If I'd Never Known Your Love (7 page)

"Yeah, me, too." She folded the banana skin back onto itself and stuffed it into an empty water glass on the nightstand next to the peach-colored rose Barbara had had freeze-dried and preserved for Julia. After five years it had faded and was showing wear, but had not lost one petal. It was the last thing Julia looked at each night, the memory that put her to sleep.

Shelly picked up the small, framed photograph beside the lamp, the last one taken of them as a family. They were in the backyard, stiffly posed, waiting for the remote to take their picture. Seconds later they had burst out laughing, Evan grabbing Shelly and Jason around their waists and swinging them in a circle.

"I look so different." She sat on the corner of the bed. "I'll bet Dad won't even recognize me when he sees me again."

Feeling a breath-stealing wave of love that Shelly had made the effort to say
when
and not
if,
Julia sat next to her and put her arm across her daughter's shoulders for a quick hug. In five years Shelly had gone from an awkward ten-year-old with twin ponytails and Chiclets teeth to a young woman who turned the heads of young boys and men old enough to know better.

"He'll be surprised," Julia said. 'I’m sure it's something he thinks about all the time, but I'm just as sure he has it all wrong."

"Why?"

"Your father's never had a very good imagination. He's a born engineer, practical and methodical." She and Evan were the opposites that formed the perfect whole. She was the kite, Evan the tail, both made to function best with the other.

"I don't remember what Dad's like. . .not really. I have all the pictures in my head that I'm supposed to have, but it's like they're not connected to a real person anymore."

"Sometimes it feels a little like that for me, too." It was a lie, but one Evan would understand. She remembered everything about him, from the way he felt spooned against her in the morning to the way he walked into a crowded room and searched faces until he found her. And then came his smile—in recognition, in discovery, in love.

She could easily imagine herself stepping into his arms and know exactly how it would feel, where her head would touch his chin, how he would smell.

Shelly stared at the photograph. "Jason hasn't changed as much as I have."

"Not yet. But there are some big changes coming."

"Did you know he thinks he's getting a beard? 1 caught him looking in the mirror the other day and he tried to convince me there was something growing on his chin. It's so dumb—like having hair on your face makes you special."

"At twelve it does." She smiled. "At thirty it's a pain in the butt."

"Do you ever wonder what Dad's like now?"

Julia started to answer, but Shelly cut her off. "What if he's nothing like he used to be? What if he actually likes Colombia and doesn't want to leave? Would we have to move there?"

"No one can go through what your father's gone through and not be changed by it. But I can guarantee he's not going to ask us to move."

"I'm so tired of this. I just want it to be over." Shelly put the photograph back on the nightstand and stood.

"I know how hard this is on you and Jason."

"No, you don't," she fired back. "You don't have a clue what it's like for us. You think you do, but you don't."

"Then tell me."

"I can't. It would hurt your feelings."

"I can take it."

Shelly hesitated. Her lower lip trembled with the effort to hold back tears.

"Sometimes I think it would be better if they had just shot Daddy instead of kidnapping him. At least then we'd know what happened and we wouldn't have to live like this."

Julia was torn between outrage and grief. "You don't mean that."

"I just want us to be like we used to be." A sob caught in her throat.

Julia took Shelly in her arms. "What we used to be is gone," she said softly. "It's a memory, another life." She leaned back to engage Shelly s eyes. "Now, you want to tell me what brought this on?"

Shelly dipped her head. "You said you'd be here. You promised. Why do I always have to be second? Why couldn't I be first just this once?"

When she'd told Shelly she would be there for her first real pick-up-the-phone-and-ask date she'd meant every word. Nothing would get in the way. She tucked an ebony-colored strand of hair behind Shelly's ear. "I thought you were okay with my leaving."

"You said I could count on you. You
promised."

"I know. I'm sorry.' There was nothing else she could say, nothing Shelly hadn't heard a hundred times before.

Shelly closed her eyes, squeezing out a lone, last tear. She sat there for several agonizingly long seconds before she took a deep breath and said, "And I'm sorry for what I said about Dad. I didn't mean it."

"We need to talk about this some more. Maybe when—"

"Hey, bat breath,"
Jason shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "Patty just drove that piece of junk of hers into the driveway." The words were laced with envy. It was everything Jason could do not to salivate when he saw Patty's car, a midnight-blue 1965

Mustang with orange and yellow flames painted across the hood and front fenders courtesy of a grandfather whose all-time favorite movie was
American Graffiti.

Shelly untucked the strand of hair from behind her ear. "Will you still be here when I get home?"

Julia shook her head. "Remember—I told you my plane leaves at two."

"I guess I'll see you when you get back, then."

"I'll call." She always did, at least once a day. "I'm going to want you to tell me all about your date, so don't go to bed until you hear from me."

Shelly nodded and left, bounding down the stairs. She yelled from the front door,

"Love you, Mom."

"I love you, too," Julia called back.

Julia gathered the banana peel and glass from the nightstand before she went downstairs to look for Jason. She found him standing at the living-room window, peeking through the curtain. "Piece of junk?" she chided."I hope you didn't say that to Patty."

"You think I'm crazy? She'd make me and Shawn walk to baseball practice."

"Speaking of walking, shouldn't you be leaving?"

"Shawn's mom is picking me up. She switched days off, so she's driving us on Mondays and Fridays now."

"You already told me that, didn't you?"

"A couple of days ago."

"Sorry, I forgot."

He patted her shoulder as he passed. "Yeah, I know. That's what happens when you get old, Mom."

Julia ignored the taunt. "Take your key in case you get home before Aunt Barbara gets here. She said she had a parent-teacher conference that could run late."

He stopped and turned to look at her. "Why is Aunt Barbara going to be here?"

"Washington?" she prompted. "My meeting with the ambassador?"

"I thought that was next week."

"That's what happens when you're twelve and don't pay attention."

He groaned. "I told Tom he could stay over tomorrow night. His mom's having some guy for dinner and he doesn't want to be there."

Tom was Jason's best friend, their house his refuge for the past year while his parents went through a trial separation that had turned into a messy divorce. "I'll call Aunt Barbara before I leave, but you'll have to check with her when you come home in case she had something else planned."

"I told him you'd drop us off at the mall Saturday. Could you tell her that, too?"

"Remind me—when did I start letting you hang out at the mall?"

He grinned. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"Get your stuff. I just heard Shawn's mother pull into the driveway."

He glanced at the clock on the mantel. "It can't be her. She's never early."

Julia went to the side window beside the door. "You're right. It's Aunt Barbara."

Her thick, naturally curly hair drawn back in a ponytail, wearing a corduroy jumper with enormous patch pockets, a knit turtleneck and tennis shoes, Barbara looked closer to sixteen than thirty-five. Short, like their mother, she had to stretch to make five foot two—an asset for a kindergarten teacher but a major frustration for a woman who loved long skirts and tall boots.

"Shouldn't you be at work?"Julia said, opening the door as Barbara came up the walk.

"I wanted to give you something. For luck." She came inside. Noticing Jason, she said, "Hey, kiddo, what are you still doing here?"

"Shawn's mother is picking me up." He glanced at Julia. "Don't forget to ask about Tom."

"What about Tom?" Barbara asked

"I told him he could spend the night Saturday," Jason supplied. "But Mom said I had to check with you first."

"It's okay with me. I like Tom."

"Thanks." He gave Barbara a quick hug and disappeared down the hallway.

"Don't forget your key," Julia reminded him.

"I won't...I'm not the one getting old," he shouted back.

Barbara smiled and cocked an eyebrow at her sister. "What's that all about?"

"He's trying to convince me that I'm becoming senile." She started to close the door and saw Shawn's mother pulling into the driveway. "Jason, they're here."

"I'm coming." Seconds later Jason bounded down the hallway, made a leap to touch the ceiling, smiled in satisfaction at his success and raced out the door. He called over his shoulder, "Bye, Aunt Barbara. Love you, Mom."

"Goodbye, Jason," Barbara said.

"I love you, too," Julia replied, meaning every word. After Evan's kidnapping she'd never said goodbye to her children without telling them that she loved them. Now they were the ones who told her first.

Barbara put her arm around Julia's waist. "Ah, the pitter-patter of little feet."

"It's yours to share anytime. You don't have to wait to be asked." Julia waited for the car to leave, waved, then closed the door."Now, what did you bring me?"

Digging deep into her pocket, Barbara took out a small envelope. "Remember Mom's four-leaf clover?"

"The one she had at the back door?" Encased in plastic and thumb-tacked to the wall above the light switch, it had hung there as long as Julia could remember.

"I asked for it when they remodeled the kitchen last summer. I didn't believe she'd actually part with it, but then Dad told her it might help me find a man and she practically insisted I take it. You would crack up at the ways she's found to ask if I've corralled anyone yet. Honest to God, I think she'd be willing to drop her standards to eating and breathing she's so desperate for me to get married again. I called her yesterday and told her I was going to give it to you, and she said—"

"That it was a sign and that Evan—"

"Would be home by Valentine's Day. Just know that when he's home, you're to give the thing back to me."

"Three weeks, huh? I wish you would have thought about this five years ago." For the first two years after Evan was taken, her mother had begun every conversation with the latest positive sign she'd seen that let her know that Evan would be home soon—

things as wildly varied as discovering a pebble in a bag of split peas to the number of blue cars they passed on the way to church on Sunday. Then she'd simply stopped. Julia had never asked why but had a feeling her father had something to do with it.

"Well, from her lips to God's ears," Julia said. She reached for the envelope and was startled to see her hand shaking, not just a little, the way it did when she was on a caffeine high, but a lot. She stared at her trembling fingers for several seconds, then brought her other hand up and saw that it was shaking, too.

"Is this something new?" Barbara asked.

"I don't know. I think so. At least, I've never noticed it before."

"Is it the meeting?"

Denial was on the tip of her tongue, when she felt a swell of tears tighten her throat and admitted, "I'm so tired, Barbara. Just getting someone to call me back anymore takes weeks and weeks. The ambassador is only seeing me tomorrow as a favor to his cousin Gina Michaels, the new FBI agent assigned to the case. Evan is yesterday's news and I've run out of ways to make people who can do something about it want to try. I don't know what else to do."

"I'm such an idiot. I should have realized."Barbara put her arms around her sister.

"What time is Harold picking you up?"

Wary of the abrupt change in the conversation, Julia answered slowly. "Twelve-thirty."

"What do you have planned between now and then?"

"What's your point?"

"You shouldn't be alone. You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about this."

"I'm alone every day."

"Today is different." She took Julia's hand."Come on—let me do this for you."

"I'm okay. Really."She managed to summon a confident smile."Now, get out of here.

There's a classroom full of five-year-olds who need you more than I do."

"Let me do this for you," she persisted.

"Save it for later. When I get back."

"Oh, Julia...I don't know what to say. I'm just so, so sorry."

"Yeah, me, too." She forced a smile.

Barbara glanced at her watch. She sighed in defeat. "Any last-minute instructions?"

"None that I've thought of. All the phone numbers and flight times are on the fridge, as usual." She walked Barbara to the door. "Oh, there is one thing. Shelly is upset that I'm not going to be here for her date with John on Saturday, so be prepared."

"I'll have some cocoa ready when she comes home, in case she wants to talk. And if she doesn't—" She shot her sister a wicked grin. "I'll make her life a living hell until she does."

Julia felt a sudden, unreasoning stab of jealousy. She should be the one Shelly talked to. A first date only happened once. The excitement, the joy, the enthusiasm would be watered down or lost in the retelling.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Barbara asked.

The phone rang. "Stop worrying about me." Julia gave Barbara a quick hug. "I'll call as soon as I get to the hotel." She made a dash for the kitchen and grabbed the phone on the fourth ring. "Hello." She waited for a response. Nothing. She tried again.