Pieces (5 page)

A
S SOON
as she spotted her mother, she smiled. It was good to be home. The air was warmer here, and more familiar. No matter how long she lived away from home, she would never love the California ocean air any less.

“It’s so good to have you back,” her mother said as Naomi fell into her arms. She smelled like her shampoo, a flowery scent Naomi had never noticed until after the kidnapping. Of course, there were a lot of things she had never noticed about her mother until after the kidnapping. Her life, it seemed, would always be split into
before
and
after.

“Are you hungry?” her mother asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. Naomi was surprised it was down, sleek and blonde. She always had it up. “Let’s get your bags and then grab some lunch. Your father said he’d meet us wherever we like.”

Sure.

Despite knowing better, Naomi kept looking around for Jesse, as if she might spot him somewhere. Her mother looked at her sideways.

“You’re not going to see him. He’s in Berkeley with his father. That’s two hours away, and I doubt he’s allowed to leave town.”

“I know, Mom, I know.”

They found her luggage on the baggage claim carousel and headed out to the car. Naomi had flown into the local airport, so home was close by. She didn’t want to go out for lunch. Her bedroom sounded like a better place to wallow. Once they were settled in the car, she pulled out her iPod and started pushing the ear buds into her ears. Her mother cleared her throat.

“We’re ten minutes away from lunch and I haven’t seen you in five months. Do you think we can talk for a minute?”

Naomi put the iPod away and dumped her purse on the floor. She knew her relationship with her mother was juvenile, but they had a lot of lost time to make up for. In a lot of ways, it was as if she was fifteen again, only this time with a mother who was concerned about her. It made her happy and frustrated at the same time— happy that her mother saw her and cared, but frustrated because she wanted to scream, “I’m an adult, so treat me like one!” But she knew it would get her nowhere, and she didn’t feel like an adult, so she wasn’t quite sure how to act like one. It was easier to turn on her iPod and ignore everything, but that was clearly not going to fly today.

“So, tell me about your classes,” her mother said, touching Naomi’s arm. “How were your exams?”

Naomi clenched her fists as she thought about how awful it had been to get through that last week of school. She had studied. Kind of. She knew she had probably failed most of the tests.

“They were hard,” she muttered, backing away from her mother’s tender touch. “I’ll register for my next classes as soon as I get back.”

“You’re still wanting to do film?”

“Yes, I think so. I need to get my Bachelor’s before I start the actual program, so I guess we’ll see.” She remembered Finn’s mention of USC and the cinematography program there. The thought was like a dust bunny floating along the edges of her mind, skipping about in the breeze of everything else.

Her mother smiled as she pulled her phone from her purse and opened it to find a number. “Will you call your father?” she asked, handing the phone to Naomi. “Tell him we’ll be at Carter’s. It’s not far from his office.”

Naomi took the phone and pushed the call button. It wasn’t often she went out to eat with her parents, but it had become tradition every time she came home from another semester.

“This is Jason,” her father answered.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Naomi, you’re home!” His voice was polished and confident. It always soothed her, somehow.

“Yeah, Mom says she wants you to meet us at Carter’s for lunch.”

“Mmm, sounds great. I’ll be there in a little bit, okay? Order me the garlic shrimp linguini. They usually have it on the menu.”

“Sure thing.” Naomi winced at the mention of shellfish and said goodbye as her mother pulled into the parking lot of an upscale restaurant. Naomi would have preferred a cheap hamburger joint, but she couldn’t envision her parents in such a place. Her mother was dressed in her usual office clothes, and her father would be in a suit and tie.

“Going back to what you said before,” her mother said, meeting Naomi’s eyes, “whatever you choose to do at Harvard, I’m proud of you.”

Naomi opened the door and grabbed her purse off the floor. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I mean it.” She gave Naomi a beaming smile and wrapped an arm around her as a greeter opened the door for them. “You’re going to add beautiful things to the world.”

Naomi took a deep breath and scrunched her nose at the smell of fish and garlic. She hated fish, but she had never told her mother that. She had told Evelyn, but only because Evelyn had thought to ask her. It was always an odd sensation when she realized her kidnappers knew more about her than her own parents did.

V

June

J
UNE STRETCHED OUT BEFORE NAOMI AS
an ocean of nothingness. Several times she thought of calling or texting Finn to see how he was doing. She missed talking with him. She missed her regular Wednesday breakfast of almond cake and iced tea. The local café didn’t serve almond cake. Every time the craving swept over her, she picked up her phone and scrolled to Finn’s number, but couldn’t bring herself to hit
call.

Thinking back on last summer, she remembered it as tolerable. Aside from helping her parents with the Naomi’s Hope foundation—a project she was proud her parents had started to help fund searches for missing children—she had spent a lot of time on the beach or going for long walks. She tried to dive back into the same things as soon as she was home.

One thing she hadn’t done yet was borrow her mother’s Mercedes SUV and drive along the coast. Last summer, she had taken the SUV every few days and stopped to take pictures of water or rocks or a beautiful sunset. Other times, she drove into San Francisco and went shopping or asked permission to film a street performer. Summers were declared free from counselors, so it was her time to relax and see if she had truly made progress during the year. This summer seemed to be moving backward. As June slipped into July and she thought more and more of Jesse, it was as if the few months after he had helped her escape were happening all over again. All she wanted to do was curl up on her bed and sleep forever. So she did, but only for a week instead of forever. On the sixth day, her mother came upstairs and opened the door without knocking.

“This has gone on long enough, Naomi.”

She rolled over in bed, an arm over her eyes as if she was sick and couldn’t look at anything. “What has gone on long enough?”

A heavy sigh. “You know what I mean. It’s been over two years. You’ve had time to recover past this stage, and knowing Jesse is out on parole changes absolutely nothing. Moping about it isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

She was wrong. It changed everything. “I’m not moping.”

“What do you call hibernating in your room for a solid week?”

“I call it nothing. I spent last month shopping with you and helping with the foundation. And I just finished an entire semester of school. I’m tired.”

There was a pause and Naomi imagined her mother putting her hands on her hips and glaring. “You haven’t helped much with anything. Anytime I’m with you, you’re moping. Last summer you were at least trying to be happy. Now you’re acting like a sulky five-year-old.”

That was it. Naomi moved her arm from her face and sat up, her eyes narrowing. “And how would you know how I acted when I was five years old? You were never around.” She lowered her voice as it started shaking. “You didn’t even care.”

It was the first time she had ever confronted her mother directly about how she had been raised by nannies, and she could see the dagger hit its mark. Her mother winced, faltering for a moment until she regained her composure. Naomi looked away, ashamed of her outburst.

“Yes,” she admitted, “but that has changed. I care now.”

“Yelling at me to grow up is not caring.”

Her mother’s shoulders fell. She looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. This ... this parenting thing is new to me.” Walking into the room, she sat on the end of the bed. “I don’t know what to do for you, Naomi.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know.”

Naomi sat up a little more, realizing it was one in the afternoon and she was still in her pajamas. She had to admit it was pathetic. She couldn’t blame her mother for being concerned. “I’m twenty-one, Mom. You shouldn’t feel like you have to parent me now.”

Sliding her hand from her nose, her mother turned with tears glittering in her eyes. She was so beautiful. Naomi knew she was forty-seven, but her age didn’t show in her luminous complexion and silky blonde hair. Even though she was working from home today, she was dressed in her usual attorney clothes—a cream pencil skirt with a white silk blouse. Naomi knew her closet was filled with such outfits. She always wore creams and whites, as if she was outwardly projecting how innocent and pure she was. The ironic thing, Naomi realized, was she was far from pure. She had made huge mistakes, and they both knew it. Still, in so many ways, Naomi envied her happiness and success.

“I want to parent you,” her mother said, blinking back her tears. “I’m your mother, and you deserve to have me be there for you, even as an adult.” With a gentle hand, she cupped Naomi’s face. “Please let me try now that I have that chance, even if it’s awkward.”

Naomi reached up to touch her mother’s hand. For a long moment, they looked at each other. Naomi wondered what it was like to have a daughter, to feel that need to control another person’s life like her mother so obviously wanted to control hers. Or maybe it wasn’t control her mother craved. Maybe it was something else. Before she could let that sink in too far, Naomi softly nudged her mother’s hand away. “I’ll stop moping,” she said in a confident tone.

Her mother looked at the ceiling. “That’s not what I want. I want you to be—”

“Happy?” Naomi interrupted, her confidence slipping away. “Of course that’s what you want. That’s what everybody wants for me. Even my kidnappers wanted that, but it was because they thought I wouldn’t try to escape if I was happy with them. Why do you want me to be happy, Mom? So you don’t have to worry about me? So you can focus on other things instead?”

Naomi knew the words would sting her mother, but she didn’t mean them in such a way. She was truly curious.

Her mother focused on the ceiling, her jaw tightening. “I suppose it’s not all about happiness,” she said. “I suppose it’s impossible for you to understand what I want for you and why I want it.” She looked away from the ceiling and stood up from the bed. With hardness in her expression Naomi had never seen before, she said, “I know you’re an adult now. I know you can make your own decisions, but you’re not living completely by your own means. I’ve sacrificed so many things for you—things you can’t even imagine—so you can have a comfortable life and pursue anything you want.” She took a deep breath. “Even if I don’t approve of those things. I almost lost you because of those sacrifices. I’ll admit a lot of it was selfish, but after you were gone, I remembered my initial motivations. I remembered ....” She pursed her lips and turned away.

“Remembered what?” Naomi leaned forward. She had never seen her mother open up like this.

“Nothing. I can’t talk about it right now, not when you think I don’t care.”

“I know you care, Mom. I—”

She waved her hand. “Forget it. Go back to sleep. Your summers are supposed to be free of pestering and counselors.”

Before Naomi could protest, her mother walked out of the room and softly shut the door behind her. Naomi scolded herself for being such a brat, but she didn’t know how to fix it. Everything seemed broken and distant, and it was all her own fault.

Picking up her phone on the nightstand, she stared at the screen. With a trembling finger, she scrolled to the name James Sullivan. Jesse’s father was so much like him. It comforted her to know James had given her a standing invitation to visit him anytime. Now that Jesse was on parole and apparently living with him, maybe that invitation was closed. She had visited him once last summer. He was an English professor at Berkeley, and they had talked about books and art and spoke little of Jesse. Maybe if she showed up at his door ....

No, no she couldn’t.

Either way, she had to get out of the house. She had to do something besides moping, as her mother put it.

I
T WAS
almost too easy to get the keys to her mother’s SUV. All Naomi had to do was put on a comfortable outfit, pack all of her camera equipment, and slip on a pair of sunglasses. She found her mother in her office, her attention fixed on the computer screen in front of her. “I’m going to take pictures,” she said, shifting her feet. “Can I take one of the cars?”

Her mother looked up and smiled. “Decided to come out of your cave, huh?”

“Yeah, you were right. I need to stop moping.”

Nodding, her mother wheeled back from her desk and stretched out her arms. “You want the Mercedes?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay?”