I didn’t know how much sign language Eli used. “He does enough.”
“Well, if you’re worried about his language acquisition, reading picture books really did wonders for Catherine. They make the connection much quicker and it’s supposed to speed up their reading. We have some old ones from last year if you want to take them off our hands!”
I gave him a vague smile. “That’s really nice of you. We’ve got too much baby stuff already, though. You really have to let them set their own pace.”
“That’s so true.” Justin smiled at me. “Okay, well, I’ll let you go. Sorry for all the baby talk, but this office is so baby-free, I just need to talk to somebody who understands sometimes. I was so thrilled when you said you were going on maternity leave last year!”
I laughed and turned toward the kitchen. I’d spent enough time talking with Justin that it was almost time to leave. In my office, I closed the blinds—something I never did until the end of the day; the striped light from the closed blinds made my office feel cagelike—and gathered my things into my purse.
The appointment with Albert was in an hour. My neck itched as I got into the elevator.
I couldn’t listen to the radio on the way home. The noise set my teeth on edge. I drove in silence, hearing other people’s music wash over from their open windows.
What if she wasn’t there again?
I could feel my pulse in the hollows of my jaw as I pulled into the neighborhood.
She wasn’t on the lawn.
I parked and went inside.
“Robin?” I called, just in case Dave had come home early.
There was no reply.
I wandered through the hall into the kitchen. Two chairs had been pulled out, but she wasn’t there.
“Robin?”
I heard the television click on. I went into the living room.
“Leslie,” Mary said. “You’re home!”
She was stretched out on the couch in cutoffs and a lacy white top, sneakers still on. Bits and pieces of a pizza littered the empty box and the floor around it, and she’d left a wadded-up napkin on the coffee table. I looked at the TV. A tennis game. The room smelled like weed.
“You’re not dressed,” I said. “Did you bring drugs here? Why didn’t you answer me before?”
She adjusted her top. “You know what’s funny?”
“What?”
“You know what’s funny?” she repeated. “I found out why you weren’t that worried about me blowing it for you with Dave about your job.” She shuffled her dirty sneakers on my couch thoughtfully. “I guess it doesn’t matter if there’s nothing to find out. Since you weren’t fired.”
I swallowed. “I asked you to stop prying into my personal life.”
She sat up. “I came out here because I felt sorry for you, Leslie. Because you said you were about to lose your house. But it turns out you guys are fine. You actually don’t need fifty grand. So why did you tell me all that crap?”
“Did you call my work?” I asked. “Did you give them a name?”
Mary’s face darkened. “Is it because I’m so cute, is that why everyone assumes I’m a fucking dumbass? I didn’t give them any name. I just wanted to know where you were going all day.” She flopped back on the couch and folded her arms. “Because you don’t tell me shit, Leslie. I went with you out of the goodness of my heart and you are making me question that.”
I blinked hard as my eyes watered. “You went with me because you were failing in Vegas,” I said, hearing the edge in it. “So don’t pretend it was because you care about my problems. I need the money, and so do you. It doesn’t matter why.”
Mary studied my eyes dispassionately, as if trying to determine whether the tears were real. Finally she said, “I thought we were kinda getting along, you know. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you to get dressed,” I said flatly.
Mary raised her eyebrows, but got up off the couch and went upstairs. I shut the TV off and gathered up the pizza detritus.
When she came back down, she had left the white Adidas on, but changed into a polo dress. Not ideal, but it was enough. We got into the car in silence. Mary looked out the window as I started the car and pulled us onto the main road.
After a minute I dug Robin’s passport out of my purse and tossed it into her lap. “Found that in the safety deposit box. It’s got three months left on it. You can use it if they ask you for ID.”
She thumbed through it. “There’s no country stamps in here.”
“We didn’t travel much.”
Mary flipped back to the photo. I could see her examining it out of the corner of my eye.
“I’m sorry for lying to you,” I said finally. “I didn’t know what else to say to explain why I need the will to go through.”
“You could tell me what’s really going on,” she said timidly.
I shook my head. “I can’t tell anyone. It’s not personal. And it won’t affect you.” I looked over at her. “I promise.”
Mary’s hair had fallen into her face. The light turned green as we stared at each other, and I hit the gas. Mary glanced back down at the passport in her hands. “She takes a good photo,” she said.
I knew the photo she was looking at. My dad had been talking about a trip to Europe as a reward if Robin stayed out of trouble. But Robin never stayed out of trouble. They’d told us not to smile in the picture, but she’d smiled anyway, looking into the camera as if it were her conspirator, the light turning her pale skin pink at the edges. Like she really had thought we were going to Europe.
“She ran away right after that.” I didn’t know why I said it. To stop Mary looking at the photo that way, maybe. “I saw her leaving, you know.”
Mary flipped the passport shut. “You didn’t stop her?”
“She left all the time.” I glanced over my shoulder and switched lanes. “She always thought she was quiet about it, but my bedroom window was right next to hers. I heard it every time she opened it.”
“And you saw her that night?”
“Yeah.” I pulled the visor down. “She just walked straight across the backyard and climbed the fence, and then she was gone. She barely took anything with her. I figured she’d be back in a few days.”
“But she wasn’t.”
“No.”