So many new clues should have had Robin running around the state of Maryland for a month. But, as they say, life intervened. Robin had taken off all the time her supervisor would allow; the full-time search had to be put aside while she went back to work. It felt good to be back in her usual routine, she thought. And finally, the weather was warm and Baltimore was pretty again. A cold March had at last become a warm and sunny May.
Robin passed by her car every morning and then turned onto Light Street for the quick walk around the harbor to her office. Spring days were busy days at the aquarium and Robin knew her time would be filled with all the school groups coming to visit. Buses pulled up in front of the harborside attraction every day in April and May. On weekends, there were band trips and scout trips and a wedding every Saturday and Sunday. And then there was the Aquarium’s own annual gala in June. As the days grew longer so did Robin’s work schedule. As part of the events department, she had to meet school buses every morning, organize the tours and make sure there were enough seats at the dolphin presentation for all those schoolchildren. She directed teachers to good places for lunch and safe spots along the water for children to have a picnic.
She squeezed in meetings with brides and their mothers and occasionally their wedding planners. (If it weren’t for the wedding planners, Robin would have always enjoyed these meetings, she had thought more than once.) She did her best to make sure the brides got the weddings of their dreams and the Aquarium survived those dreams -- the things brides asked for, she thought. She had turned down several SCUBA weddings for fear of alarming some of the more fragile denizens of the deep. Then she came in early on weekends to attend to the multitude of arrangements for the wedding receptions.
Robin considered herself lucky that the gala wasn’t her responsibility, but the committee members called constantly with questions about everything from tents to tables to valet parking. Her files were already open as she helped brides plan weddings so she took the extra questions in stride.
Here it was another pretty spring Friday, another full aquarium. It happened this way every year. Hordes of middle school children would arrive looking a little insulted that they had to wear matching T-shirts or name tags or some other identifying mark. They’d file into the dark corridors of the harborside building and slowly, little groups would disappear around corners, up the escalators, down the ramp to the shark tanks. The looks of insult faded away. In their place were smiles, conspiratorial glances, actual curiosity at the strange sea creatures in the tanks in front of them. Robin liked to watch the transformation. It was one of the things she liked best about the place. She remembered her own first visit. Not enthralled by a day spent looking at slimy, scaly fish, she had begged her mother to let her stay home. She even had to wear her blue and white uniform -- couldn’t she just die?!
But her mother wasn’t giving in. Well, perhaps she gave in a little. She slipped a $10 bill into Robin’s hand and suggested she go to the Cheesecake Factory or one of the other Harborplace restaurants for a treat during their free time afterwards.
Diane knew her daughter had a weakness for sweets. And of course the ploy worked.
Only, Robin remembered as she watched three long-legged 12 year olds giggle over the seahorses, she had never made it to Harborplace. She had discovered the rain forest on the top floor of the aquarium. This place was filled with birds and exotic creatures and trees. It seemed to be at the top of the world with a bird’s eye view of the Inner Harbor. She’d fallen in love with the sloth curled up in the crotch of a tree and become smitten with the iguana that looked like it would fall off the branch it clung to. Scarlet ibises and tanagers and a rainbow-hued flock of birds had entranced her. Robin wasn’t ready to go home when the bus arrived. She decided that day she would someday work here.
Robin shook off the moment of reverie to look at her watch. Meeting in five, she thought. I’ll take the back stairs. As she opened the door, she heard a thump and a squeal below her. She rushed down the metal steps to find a tiny blonde child holding onto a bloody knee.
“What happened?” she asked her.
“I fell,” the girl answered simply.
“Yes, I see that. Let me look at your knee,” Robin replied gently, peeling the little girl’s hands off a very scraped up knee.
“Ooooh,” she said, hoping she sounded sympathetic. She could see the child was trying very hard not to cry. “I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”
“No, it’s okay.” The girl tried to stand up and get away from Robin. With fine golden strands falling in her eyes and a look of reserve, the child clearly was afraid. “I better go and find my friends,” she said as she backed away. “I lost them and thought this might be the way. But I tripped off the last step.”
“Come with me. We’ll clean up your knee and then find your friends,” Robin said and helped her collect her sweatshirt and flowery quilted backpack. She stooped once more to pick up a wayward cell phone. “I’ve got a first aid kit in my office.”
Robin’s cramped office was just around the corner from the stairs. The black metal furniture was cold and sterile looking. Robin had done her best to warm it up with a fish-themed cloth on the round table where she met clients. She’d cluttered her already-cluttered desk with photos of her friends and family. At least she had a nice view of Federal Hill, she always thought when the look of her office got her down. And she often found herself looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows between tasks. Of course, when it got warm, she would reluctantly close the blinds to the glittering harbor and curious tourists passing by.
“Sit down,” she told the little girl. “What’s your name?”
“Robbie,” the child answered and pushed a stray hair out of her eye. She glanced at her phone as if she was waiting for a text message.
“Go ahead. It’s okay if you want to text your friends. Tell them you’re here and you’ll meet them in five minutes in the rain forest.”
“Really?” Robbie said and she flipped open the phone. Robin couldn’t help feeling sorry for the little lost girl. She watched her fingers fly over the tiny keyboard as the nervousness that had tensed her face and arms faded away.
“Okay?” Robin said as the child looked up.
“Yeah. That’s where they’re going next. They said they’ll wait for me.”
Robin pulled the first aid kit out of her top file drawer and quickly cleaned up the child’s knee. It looked worse than it was. Two band-aids covered the scrape.
“I know where this picture was taken,” Robbie said, reaching for a photo on Robin’ desk.
“You do? Where?”
“It’s the lighthouse at St. Michael’s. My mom likes to go there. She takes me in the summer.”
“Yes, that’s right. My mom liked to take my sister and me there, too. That’s all of us and my grandmother in that picture.”
“Which one is you?”
“I’m the little one. My dad took that picture the summer my sister went to college. What school do you go to, Robbie?”
“Stevensville Middle School, over on the Eastern Shore.” she answered as she glanced at her buzzing phone. “I gotta go now. My friends...”
“I understand,” Robin said and escorted her up the elevator to the rain forest exhibit.
“Thanks,” the child shouted back as she ran off to her friends.
Robin felt her phone buzz. “Yes, sorry,” she said and turned around. “A minor emergency with one of the schoolchildren. Yes, another one. Why do I always seem to find them? I’ll be right there.”
Her hectic day finally came to an end. She rushed home, found her iPod and her recipe for an almond biscotti. After a quick trip to the market for some ingredients and dinner, she planned to spend the weekend in the kitchen. She hadn’t had much time for baking recently and she had decided tonight she needed the comfort of a warm oven filled with something sweet and fragrant. Tomorrow would be too busy.
Just as she headed out the door, the phone rang. Robin sighed and wondered if she shouldn’t let it just go to voice mail. Yes, she decided and then waited to hear if it was Jane or Jim or, please no, she thought, someone at work.
“Miss Browne, this is George Foster. I promised to call and hoped I’d have good news by now. The thing is I haven’t had time to do much research. But I did want to let you know, I hope to have more time next week. I’ve got a big client and the work is almost finished. I’ll call again next week so we can get together. I guess that’s it,” he told the answering machine. “Well, uhm, good-bye.”
Robin shook her head. Oh well, that’s not a good sign, she thought as she picked up her keys to lock her door.
She turned on her iPod, tuned out the noises of the streets and the stress of the week. She let the rhythm of the songs determine how fast she walked as she turned down the street. Robin tried to forget about the private investigator’s call, the search for her sister and her own mixed feelings about it. She’d been on her own for a long time now and enjoyed quiet times like this, especially when she found her schedule pulling her in multiple directions.
Tonight’s walk wasn’t entirely about getting to the store. As a singer sang softly into Robin’s ears of lost love and lost opportunity. Robin, however, heard the beat not the words and her pace slowed as she took her time admiring the lush blooms in neighbors’ window boxes and looking at trinkets in shop windows. By the time she got to the market, the tensions of the day had dissipated. The worries about her sister had been pushed away. Robin wasn’t really thinking about anything more than the recipe in her hand. She forced herself to think about only that. Tomorrow, she would be busy again: work around the house, dinner with Jim, brunch with Jane and Parker on Sunday, a call to her mother, a backyard desperately in need of her attention.
The days ran together in May. She worked so hard during the weekends she wanted nothing more than a relaxed weekend at home. She made time to hang out with Jim or Jane if she wasn’t with Parker.
And then she’d feel guilty about the house and get to work on projects that needed doing. Houses in general need regular attention; 100-year-old Federal Hill rowhouses need constant maintenance. Robin had discovered a leaky pipe dripping water into her living room one Thursday night. She found a plumber and then a dry wall guy who worked on weekends. Then another weekend was spent painting the repaired ceiling. Grandmother’s sofa would need to be replaced, she thought glumly, as she cleaned up the paint supplies.
Robin found it easier than she expected to fall back into her old schedule of work and domestic responsibilities. No, she thought, she was relieved to be back to her old ways. She wasn’t exhausted anymore, something she didn’t even realize until she woke up fully rested one rare quiet Saturday late in May.
The rain beating against the bedroom window woke her up early. Robin had planned to sleep in for a change. A wedding had been scheduled at the aquarium for this afternoon but was cancelled when the couple eloped the previous weekend. She had the whole day to do, well, nothing. Jim was out of town, at a family birthday party. She had had to turn down the invitation to join him because of the wedding.
The sound of the rain was soothing but Robin decided against staying in bed. Too many things to do, she thought.
Coffee first...then a morning spent reading the whole newspaper. Even finishing the always-difficult Saturday crossword puzzle. After lunch, maybe the rain would stop and she could walk down to the Cross Street Market. Perhaps she’d go even if the rain didn’t let up. She’d call her mother and ask her and Ray to come to dinner tomorrow. Diane had had a busy spring in Havre de Grace and hadn’t been able to talk much.
Change of plans, she thought when the phone rang.
“Miss Browne?” the caller asked. Robin recognized the voice of the private investigator. “George Foster here. I promised I’d call.”
“Yes, Mr. Foster,” she answered. “Any news?”
“It’s not going well,” he said. “I’ve been swamped, you see. This divorce investigation has been quite complicated.”
“You still haven’t looked, have you?”
“Well, it’s not that I haven’t thought about it,” he began. “I’ve got a partner that’s going to help me out and he’s coming on next week. I expect to have something for you very soon.”
Robin felt her patience fading away. “Okay,” she said, not seeing any point in getting angry. And she hung up.
As soon as she had returned to her crossword puzzle, the phone rang again.
“Is this Robin Browne?” the caller asked, obviously nervous.
“Mmm-hmm,” Robin said, filling in 4-Down on her crossword puzzle.
“I’m sorry to bother you but a friend of yours gave me your number. I hesitated to call; I’ve had your number for several weeks, in fact. Your friend thought maybe you’d be interested in what I have to say and suggested you would call me. When you didn’t, I decided to call you.”
Robin found herself growing suspicious. She thought at first she had a tele-marketer on the line, but this woman wasn’t selling anything. She put down her pen when she realized she should pay attention. Still irritated by Foster’s call, she grew impatient with this new caller.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“My name is Debbie Caine. I live in Easton and a couple of weeks ago I met your friend Bill at the University of Delaware,” she said. “He suggested I call you. I didn’t want to impose at first but...”
“You’re the woman who thinks she saw my sister in Europe, aren’t you?” Robin threw her newspaper aside and stood up. She walked to the living room and found herself gazing once again at her sister’s photos. “What can I do for you?”
“Your friend told me your story, about how you had learned your sister was alive after believing she was dead. I don’t know for sure if I met her but I think I did and thought you might want to know. If I’m bothering you, I’m sorry. It was just one of those moments...you know, when you see someone from where you live and you say something, laugh and, well, feel awkward. I guess I shouldn’t have called. Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you. Good-bye,” the caller said, the words tumbling quickly from the phone.
“No!” Robin found herself shouting. “Don’t hang up!”
She lowered her voice and forced a smile. “I mean, yes, thanks for calling. I’d really like to hear your story.”
There was no denying it. Whenever Robin found herself encountering a clue to Eleanor’s whereabouts, she couldn’t help feeling curious, even wistful, and longing for the day she’d see her sister again.
Before she could say another word, however, she heard her cell phone buzzing from the kitchen. She ran in and picked it up, glanced at the number and turned back to the phone.
“I’m sorry but I can’t talk now. I will be in Easton Tuesday. Maybe we could meet then.”
“Um, oh, no. I have a meeting all day. I just can’t get away,” she said.
“Evening then? I’ll meet you for dinner?”
“I don’t think so, my son has baseball pract—” Debbie stopped herself. “Yes, dinner’s good. Do you know Scozza’s? It’s across from the courthouse.”
“No, but I can find it. I know where the courthouse is. How about 6 o’clock?” Robin said, wondering how she’d ever get to Easton by then.
“Let’s make it seven so I can get dinner made before I go out,” Debbie said. “Can’t let everybody starve while I eat out,” she said with a weak laugh.
“Okay, that’s doable,” Robin said, “I’ll see you then.”
Robin hung up the phone, only to dial another number.
“Jane! Sorry I didn’t pick up. I was on the phone, the other phone. What’s up?”
“I have to run an errand and I want some company,” Jane complained. “Are you free?”
“Well... My wedding was canceled and Jim’s out of town and I’m curled up with the crossword puzzle.”
“Oooh. Don’t you have all the fun? Want to go to the beach? Maybe until Monday?”
“On Memorial Day weekend? We’ll never get a place this late.”
“Already got one,” her friend replied. “Parker’s aunt has a condo in Lewes. She hasn’t been able to get down there since Christmas and she needs someone to turn the heat off. Parker’s away with his frat buddies. Anyway, I offered to go down. I thought you might like to go with me.”
“I don’t know about a whole weekend. I have so much to do around here,” Robin countered.
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t,” Robin agreed, relenting. “When do you want to go?”
“I’m at your front door.” The door bell rang.
Robin didn’t even hang up the phone before opening the door to her friend. Jane looked like summer in spite of the rainy weather. Sunglasses on her head, white shorts, blue and white striped shirt and boat shoes, she swept into the house and dropped a huge canvas tote.
“Aren’t you cold?” Robin asked, looking down at her own fuzzy slippers, flannel pajamas and thick pink terry robe.
“I’m ready for summer. Weather channel says it is going to be 75 once the rain goes away.”
“You’re even tanned. Been visiting one of those cancer salons?”
“No,” Jane said with a wide smile. “This is chemically-induced.”
Jane looked around and saw her friend’s coffee cup. “Go get dressed and I’ll have a cup of coffee. Oh, and finish your puzzle. Go. I’d like to get there before noon.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Robin bounded up the steps, excited by the prospect of a weekend in Lewes. It was her favorite beach resort -- even if the town wasn’t really on the beach. She loved the quaint town and the wonderful restaurants. It was quiet, not like the other beach towns. A great place to relax.
Trusting her friend’s weather forecast, Robin filled her overnight bag with shorts and t-shirts. She unearthed her sunglasses from her dresser and grabbed a sweatshirt. Might as well be safe instead of cold.
Pulling on her jeans, she slipped the bag over her shoulder and headed back downstairs.
“Wait until you hear the latest,” Robin called to her friend as she reached the landing.
Jane had turned on the television and stood in front of it. She didn’t even move when Robin spoke to her.
“What’s going on?” Robin looked at the news report and uncomprehending she turned to her friend and saw the shock etched on her face.
“Jane, what’s happened?”
“There’s been a terrible accident on the bay bridge. Look, there’s a truck in the water.”
“What?! How did it get there?”
“It went over the side of the bridge. Oh poor man. Oh, that’s so horrible.”
The two friends stood in front of the television and watched the news until commercials interrupted the report.
“No chance of getting across the bridge today, Robin.”
“Want to call it off?”
“No, I promised I’d go. We’ll have to drive around the bay. Oh, we’ll be going right past your mother’s -- want to stop in?”
“Maybe tomorrow? On the way home?” Robin replied, a frown on her face.
“You don’t want to see your mother? You always want to see your mother.”
“I know but she’s not happy with me at the moment. She’s upset about Ellen.”
“Why?”
“Oh, you know. I’ll tell you in the car. Let’s get going.”
“Did you turn off the coffee pot?” Jane asked as she stepped back into the rain.
“No,” Robin turned around, raced into the kitchen to turn off the coffeemaker, switch off the lights and take a last look around her house before locking the door.
Chapter 25
The sun did come out as Robin and Jane arrived in Lewes. The Delaware town was packed with visitors, people like Jane who believed the Weather Channel’s optimistic forecast for this Memorial Day weekend. They came by car and they came by ferry from New Jersey. At long as there was sunshine, Lewes was a good place for a short escape: colorful Victorian houses and inns, chic shops and lots of them, and some of the best restaurants around. And then there was Lewes’ history. Museums around town told the history of Delaware’s oldest capital, its brush with war, its witness to shipwrecks.
Jane slid her car into a parking lot under a squat modern condominium building beyond the downtown historic district. Although the town had turned its back on the waterfront, it was just a short walk across the canal to the beach. The once-neglected waterfront was now lined with plenty of condos and houses built in recent years.
The two old friends left their bags in the car to explore their weekend digs. “Parker said the only thing going for this place is the view. So don’t get too excited,” Jane said as she unlocked the door.
“But what a view!” Robin said as she walked inside to the wall of sliding doors that overlooked the Delaware Bay. She walked past the decrepit furniture and over the dirt brown carpet to see waves lapping at the sandy shore. Plastic furniture chained to the porch railing had been blown over by the wind and was dotted with mildew. Salt obscured the view so Robin slid open the door to hear the cries of seagulls swooping past and the flap of flags flying on the next condo’s porch railing. The wind that blew past her smelled of salt. It was cold but not as cold as Robin expected.
“This is a dump,” Jane said, picking up lumpy pillows from the couch and pushing cushions back into place. She wandered into the galley kitchen and surveyed the assortment of out of date appliances and peeked into the refrigerator. “It’s not even cold,” she said, closing the door. “I wonder if it’s broken.”
“Robin, are you listening to me?”
No, instead, Robin had leaned against the splintered wooden rail and watched a mother and little girl fly a kite on the beach. Nearby, a younger boy in a wheelchair clapped his hands as the butterfly-shaped kite caught the wind and flew over the water’s edge.
They were the only people on the beach. The wind was chilly and certainly the water was too cold for swimming. But dressed in sweatshirts and hats, the three of them looked warm and happy. Robin found herself envying them. She remembered days like this when her family would go to Sandy Point to play on the beach that overlooked the Chesapeake Bay and the bay bridge. Her father was the one who liked to fly kites. He bought them all the time. Cheap ones from the dime store and brightly colored high tech wonders with special tails and complicated instructions that he studied before sending the kite up into the air. But it was inevitable. Every one of those kites would come crashing down. Kites didn’t last too long in their unskilled hands. Dad always got mad. Mom always laughed. Robin and her sister wondered if they’d ever learn to fly a kite. They didn’t. Instead, her father discovered sailing. If they couldn’t harness the wind’s power with a kite, they could harness it with a jib and a tiller. Every Sunday from May through October, the four of them piled into their little boat and took on the wind.
“Robin, what are you doing? Have you seen this place?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” Robin replied, still looking out.
“Then you haven’t been looking.”
Robin turned to see her friend with her nose turned up and a distinct frown on her face. “This place is a dump. I don’t know how we’re going to stay here. It’s horrible.”
“Jane, it can’t be that bad,” Robin said and slipped past her to look around the house. Lumpy couch cushions weren’t so bad, she thought. The colors are awfully dingy for a beach house.
When Robin turned into the master bedroom, she saw a mattress lying on the floor and no other furniture. The bathroom walls were streaked with soap scum, mildew and some other greenish substance Robin didn’t want to think about.
“Yeah, when you’re right, you’re right,” Robin couldn’t help but laugh at her distressed friend. She couldn’t imagine turning out the lights in this place. What would come crawling out?
“We can’t stay here. We just can’t.
“Sure we can,” Robin thought about the horrible places in Ocean City she used to stay during college breaks. Carpet peeling off the walls, yes the walls...broken wooden crate furniture...orange shag carpet that reminded her of Tang...floors that were so filthy...”Sure we can. It’ll be okay. As long as we don’t eat here.”
“No problem, I don’t think the appliances work anyway.”
“Remind me. Why did you have to come down?
“To ‘check’ on the place. I’m calling Parker to ask if his aunt is insane to live here.”
“Jane, it’s a nice afternoon. We’re at the beach! Let’s go find you a new sun-dress and — oh what the hell — let’s splurge and have dinner at the Buttery. Maybe they’ll even have the porch open.”
“But we still have to sleep here...”
“Well, we’ll just have to go to Gilligan’s for a few drinks before we come home. Then we’ll turn on a movie —”
“Let me see if the TV works. Do you see a remote?”
“Let’s go. I’m thinking something bright with stripes, maybe.”
“And perhaps a large bottle of bug spray. And bleach. And Lysol. We have to take a shower tomorrow.”
“We can rough it,” Robin said, dragging her friend out the door. She looked around, shivered and shook her head. It really was pretty bad. She put her sunglasses on and turned her thoughts to the lovely afternoon ahead of her.
Chapter 26
The condo, it turned out, was as horrid at night as the two women feared. But the reason wasn’t bugs or smells or bacteria.
It was a party next door. High school students had crowded into the condo to celebrate the end of exams. Lots of students and lots of beer and lots of loud music. And it lasted all night. Around 4 Robin and Jane decided they couldn’t stand the shouting and the vomiting off the balcony even a minute longer. They checked the heat, turned off the water, locked the door and started home. An hour later, they pulled off the road when they spotted an all-night diner. The only person that they could see inside was a tired-looking waitress, coffee pot already in hand.
“Coffee, girls?” she asked them.
“Yes, please,” Jane said, slipping into a red vinyl booth. “And can you turn down the lights so I can get a little sleep?”
“Ignore her. I’d like coffee, too. And a doughnut. What kind do you have?”
“Honey-dipped. Your friend want one, too?”
“Oh what the heck. Sure,” Jane said and slumped down in the seat, leaning her head against the plate glass window.
The friends sat quietly for a long time, sipping coffee and nibbling at fresh, warm doughnuts. The waitress returned twice to refill their cups and bring two more doughnuts before either said a word.
Robin watched as sunlight began to fill the sky. Jane hardly moved. Her breathing was deep and regular and Robin was convinced she was sleeping. She marveled how Jane could sleep anywhere anytime. No, that wasn’t quite true. She hadn’t been able to sleep at the condo.
“Jane, wake up,” she whispered.
“I am awake. I’m just thinking about sleeping.”
“I figure we’re only about an hour from my mother’s place. Why don’t we get back on the road and go sleep there for a couple of hours?”
“Really? That’s a good idea. I’m getting a crick in my neck sitting here.”
Jane waved to the waitress for the check and they headed back north on Route 1.
“You know I can’t get over the condo,” Jane said as they passed the Dover NASCAR track. “I wonder why it’s in such bad shape.”
“Nobody’s been there all winter, right?”
“Yeah, but it looks like nobody’s been there for a decade,” Jane countered.
“When it’s your place and you don’t have to worry about what others think, maybe you don’t notice it’s bad. Maybe Parker’s aunt liked it that way — except for the crud in the bathroom. Ewww. Think about it. If you had spent every summer in the same condo, the furniture might get worn but you wouldn’t care. Everything would have a memory attached to it. This is the chair where I read to the baby. Here’s where little Susie learned to walk. You know how sentimental old people get.”
“I know how sentimental some young people get, too. And you know who I mean,” Jane took her eyes off the road to look at her friend.
“Me!? I’m not sentimental.”
“Yes you. Look at your house. Whose furniture is in there? Have you bought one new piece of furniture since you moved there? No? I didn’t think so.”
“But it’s all good.”
“No, it’s not. It’s old and old-fashioned. Except for the kitchen table — the dings give it character — and that great old chair with the swan arms. Those are great pieces but if it were my house I’d throw it all out and start over.”
Robin couldn’t believe her ears. She thought Jane loved her old house as much as she did.
Jane saw the hurt look make its way onto her friend’s face. “Oh, don’t listen to me. I’m tired and don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I think you do mean it. I bet you’ve wanted to say that for a long time.”
“Well, not a long time. Just since I refinished my house. I never cared about that stuff but once I started working on my own place I got a little more, well, critical. I always liked your grandmother’s house. I just began wondering when you would get around to making it your house. It’s a good house, Robin. really,” Jane shot her a smile, hoping to smooth over the ruffled feathers.
“I just never thought about it. The way it is, sometimes I feel like my grandmother’s just in the other room. It’s comfortable.”
“I know, Robin. I know. It’s fine.”
They continued on to Havre de Grace in silence. There wasn’t much to see: one continuous line of gas stations, strip shopping centers and chain hotels. Even the road was perfectly flat and the vista was flat, too. The sun came up brightly and soon the road was filled with cars.
Robin found herself drifting off to sleep as Jane’s words about her house echoed through her mind.
She found herself remembering a Saturday afternoon just before Easter. It was traditional in their family to gather to make a special bread for the next day’s Easter breakfast. As usual, Jane came with her.
As she and Jane dyed the eggs while her mother and grandmother kneaded the dough, they argued about who started the tradition. In this small family, there really weren’t too many options.
“I think your aunt Grace got the recipe from her mother,” Diane said to her mother.
“I know we’ve been making it a long time,” Diane’s sister Margaret replied. “I know we started making this even before I moved to Kent Island.”
“No, back then we used to make Easter eggs from my mother’s recipe,” said Alice, their mother. “ — until everybody went on a diet and refused to eat them anymore.”
“Oh yes, that’s right. I’d forgotten the eggs. Weren’t they good?”
“Too good. Your Italian husband’s mother showed us how to make the bread,” Alice reminded Margaret. “She’s long gone and we’re still making her bread.”
Robin was considered too young to form the braided loaves, though she longed to try. Her grandmother tore off a small piece of her dough and handed it to her. “Knead this and then I’ll show you how to braid it,” Alice told Robin and winked. Robin loved it when her grandmother winked at her. She felt a special bond..
Robin kneaded the warm, sweet dough, watching it ooze between her fingers. It didn’t look like the smooth ball her grandmother had under her hands.
Ellen burst into the kitchen. “Yikes! the bread ladies are at it again,” she said, leaning over to kiss her mother.
“You’re late,” Diane said.
“Rehearsal ran over,” she said.
“You’d think you were the lead as much time as you spend at school,” Alice said.
“I know. I know. But we all have to be there for the dress rehearsals. Even the peons in the chorus.”
“Even the peons in the chorus who can’t sing,” Robin snickered.
“Oh you,” Ellen said and threw flour at her. Robin responded with her own floury salvo.
“Ladies! Not in my kitchen!” Alice scolded her granddaughters. She handed her dough to Ellen. “Here. Get braiding while I show your sister how to do it.”
“Robin, wake up! You have to show me the way to your mom’s house,” Jane called to her friend as she drove past the wharf at the edge of Havre de Grace.
“Huh? Oh, it’s right on that corner.”
Jane pulled her car up to the curb in front of a white clapboard house wrapped with a wide porch. It really didn’t fit Robin’s mother, she thought. The paint was peeling on the window trim. The walkway was cracked and one of the green shutters was askew.
Robin didn’t seem to notice as she bounded up the sidewalk and tried the front door. It was locked so she rang the bell.
Andrew answered the door. “Well, look who’s here? And so early, too.”
“Sorry we’re so early. It’s a long story. Is Mom up?”
“I’ve been trying to call you since yesterday. Your mom isn’t well.”
“Not well? What’s wrong?” Robin pushed past Andrew and looked up the stairs.
“Don’t go up just yet. She’s still asleep. Finally. Won’t you have a seat? Can I get you some coffee?”
Andrew directed the two women to the living room sofa and they sank down into a flowery overstuffed cushion.
“No, thanks, Andrew.”
“I’d like some, thanks,” Jane interjected.
While they waited for the coffee, Robin got up to go up to her mother’s room. “Robin, let her sleep. If she’s sick, she needs to sleep.”
“I don’t remember my mother ever being sick. Ever,” Robin said and returned to the sofa.
Andrew returned with two cups of coffee. “Just in case,” he said.
“Andrew—”
“Just a moment. I’ll get the cream and sugar. Anyone need a Danish?”
He returned, deposited the sugar bowl and plate of pastries.
“Andrew, tell me what’s wrong?”
“Don’t know really. She went to the doctor’s on Friday. Diane hasn’t been sleeping for weeks. She’s been complaining of nightmares. Last night was the first time she spent the whole night in bed in quite some time.”
“What did the doctor say?” Robin asked.
“What could he say? Lots of people her age have trouble sleeping. He said she was probably stressed, maybe feeling a little achy. He gave her a prescription for a sleeping pill. I had to insist she try it. She wouldn’t take it Friday night but last night she did.”
“And?”
“And she’s been asleep since about 10 p.m. Fell asleep long before the news came on. I tried to call you yesterday but I didn’t get an answer either at your house or on your cell.”
Robin reached into her purse for her cell phone. “I don’t know when I switched it off. It’s never off.”
“Anyway, she said something about wanting to talk to you so it’s good you stopped by.”
“I haven’t talked to Mom in a couple of weeks. We’ve been playing telephone tag.”
“I think I hear her now,” Andrew said and turned to go upstairs. “I’ll tell her you’re here. She may want to ‘put on her face’ before you come up. You know how she is.” Andrew, dressed in frayed cutoffs and a sun-bleached sailing t-shirt, smiled and rolled his eyes.
Yes, Robin knew how she liked to be “presentable.”
“You told me your mother was upset with you before we headed to Lewes. You never did tell me why,” Jane said in a whisper.
“She told me about the nightmares. She said my looking for Ellen caused her to dredge up all the old memories. She asked me to stop looking,” Robin said.
Jane saw the look of pain cross her friend’s face and took her hand. “I know this has been hard on you, kid. But maybe your mother is right.”
Robin turned with surprise to her friend. “Did you just hear yourself? One, you said my mother was right. Traitor. And two, you asked me to stop looking for Ellen.”
“I don’t think this is doing you any good — and it looks like it’s not doing your mother any good, either.”
“Girls, come on up.”
“You go up, Robin. You really need to talk to her.”
Robin tiptoed up the steps slowly, unsure about seeing her mother feeling unwell. She peered around the corner and into her mother‘s room.
Diane’s room didn’t look anything like the room Robin remembered from her childhood. Where that room was tailored with dark silk curtains and heavy colonial furniture, this room was, well, frilly. Dotted swiss and lace curtains swathed the huge windows. A white comforter with giant red cabbage roses was sliding off the bed. Bedside tables were draped in the same fabric. The walls were covered with another floral print. In the middle of it all, Diane leaned against a white painted iron headboard, cushioned by a dozen pink silk pillows.
“Hello, dear,” Diane called when she caught sight of her daughter.
Again, Robin hesitated and then strode in. “Hi, Mom. What’s wrong with you? I mean: How are you?”
“Nice to see you, too, dear.” She smiled, obviously pleased to see her daughter as Robin leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“So what’s going on, Mom?” Robin asked as she pulled up a tiny pink silk slipper chair.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little insomnia,” Diane said, pulling at a thread on her comforter.
“You’ve always had a little insomnia. I even have a little insomnia now and then. You don’t go to the doctor for it,” Robin said.
Diane folded her hands and looked at them for a moment before looking up at her daughter. Robin waited, wondering what could possibly be the matter.
“I’ve been having nightmares,” Diane finally said.
“You told me. You told me you were waking up remembering the days when the police were looking for Ellen.”
“Yes, well. My doctor suggests that looking for her again is hurting my health. He suggested that I ask you to stop looking.”
“We’ve been over that. I can’t stop looking now.”
“But, Robin, it’s making me sick. My blood pressure has gotten too high. I’ve had to cut back at work because I can’t make it through the day. Andrew says I cry in my sleep,” Diane said. Robin could tell she meant it. And she remembered that night in London.
“But, Mom...” Robin started to say but didn’t know how to argue with her mother over this.
“I understand how you feel, Robin,” Diane said as she reached over to put her hand on Robin’s. “I know how excited you were when you found out she might still be alive. So was I? But what have you found? Nothing. Not really. Honey, I think it’s time to stop looking. One day, maybe she’ll turn up. If she’s alive, she’ll look for us again someday. I can’t go on with this over my head. I can’t keep looking for signs she might still be alive and then, nothing. I can’t keep up with the disappointment. And really that’s all we have had,” Diane’s voice softened. “She’s gone, Robin. I wish she were still alive, too, but if she were why hasn’t she contacted us? Why can’t we find her?”
Robin felt her arms go numb as her mother talked. She felt light-headed. Instead of looking at her mother, Robin looked beyond her to the window but found she couldn’t focus on the ancient oak outside. She didn’t know what to say.
“Robin?” Diane squeezed her hand.
“Yes. I understand, Mother,” Robin turned back to her mother and smiled weakly. “I don’t want you sick. It’s certainly not worth that. Are you sure this will make you feel better?”
“No,” her mother said frankly and shrugged her shoulders. “But it might and I need to try. I’ve been feeling terrible for nearly two months and it’s only getting worse.”
Robin was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded her head. “Okay.”
Diane squeezed Robin’s hand again. Then she straightened up a little and tried to look a little brighter. “Tell me, what brings you to Havre de Grace?”
Robin perched on that little chair and described the condo in Lewes and told her about the family she saw on the beach. As she spoke, her mother closed her eyes and slowly fell asleep, nodding and murmuring “Mmm-hmm” to Robin’s comments.
“Mom? Are you asleep?” she finally asked when her mother seemed to be snoring softly.
“C’mon, Robin. She may be asleep for a long time,” Andrew came up behind her to lead her from the room. He turned back to his wife, brushed a stray hair from her forehead and kissed her. “Be right back,” he whispered.
His tenderness surprised Robin. She had considered him a little too rough for her refined mother. Maybe he was okay
“Thanks, Andrew,” she said when she reached the door at the bottom of the stairs. “You’ll let me know how she’s doing, won’t you? Jane, shall we be going?”
“I think maybe she needs you here,” he said. “She’s going to the doctor’s tomorrow. Why don’t you go with her?”
Robin sighed. “But Jane has to get back.”
“Catch a train back to the city from Aberdeen in the morning,” Jane said. She picked up her bag and put her hand out to Andrew. “A pleasure, Andrew. Thanks for the coffee.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Robin said.
“So how is she?” Jane asked before she got back in the car.
“Fine. She’ll be fine. She’s just totally exhausted. She asked me not to keep looking for Ellen. It’s giving her nightmares, she said.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And are you going to do as she asked?”
“Of course.”
“Really? You’re really not going to do another thing to find your sister?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I don’t believe you. Not for a second.”
Robin didn’t answer right away. “Well, I’ll call you later. Andrew asked me to take Mom to see her doctor tomorrow. I should be home soon after that — unless Mom’s not doing better.”
“Call me and I’ll pick you up at Penn Station.”
“I can get a cab.”
“You can call me. It’s a holiday, remember. With Parker off with his friends and you here the only thing I have is correcting essays. I want to know how she is.”
“Thanks.”
“See you.”
Robin walked back to the house and eased into a mildewed chaise longue. She really couldn’t imagine how her mother lived here after her house in Annapolis. The stately brick house was never in disrepair. The trim was always painted. The leaves were raked and the lawn cut. At least that’s the way Robin remembered it, she thought. Who knows what the house looked like the day her parents bought it? Her father spent many a Saturday in the hardware store looking for door knobs or caulk or who knows what else? Her mother was always painting or planting or weeding.
But here, it didn’t look like anyone ever thought about it.
I’m being cranky, Robin stopped herself. She must like him or she would never have moved here. Robin pulled her legs up to her chin and looked down the street. She liked the view: tree lined street with two long, straight rows of old houses. When she looked south, she could see sun glinting off a sliver of river.
“Nice view, isn’t it?”
Andrew handed her a fresh mug of coffee.
“Yes it is,” she agreed. “Thanks.”
“I see why you moved here.”
“I didn’t move here. I was born here,” Andrew said, sitting in a glider at the end of the porch. He looked down the street at the river.
Robin looked at him. “I didn’t know that.” She wondered what he looked like as a young man. Probably not much different from the man sitting here. His hair was mostly gray and she wondered how many days a week he shaved. He had a grizzled look, with deep lines in his dark tanned skin. Long and lean, he had muscular arms and big, knobby fingers.
Andrew certainly didn’t look like her father. Her dad had been dark, not too tall. He wore glasses and a had a well-trimmed mustache. He smiled all the time. Andrew seemed so stern, or maybe he was just reserved.
“Is Mom still sleeping?”
“Yeah, Doc gave her sleeping pills. She’s exhausted, Robin. I’ve been real worried about her,” Andrew answered. “I better tell you. It’s not just the nightmares. It’s the alcohol.”
“What!?” Robin shot back. “What?!”
“Calm down. I don’t think it’s bad but I’m worried it could become bad.”
“What are you talking about!?”
“Robin, I know the signs of trouble. I’m an alcoholic myself. Your mother isn’t an alcoholic, I don’t think. But her drinking has gotten worse in the last few months.”
Robin waited for a better explanation. What she heard certainly didn’t sound like her mother.
Andrew told her about her nightly cocktails. He didn’t have any, of course, but she mixed a drink or poured a glass of wine at dinnertime every night. He never worried about it. “Lots of people can have a drink every day and they’re fine. Since you both came back from London, it’s been two drinks. One when she got home from work. One at dinner. Maybe another at bedtime, to help her sleep, she’d say.
“But the problem is,” Andrew continued, still looking down the street to the water, “I can’t find any liquor in the house. There may be a bottle of wine in the fridge but I think she’s hiding the rest and drinking when I’m not around.”
“So?” Robin wasn’t convinced he knew what he was talking about.
“I know about addictions,” he said, answering her skepticism. “I am an alcoholic. Have been since I was 12.”
“Oh!” Robin said, completely flummoxed by this conversation.
“I’m fine, really. And Diane’s the main reason I’m fine now. I can’t lose her.”
“Oh I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Robin said.
Andrew turned to her and smiled. “Yes, she’ll be fine. She’s got you. When I was in trouble, I didn’t have anybody.”
Robin waited to hear what he was going to say next. She’d never heard him say much at all before. This was the first real conversation they’d had since he married her mother.
Instead, he turned and looked at the river, drinking his coffee. How, she wondered, was she going to find out what his story was? She was certainly intrigued. And she was frightened that he might be right about her mother.
“Andrew,” she said, softly. “I don’t understand how a few drinks can hurt my mother.”
“If it’s just a drink or two, she’ll be fine. If she’s drinking other times when I’m not looking, she may be in trouble. That’s what happened to my mother and then that’s what happened to me.”
Robin waited to see if he would continue. He turned and looked down the street again, drank some more coffee and then looked at her.
“I didn’t have a childhood like yours, Robin. You don’t know how lucky you were.
“My dad left us when I was too little to remember him. I don’t know what happened to him. Mom told me he was drowned when he fell off a fishing boat. She raised us, my sister Michelle and me, as best she could. She worked on Route 40 as a motel clerk. We lived here with my grandparents. I think it got to be too much for her. Grandpa had a habit of wandering away and getting lost. Gramma would pack us up with me in a stroller and walk the streets until she found him and brought him home. I don’t remember that, of course. Michelle used to tell me about it later on. Mom would come home and find an empty house with dinner burning in the oven. Beds wouldn’t be made, floors were dirty. She didn’t know where we were — but she had a good idea. I guess she felt like she was taking care of four of us but Gramma spent all her time with us. I remember how she’d sit on the floor with us to play a game or find a chair under a tree in the yard to play ‘Hide and Seek.’” Robin saw a hint of a smile cross Andrew’s face as he remembered her. “She was the only one who could count so she’d count to ten say ‘Ready or not,’ and we’d come running. Clearly we didn’t understand how the game was played but it was fun.
“Anyway, Grandpa got too sick to live with us anymore and went to a nursing home. I guess I was six; I know I was in school. He died at Easter. I was afraid Gramma would die, too. She cried all the time. But she didn’t. She waited for us to come home from school to tell her all about our day, give us cookies and make us do our homework. I couldn’t wait to come home,” he said.
“And how old was Michelle?” Robin asked.
“She was seven. She was my best friend until middle school. Then she got friends, you know how girls are. They are yucky, at least to ten-year-old boys. So I had to find someone else to play with. There were a couple of boys at my bus stop and we started hanging around together. I don’t remember their names anymore, Tommy...and Sam...and I don’t remember the other guy’s name. He moved away.
“You don’t want to hear the story of my life...”
“No, go on. I really don’t know anything about you except what my mother has told me. And she hasn’t told me this,” Robin said truthfully.
“No, I guess not. I’m not sure I’ve told her all this,” Andrew smiled. “Well, long story short. Gramma moved to the nursing home that year and I felt all but abandoned. Mom was working two jobs so I never saw her. Michelle was running around with her friends. And I got into trouble.”
“How much trouble can a ten-year-old get into?” Robin asked.
“I stole cars. Well, not at first. I started going into people’s houses after school. Lots of people went to work and left their back doors unlocked. This is Havre de Grace, not the big city. I figured out I could help myself to a snack — we never had anything good to eat in our house — and then I found cash laying around in some of the houses, or a sweater I wanted, or a toy or something like that. I never got caught. But it made me cocky. I showed my stuff off at school and got a reputation for being a tough guy.
“Then I met the tough guys, eighth graders who weren’t impressed with the little guy. I didn’t know nothing, they said. They dared me to steal something big. I went from stealing potato chips to stealing bikes and lawn furniture. One of them learned how to hot wire a car so we all learned how to hot wire a car. I wasn’t big enough to drive but I knew how to steal one.
“And when my feet could reach the pedals, I stole my first car. And crashed it. Then I got caught.
“The older boys who were with me went to the ‘school for boys’. I went home with my very angry mother. There really wasn’t much she could do. She had to go to work. I had to go to school. After school, she expected me to come home. With my friends gone, I did. And found her liquor. I was 12.”
“And then?”
“Well, Robin, I got hooked. My mom was an alcoholic but I didn’t know that.
“Wait, she had liquor in the house and she was an alcoholic?” Robin interrupted.
“Yeah, I think it was really my Gramma’s. I don’t know. I know she didn’t notice it was disappearing. She wasn’t drinking it. Anyway, as I said she was an alcoholic and one of her ‘jobs’ was an AA meeting. She went every night I found out much later. She was struggling to stay sober while I was stealing cars and getting drunk at the age of 12. Who knows why she didn’t see me getting wasted. I guess nobody expects a little kid to be drinking.
“I didn’t finish high school. I ended up in the ‘school for boys’. It’s a reform school but nobody really gets reformed. All it does is put little boys together and teaches them to be mean little boys. I came out mean and angry. The next time I was going to end up in jail but I didn’t. Doug, he was a friend of my Gramma’s, asked me to work on his boat. God knows why. I was surly. I was too fat to be of much use to him. I was weak and lazy. Lucky for me, I took the job. And I worked hard. I sanded and painted, worked on the engine, sanded and painted some more. And found out I liked it.”
“And then things turned around?”
“Not yet. I was still an alcoholic. I drank all the time. By then I was old enough to buy my own liquor. You could buy beer and wine at 18 in those days and I did.
“I thought I was hiding it but Doug knew. He saw me hungover every morning. He watched me make terrible mistakes and went behind me to fix them. The day I fell in the water was the day he told me to get cleaned up or lose my job. I stormed out and told him, well, I told him off.
“I crashed my mother’s car that night and Doug came to the hospital with a friend. That guy told me he knew where I could get help. He handed me a card for AA. I threw it away but my mom picked it up. She took me to a meeting. She kept taking me to her meetings, kicking and screaming (more like cussing). One day I decided to go on my own. Then it clicked. I’ve stayed clean since then.”
Andrew stood up. “So it’s with good reason I’m worried about your mother.”
“Worried about me?” Diane said as she came out on the porch.
“Yes, I am,” he said, going to her and kissing her forehead. “You haven’t been well.”
“I’m fine, really. I came out to see who you were talking to. I didn’t know Robin was still here.”
“I thought I would spend the night. Jane went back to town and I stayed. I was worried about you, too.”
“My goodness, what a lot of worrying going on about me! But I’m fine, just a little insomnia.”
“I need some fresh air and thought I’d take a walk. Anyone want to go?
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