothing to do with my decision.” The table went quiet as we all busied ourselves with trying to saw through the slabs of meat on our plates. I managed to hack off a corner and chew my way through a tiny bite. Mine was right. Shoe leather.

Mr. Baxter cleared his throat and leaned forward. “So, Garrett,” he began, “I took a walk around the property before dinner and got a glimpse of your project out back. Mother says you're using all those shells to construct some sort of maze.”

Garrett smoothed his beard with his napkin. “Not a maze, sir. It's a labyrinth.” His voice was the kind that made you want to listen, low and rumbly, and he had one of those cool British accents, which took me by surprise. Hugh had said that Garrett used to fix up old castles and churches in England, but he never mentioned that Garrett had come from there too.

Mr. Baxter spent a long time chewing. Then he took a few more seconds to swallow, with his Adam's apple moving up and down. “You'll have to enlighten me,” he continued at last, reaching for his glass of water. “What's the difference between a maze and a labyrinth?”

“Completely different purposes,” Garrett said. “Mazes are designed to be a puzzle, to confound the visitor and entertain. But it's impossible to make a wrong turn in a labyrinth. There's only one path in and one path out.”

“And what would the purpose be in
that
?” Mr. Baxter asked.

The corners of Garrett's mustache lifted in a slow smile. “You'll have to walk it when I'm done and see for yourself.”

“Doesn't really sound like my sort of thing.” Mr. Baxter eyed the brown puddle of sauce on his plate with distaste. “And it seems to me there might be more pressing jobs around this place than moving ten tons of shells around in a circle.”

Hildy set down her fork, ready to intervene. But Garrett beat her to it. “No need to worry, sir,” he said lightly. “I've been saving my labyrinth work for the weekends and after hours.” Then Garrett glanced over at Hugh, obviously searching for a way to lift the mood. “Plus my mate Hugh here has been lending me a hand whenever he's available. Right, Hugh? We'll be done in no time at all.”

When Hugh nodded happily, Mr. Baxter pounced like a cat after a mouse. “And where do you go to school, Hugh? Over in Bellefield?”

Hugh leaned his head to one side, thinking. “I don't really go to school anymore,” he said. Then he turned to look at Mine. “Do I?” Before she had a chance to reply, Hugh let out a hiccupy laugh. “That's kind of funny, huh? I live in a school, but I don't have to go to school anymore.”

Mine straightened uneasily in her seat. “Well, of course you have to go to school, Hugh,” she said with a flustered smile. “We're going to start homeschooling in a few weeks, remember? Once you're done with summer vacation.”

Now Mr. Baxter was the one setting his fork down with a loud clink, and I stole a glance at Tucker just in time to see him spit something into his napkin. Of course that's when he happened to look across the table, and our eyes finally met as he was trying to lower his hand from his mouth without being noticed. I glanced away, mortified, thinking that this dinner couldn't possibly get any worse—until I spotted someone standing in the doorway across the room.

My mother.

The options raced through my head. I needed to leap up from my seat or pretend to choke on Mine's roast … something … anything … to avoid the awful scene that was coming. I could see it etched across Mom's face as she stalked toward us. I had never seen her so furious, with her arms rigid and her fists clenched at her sides. Even her hair looked like it belonged to someone else. Instead of wearing it loose around her shoulders like always, she had scraped every strand back in a tight knot.

“And who have we here?” Mr. Baxter asked. Still, I couldn't seem to move. When Hildy twisted in her seat, and Tucker and the Mayor and everyone else turned to see, I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Mom stopped a few feet behind Hildy, staring at me. Her neck was blotchy, and I could see her chest rising up and down.

“Oh, hello there,” Hildy said as she stood up from the table. “You must be Ren's mother. I'm sorry we didn't hear the buzzer. How'd you manage to get in?”

“The front door wasn't latched all the way,” Mom answered in an icy voice. “So I took the liberty of letting myself in. Are you Mrs. Baxter?”

Hildy nodded. “That's me. You can call me Hildy.” She reached out her hand.

Mom ignored it. “I've come to get my daughter,” she said. “But first, can you explain to me why
on earth
you would allow a twelve-year-old girl to run away from her family and hide out in this”—she let her gaze roam over the table and the stage with its dusty velvet curtains—“this place … surrounded by complete strangers … without the slightest effort to notify me?”

“Twelve?” Hildy spluttered with an appalled glance in my direction. “She said she was fourteen. And of course I notified you! I called as soon as Ren showed up on my doorstep! And you told me
very clearly
that it was fine for her to stay and that you'd pick her up this afternoon. Frankly, I expected you much earlier than this.”

“What?” Mom blinked her eyes closed, shaking her head in confusion. “That's ridiculous. We've never spoken. In fact I'd never even heard of you until about an hour and a half ago when my older daughter finally broke down and told me that Ren was hiding out at some sort of rooming house in Fortune—run by a woman named Mrs. Baxter.”

Somehow I had found my way to my feet, and now I lurched past Hildy to take hold of my mother's arm. “Mom, it's okay,” I pleaded. “I'll explain everything later. Let's just go.” But my mother wasn't planning on going anywhere yet. She pulled her arm away and held up her palm as stiff as a stop sign in front of my face.

“Well, then who in the devil was I talking to?” Hildy demanded. “Whoever it was said she was Ren's mother!” Everyone was staring at me now, their faces caught in the gold light that had come slanting through the row of windows across the shabby room.

“Ren?” Hildy asked.

“That was my sister you talked to,” my voice creaked out. “Nora. She pretended to be Mom.”

My mother's face had gone pale.
“What?”
she gasped. “Ren, how could you? How could Nora?” She shook her head in dismay. “Do you have any idea how worried I've been? As soon as I read your note last night, I wanted to go get you at Allison's, but it was late and I decided it'd be better for both of us if I gave you some time to calm down. Then I waited as long as I could to go over this morning, figuring you girls would want to sleep in. I nearly flipped when Carol told me you weren't there. Nora was at work all day, but when I called her, she told me not to worry.”

Mom's eyes flashed with anger. “She said you were probably hiding out at some other friend's house. So I contacted everybody I could think of. Kelly, Emma, all the girls on your soccer team, Uncle Spence, everybody! By this afternoon I was in a complete panic. I called Nora back at work and that's when she confessed you had called last night.” Then Mom let out a shuddery breath and turned to Hildy. “I apologize. Nora neglected to tell me she had spoken with you and played such a thoughtless trick, but at least she gave me the number here. I must have called a dozen times, trying to find out your address. But I kept getting your voice mail. Didn't you get my messages?”

Hildy was patting at her pockets, the same way she had last night. “I had that darn thing with me this morning,” she said, her voice faint. “How'd you find me then?”

“I called the sheriff's office,” Mom said.

“The sheriff!” Hildy squawked in alarm.

My mother nodded. “Thank goodness the deputy I spoke to knew about this place and told me how to get here.”

“Good land,” Hildy muttered. “There goes my reputation.”

“I'm sorry,” I whispered. I could feel little pricks gathering behind my eyes as I met Hildy's sad gaze. I wheeled toward the table. “I'm sorry, everybody,” I said, with my throat welling. “I never meant to cause so much trouble.”

Hugh looked like he might be on the verge of tears too. So he'd been right after all. I'd never come back to visit like I said I would—just like Mine's last boyfriend. How could I ever show my face at the school again after today?

“Please, Mom,” I begged. “Come on. We need to let them finish dinner. And I've got to go upstairs and get my stuff.” This time Mom followed along as I tugged her toward the door to the gym.

Before we had even made it over the threshold, I could hear Mr. Baxter blustering away. “What in the world was that all about? Mother? Who was that girl?”

I couldn't bear to hear Hildy's answer. I dropped Mom's arm and fled down the hall.

 

ELEVEN

I WAS GROUNDED FOR LIFE
—or that's how Mom made it sound the next day when she was on the phone with Allison's mom. I had cracked my bedroom door open to listen. “I'm sorry, Carol,” I overheard Mom say. “Ren won't be able to go to Adventure Bay with Allison and the other girls after all … No, sorry, next week won't work either. I'm afraid you'll have to go ahead without her. Ren's going to be sticking close to home for a while.”

I banged my door shut and didn't crack it open again until I heard my sister going back and forth to the bathroom. Nora was grounded too, but at least she got to leave the house for work since Mom said she'd make an exception for official employment.

“Pssst,” I hissed at Nora when she was on her way downstairs. She rolled her eyes, but turned and followed me into my room. “I feel like we did that whole thing for nothing,” I said after I had shut the door and thrown myself on my bed. “Mom won't even admit that this was all her fault in the first place. She says that she
did
work late the other night and she only took a quick break to go out to dinner because she thought I'd still be at Allison's pool party.
Supposedly
Rick called her at the last minute.”

Nora didn't answer at first. She bent down to tie her pink Converse sneakers. I was jealous of her waitress uniform—khaki shorts and a hot-pink polo shirt with her name stitched in green across the front.

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

Nora stood up, swinging her smooth brown ponytail over her shoulder. “What do
we
do now?” she repeated, so bitterly that my mouth dropped open. “How about
we
do
nothing
? Listen, Ren. I can't believe I let you drag me into that crazy plan of yours. You went way too far. And now I'm grounded too, for agreeing to cover for you.”

I stared at Nora. “Why are you acting like you don't care all of a sudden?”

“Of course I care,” she said. “But you need to stop thinking you can change things between Mom and Dad. They're either going to work it out on their own or they're not.”

“How's Dad supposed to work things out if he's stuck out in a desert somewhere thousands of miles away?”

“The thing is, Ren, we can't
tell
Mom how to feel. We can't
make
her want to stay married to Dad if she doesn't love him that way anymore.”