Twenty

Misty lay in bed, watching the clock tick away the hours until five thirty a.m. Her mind replayed her incredulous admission to Bill.

“Bill, I love you.” Her mouth had actually allowed the truth to gush forth. What was happening to her, and why in the world had she let it slip out?

She loved him. And yes, while an element of pity was mixed in because he had just lost his daughter, her love was much more than that. But Bill would never believe it, and never again would she make a fool of herself in such a spectacular fashion.

And that’s what happened when you stepped out, spoke up, and bared your soul. Way to humiliate yourself, Misty. The combination of Bill’s rejection and her own mortification made her want to hide under the bed again. She might possibly have tried it, except that Jellybean would have thought it a game, and she’d never get him calmed down again.

As it was, he was hopping out of bed, nosing aside the trailer curtain in search of the first signs of dawn. There weren’t many, only raindrops chasing each other down the glass and a cloudy, gray sky. From far away came the chirp of some stalwart bird that wasn’t intimidated by the storm. Nutty bird, don’t you know your nest is the safest place to be? The twittering continued.

A bolt of inspiration sizzled through her. Chirp. Bird. The sound in the background noise during her phone call with Lawrence. She sat up so fast her head spun.

It could not be.

She had to be mistaken.

Five thirty a.m was far too early to make the call, but she made it anyway, receiving no answer.

Jellybean was whining now, eager to go out in spite of the storm.

“Oh, we’re going out, all right,” she snapped, tossing the covers aside. “We’re going to get Lawrence and haul him back to Albatross whether he’s done with his crisis or not.”

She was flinging on clothes and charging for the door. Jelly turned in excited circles as they plunged into the rain and headed for Gunther’s house.

He answered the door clad in flannel pajamas with one eye open. “What are ya doin’ here so early?”

She explained, leaving out the part about why she was not about to ask Bill to use his vehicle, and he shoved the keys at her, probably just to get her off his doorstep. They were on the road, zipping through the rain and arriving at Nana’s Berkeley apartment in just over forty-five minutes. Misty pounded on the door in spite of the early hour. Inside she could hear Nana’s canary, Peepers, chirping away, as he had been during her phone conversation with Lawrence.

Nana opened up. “Well, here’s the girl who never answers her phone. Do you know how many times I tried to call?”

“There’ll be no small talk.” Misty held back the jumping Jellybean, fixing Nana with a hard stare. “You’re harboring Lawrence here, aren’t you?”

Nana blushed. “Well, I would not actually use the word harboring. He was having a sort of crisis, you see, so I’ve been praying for him, and my friends have been too. I think we’re making inroads.”

“Your friends?”

“Yes, we’ve worked out a visitation schedule.” Nana winked. “They all want to see him, of course, so we keep strictly to the time limits. A big star like that, right here in our complex?” Nana shook her head. “But I made them all promise not to Tweet or put it on Facebook since Mr. Tucker is here in secrecy. And no Snapchatting—definitely none of that. Everyone loves him, and he’s been passing out boxes of chocolates, which didn’t hurt either.”

“Why didn’t you leave me a message?” Misty wailed.

“I was actually going to get a taxi today and come and tell you in person. Mr. Lawrence said phones can be tapped. I didn’t want to take any chances. We’ve almost got him convinced he should go back.”

Misty resisted an eye roll, hauling Jellybean to the kitchen behind Nana, where she found Lawrence sipping coffee and munching on a bagel.

His eyes lit up when he saw Misty and the dog.

“Jellybean, my angel!” The dog leapt and pranced in joyful circles around Lawrence’s chair. “Well, look at that. He really did miss me,” Lawrence said, reaching to scoop Jellybean up.

The dog skirted just out of his reach.

“You can bond in the car,” Misty said. “I’m taking you back to Albatross.”

“But I’m not ready,” he started. “I’m feeling—”

“Listen,” Misty said, cutting him off. “You can have all the feelings you want later. Right now, you’re going to go back to save the day.”

“I am?”

“This is your moment, Lawrence. You have confused reality with your acting world for too long, but now is the time to be a real-life hero in your own story, not a made-up plot or a script.” She swept an arm in a grand gesture. “You have a chance to save a whole town.”

Lawrence suspended the coffee cup in midair. “I do?”

“Yes, so you’re going back.” Misty would have played an inspirational theme on her violin if she’d had it handy. “For Albatross and for Vivian.”

“Vivian?” He grimaced. “I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Yes, you can. And Jelly and I are going to help you. We’ll write your speech on the way.”

“Speech? What speech?”

“You’re kicking off the Silver Screen Festival tomorrow with a riveting talk.”

“I’m not feeling at all riveting,” Lawrence said, brows drawn. “I think I should stay here and let Bett take care of me for a while longer. She’s very good at bolstering the soul.”

Misty grabbed him by the elbow, eliciting an encouraging bark from Jellybean. “No more bolstering. Come on, Mr. Tucker. Time to let it shine.”

The rain slowed to a patter by Thursday noon. Bill took Fiona to preschool along with some chocolate treats for the class, since the next day would be her last before the move to Georgia. He ignored the lurch in his stomach. Again, Catherine would be picking Fiona up from school and working on bonding with her. Bill had packed Fiona’s suitcase. How was she feeling about the move? Bill had no idea.

His feelings had seized up like ruined chocolate, and even working with his beloved peanut butter crunch filling did not revive him. What was there to do but move on to the next recipe and the next, to fill up Chocolate Heaven with as many sweets as he could to ease the bitter pain of losing Fiona? Vivian roared into the shop just as he was finishing dipping the handmade marshmallows.

Her eyes were wild, and her normally neat hair hung loose about her face. “She’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere.”

He was about to ask who until his brain kicked in. “Tinka?”

“She ran out of the yard early this morning when I went out to dry the tables.”

He was already hanging up his apron. “I’ll help you.”

“Thank you,” she said, mouth twitching. “Um, I heard that Fiona’s aunt is here to take her to Georgia.”

Bad news did indeed travel fast. “Yes.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you would have been a great father.”

He looked away. It was the second time someone had expressed confidence in his parenting. He felt an odd nudge in his gut. Maybe… No, it doesn’t matter, Bill. Sometimes love isn’t enough, remember? Hoping circumstances would miraculously change was grasping at straws, and he could not allow it. Catherine was right. “Thank you.”

Though they scoured the town for a good hour, there was no sign of the spoiled dog. Vivian returned, despondent, to the Lady Bird, and Bill went back to his duties. He was surprised to see Gunther’s car speeding toward the film set. What in the world could the old man want there?

Stifling his curiosity, he tried to while away the hours until six o’clock, when Fiona would return. Catherine had promised more ice cream and beach time if the weather cooperated. He hoped Fiona wouldn’t get a stomachache from all the treats.

Another thing he would have to train himself to stop worrying about.

Toby and Roger came into the shop in search of a snack just before closing time.

“All set at the family fun area. Tank’s all shined up and ready. Never did get Misty’s car out, but we’ll just add it in for ambience.”

Toby popped a fresh chocolate-dipped marshmallow into his mouth. “There’s some doings over on the set.”

“Yeah?” Bill said. “Like what?”

“Dunno what it’s about, but there’s an awful lot of barking.”

He wondered if Tinka had snuck over. Leaving the shop in Gunther’s hands, he pocketed his cell phone and trudged up the gravel path. As he approached, he heard Jellybean’s high-pitched bark and saw Larry sprint across the lot and up the steps into his trailer.

Larry slammed the door and hollered out the window. “Get that monster away from me.”

Misty ran into view and grabbed the trailing leash. Panting, she yelled, “Sorry, Larry. I lost track of him for a minute.”

Bill’s heart jumped at the sight of her. She spotted him and ducked her chin.

“Hey,” he said, pasting on a smile he did not feel. “I thought maybe I could find Tinka here. Have you seen her?”

She opened her mouth to answer when Lawrence rounded the corner, his face tinted with stage makeup, garbed in a soiled infantry uniform.

Bill gaped. “Mr. Tucker? Where did you come from?”

“He was holed up at Nana’s house,” Misty said. “She was providing soul bolstering and home cooking. She couldn’t leave me a message because she was afraid the phone might be bugged.”

Bill stared from Misty to Lawrence. All he could do was laugh. This would happen to no other lady, in no other town, in no other corner of the universe.

“So I guess the festival is on then?” Bill said when he’d stifled his laughter.

“I guess that’s what it means, all right,” she said.

“Did you say, my good man, that Vivian is missing her Tinka?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

The phone in Bill’s pocket rang. He answered.

Catherine’s panic-stricken voice was audible even to the others. Bill listened, horror flashing through him. In the time it took for Catherine to get the words out, the bottom fell out of his world again.

“I’ll be right there,” he said, then he ended the call.

“Bill, what is it?”

“Fiona’s lost.”

Misty did not skip a beat. “We’ll take Gunther’s car. I’ll drive us back.”

“Come on,” she said to Lawrence. “You can come and help look since your shooting is done for the day.”

“But…” Lawrence started.

Misty didn’t give him time to answer. She just hauled him by one arm and Jellybean by the leash. If he wasn’t so worried, Bill would have stopped to admire the way she had taken charge of the addled star and his dog.

As it was, he raced to the passenger seat and willed the vehicle to move faster as they sped back to Albatross.

Catherine met them at the door of Chocolate Heaven with the Barnyard Boogie book clutched in her hand. “We came back here to get her a pair of dry shoes. I took a phone call, and when I was done, she was gone. We were going to read a story.”

Bill bolted up the stairs to check the bedrooms, returning in moments, face tight with fear. “Not there.”

“The back door is unlocked. She could have let herself out,” Misty said.

“I’ve looked in the yard already,” Catherine wailed.

They piled out anyway. There was no sign of which way the child might have headed imprinted on the rain-soaked grass.

Bill checked the gate that led to the empty field. “It’s not fully closed, so she might have gone this way.” He yanked it open and charged out, shouting Fiona’s name.

The only reply was the breeze blowing across the tall grass.

“Fiona!” they yelled, fanning out and looking in all directions.

“The beach,” Catherine said. “You don’t think she might have gone there herself, do you?”

Misty considered the roiling surf, and her skin went cold with terror.

Catherine dropped the book and set off at a run toward the sand. Lawrence picked it up as if it might be a clue to Fiona’s whereabouts.

It suddenly occurred to Misty that they had among them a searcher with better skills than any of them. She unclipped Jellybean. “Where’s Fiona, Jelly? Can you find her?”

He bounded off immediately, cutting a path in the wet grass, his bark carrying through the wet air.

Misty tried her best to keep up, stopping breathless about fifty yards away, where Jellybean parked himself, barking at something she could not see. Bill and Lawrence pulled up next to her.

“Where?” Bill said.

Misty dropped to her knees. Almost overgrown with grass was a wooden cover, the rotted middle broken out. Misty pushed away some bits of wood and used her phone’s flashlight to peer through the gap. It was barely sufficient to pierce the gloom, but Misty knew without a doubt what lay at the bottom.

“Here!” she yelled. “Fiona’s fallen into some sort of drainage pipe.”

Bill crouched down and stuck his head in the pipe. “Fiona!” he shouted. “Are you in there?”

Far away from down in the darkness came the sound of a child crying.