Once in a Blue Moon (29 page)

“I’m sure she’d love it.” Though, for all she knew, Bella might have already seen the movie. The thought brought a pang—she had once known everything that went on in Bella’s life.

It was eleven fifteen by the time they arrived in Oakview. Kerrie Ann had phoned the caseworker as they were pulling into town, and now her heart leaped at the sight of Bella waiting with Mrs. Silvestre by the entrance to the dental clinic.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Bella came running toward them, wearing a huge grin that showed the gap where she’d lost another tooth.

Jeremiah’s reflexes were quicker than Kerrie Ann’s, and he scooped Bella into his arms, swinging her up into the air as easily as if she were a toddler. Bella shrieked with delight while Kerrie Ann looked on with mixed emotions. It didn’t seem fair somehow that Jeremiah, after having been a no-show most of Bella’s life, should get a free pass. But mainly she was glad that he was back in the picture as well as grateful for the vast capacity for forgiveness that little children seemed to have. From the way Bella acted around him, anyone would think he’d been a constant in her life from day one. The moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d been smitten. Already she was calling him “Daddy.”

Jeremiah lowered Bella to the ground, and then she was dashing over to hug Kerrie Ann. “Mommy!” Her face glowed. “I thought you’d
never
get here. What took you so long?”

“It’s a long drive, sweetie,” Kerrie Ann reminded her. Holding tightly to Bella, she was gripped by an emotion more powerful than joy. A whole day and night with her little girl, and no one to peer over her shoulder! It was almost too good to be true. Something she’d once taken for granted but which she now saw as a gift.

She was careful to speak politely to Mrs. Silvestre. “I promise to take good care of her,” said the newly humbled Kerrie Ann even as the old one ground her teeth at the injustice.

Mrs. Silvestre gave her a coolly appraising look. “I’m sure you will,” she said. But this time it didn’t grate on Kerrie Ann. She knew Mrs. Silvestre was only doing her job.

Then they were on the road again, Bella buckled into the backseat, all cares and woes set aside for the time being. They stopped for lunch at a McDonald’s along the way, to the delight of Bella, who had Jeremiah rolling his eyes and making gagging noises at her description of the healthy meals Carol Barthold prepared every night. “I’m not even allowed to have French fries!” she reported. Then she caught herself, adding, “But I like most of the stuff she makes. She’s a good cook.” Clearly she felt some loyalty toward her foster parents. The realization took some of the buoyancy out of Kerrie Ann’s mood, but as much as she wanted to despise the Bartholds, she couldn’t work up more than heated indignation. They were taking good care of Bella, which was more than she’d managed to do. How would it look to them that Bella’s first meal out with her mommy and daddy was junk food?

But soon she stopped fretting. They were having too much fun. She didn’t even mind the umpteen choruses of “Row, row, row your boat” or Bella’s endless knock-knock jokes. By the time they arrived back at the house, it felt as if they’d always been a threesome, and at the few stops they made along the way she imagined the people they encountered thinking what a nice family they were.

Lindsay and Miss Honi made a big fuss over Bella. Bella’s eyes widened at the sight of the old woman with the bright red lipstick and blue eye shadow. But she took to her at once, content to have Miss Honi hold her hand as they headed inside. And Miss Honi was at her best. When Bella declared, with an air of superiority, after Miss Honi suggested a game of Old Maid before supper, “Old Maid is for babies. I’m
way
too old for that,” the old woman merely laughed and said with a wink, “Well, sugar, in that case you’ll just have to teach me another game because this old maid only knows a few tricks.”

When it was Lindsay’s turn, she squatted down so that she was at eye level with Bella, smiling at her warmly. “I want you to think of this as your home, too,” she said. “You’ll be sleeping in your mom’s bed”—Lindsay had volunteered to sleep on the living room sofa tonight so that Kerrie Ann and Bella could be in the same room—“but you’ll have your own set of sheets that no one else gets to use. They’ll be yours whenever you come to visit. Your mom bought them especially for you. She’s been so looking forward to this. We all have. We even made a special supper in your honor—fried chicken.”

Bella’s eyes lit up. “I
love
fried chicken.”

Grant, who was in attendance as well, smiled at her and said, “Me, too. It’s my favorite.”

“Who are you?” Bella looked up at him curiously.

Grant glanced uncertainly at Lindsay, as if not quite sure what his role was, before answering, “You can call me Uncle Grant.”

“I didn’t know I had an uncle,” Bella said.

“You didn’t know you had an aunt, either,” put in Lindsay. “But we’ve heard so much about you, and we’re
so
happy to meet you!”

“Amen to that!” declared Miss Honi.

They all trooped into the house. Miss Honi unearthed a game of Boggle from one of the storage cupboards—a relic from Lindsay’s girlhood—and enlisted Grant, Jeremiah, and Bella to play while Lindsay and Kerrie Ann got supper on the table. After much hooting and hollering and wild accusations of cheating, Bella emerged the winner.

“I’m afraid you had an unfair advantage, young lady,” said Grant, pulling a serious face that didn’t mask the twinkle in his eye. “Being as you’re so much smarter than the rest of us.”

“I am?” Bella regarded him just as seriously.

“’Course you are, sugar,” said Miss Honi. “Folks don’t get smarter with age; they just get their heads crammed full of more stuff.”

Kerrie Ann laughed. “What Miss Honi is trying to say, sweetie, is that being a grown-up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Speak for yourself,” sniffed Miss Honi. “I’m living proof that a few wrinkles don’t mean you have to hang it up. Even us older gals know how to kick up our heels.”

Bella, in a floral-patterned smock dress that tied in back, ruffled socks, and white patent-leather shoes, studied Miss Honi for a long moment, her lips pursed, before pronouncing, “
I
want to be like
you
when I grow up. I didn’t know grandmas got to wear sparkles and stuff.”

Everyone roared with laughter, Miss Honi loudest of all.

Bella was beaming when they all sat down to supper, and throughout the meal, the smile never left her face. She ate everything on her plate and seemed to revel in being part of such a large group, one that included Chester and the cats, to whom she kept sneaking scraps when she thought no one was looking. Kerrie Ann hadn’t seen her look this happy since before. . .

She pushed away the thought. Things were going to be different from now on.

“So there I was, standing knee-deep in mud, looking at a dead alligator, of all things. . .”

Grant was telling a story about the time he’d traveled to a swamp in the Florida Keys to investigate an alleged case of toxic-waste dumping. Kerrie Ann tuned out the rest. Dinner hadn’t set too well with her, and she was feeling queasy. All the excitement of the day, coupled with a lack of sleep, must be catching up with her. Or perhaps she was coming down with something. She couldn’t even look at dessert, a vanilla cake with fudge icing. She excused herself from the table, barely making it to the bathroom before puking up the contents of her stomach. Afterward she staggered into her room and fell onto the bed with a moan.

Of all the times to get sick! If there were any way she could have dragged herself through the rest of the evening, she’d have done so, but she couldn’t so much as sit up without her stomach threatening to capsize.

Miss Honi fussed over her, and Lindsay fetched her some Alka-Seltzer while the men kept Bella occupied in the next room. Kerrie Ann closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. When she awoke, Jeremiah was standing over her. “You don’t look too good,” he said, peering at her with concern. “Why don’t I take Bella to the movie while you get some rest?”

“But. . .” She started to sit up, and he gently pushed her back down.

“It’s just for a couple of hours. We’ll be back before you know it.”

She felt a feather-brush of unease, but she didn’t want to disappoint her daughter. It might be better if Bella weren’t around her right now; whatever she had might be catching. Besides, what could go wrong? “You’ll come straight home as soon as the movie’s out?”

“You bet,” he said.

She groaned, rolling away from him. She had so looked forward to this visit!
It doesn’t matter what I do
, she thought,
the deck is always stacked against me
.

She drifted back to sleep, and this time it was the sleep of the dead. Hours later, when she was woken by a not-so-gentle shake, it was as if she were being dredged up from the bottom of a pond. She pried open her eyelids to find her sister standing over her, wearing a worried look. The room was dark except for the light spilling in from the hallway. Kerrie Ann’s head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton balls, and her mouth tasted like something had crawled down her throat and died. “What time is it?” she muttered groggily.

“Almost eleven,” Lindsay informed her.

“Where’s Bella?”

“They’re not back yet.”

Kerrie Ann quickly calculated that it had been more than two hours since the movie had let out. She felt a pulse of alarm as she struggled into an upright position. “Did you try Jeremiah’s cell?”

“At least a dozen times. I keep getting his voice mail.”

“He must’ve forgotten to recharge it.”

“Even so, you’d think he could’ve gotten to a phone by now.”

“Maybe his car broke down.” She didn’t want to think about what else might be keeping him.

“I checked with the highway patrol. Nothing’s been reported.” Lindsay sank down on the mattress. “I didn’t want to worry you. I know you’re not feeling well. But frankly,
I’m
worried.”

Kerrie Ann was worried as well, but some of the old obstinance kicked in nonetheless. “Why? Don’t you trust Jeremiah?”

Lindsay gave her a searching look. “Do
you
?”

Kerrie Ann’s first impulse was to defend him. Would she have sent her daughter off with a man she didn’t trust, even if he was her father? Of course not. She
did
trust Jeremiah . . . or at least she had until now. At the moment, she didn’t know what to think.

The alarm now clanging in her head sent her lurching off the bed. For a minute she thought she might throw up again, but she fought back the waves of nausea. She couldn’t afford to be sick right now.

She reached for the phone, punching in Jeremiah’s number, but, like Lindsay, all she got was his voice mail. “Damn!” She turned to Lindsay. “Can I borrow your car?” If nothing else, she could cruise the streets looking for them. Jeremiah’s pimpmobile would be hard to miss.

“You’re in no shape to be driving,” Lindsay told her. “
I’ll
go.”

“No! She’s my kid.
I’m
the one who let her go off with that. . . that fuckup.” She felt a sudden surge of anger toward Jeremiah. He might have a perfectly good excuse for the delay, but couldn’t he at least have made sure his cell phone battery was charged?

“All right. We’ll both go,” Lindsay said, seeing that Kerrie Ann wasn’t going to back down.

Kerrie Ann grabbed her jacket and cell phone and met Lindsay at the door. Grant had long since gone home. Only Miss Honi was there to see them off. The old woman stood in the entryway, in her pink dressing gown and hairnet, her lined face etched with concern. “Call if there’s any news,” she said as they raced out the door.

Soon the sisters were cruising the streets downtown in Lindsay’s Volvo. At the Rialto, they asked the elderly ticket taker if he’d seen a man and a little girl who fitted Jeremiah’s and Bella’s descriptions. He hadn’t.

Heading back to the highway, they drove south all the way to Davenport before turning back. The only abandoned vehicle they spotted along the way was a pickup truck with a blown tire down by Lighthouse Point. Nowhere did they spy Jeremiah’s white Caddie.

Lindsay phoned the police as soon as they got back to the house, this time to report a missing child. By the time the cops arrived, Kerrie Ann was barely keeping it together.

“Ma’am, do you have reason to believe your daughter might’ve been kidnapped?” inquired the older of the two cops, a Hispanic man with a coal-black mustache and cropped gray hair.

Kerrie Ann shook her head, fighting back the waves of nausea rolling through her. She must have looked unsure because he exchanged a glance with his partner, a younger, skinnier guy with longish hair.

“So to the best of your knowledge, your husband—excuse me, ex-boyfriend—wasn’t unhappy with whatever custody arrangements you two have?” asked the skinny cop.

“No.” She wondered if she ought to inform them that she had no more legal rights than Jeremiah at this point but decided that would only complicate matters. “He . . . he had some personal problems, but he was getting his life together. Things were going good.”

Lindsay put it more bluntly. “What she’s trying to say is that he’s a recovering addict.”

Kerrie Ann gave her a sharp look, but Lindsay didn’t flinch.
This is too important to mess around
, her eyes communicated. And she was right, of course.

The officers’ expressions became even more grave, and they exchanged another look. The older cop scribbled something in his notepad. “That’s helpful to know,” he said.

“I don’t think he—” Kerrie Ann started to say she didn’t think Jeremiah was using again but quickly shut her mouth. She knew better than anyone how insidious the disease was, how it could fool you into thinking everything was fine when it wasn’t. Could she truly vouch for him? The other night, when he’d talked her out of going to the meeting, she’d wondered if he was headed for a fall. They warned about it in the program: the tendency to think the worst was behind you once you were over the hump. Sometimes that was all it took.