They were in the middle of dinner when the sheriff showed up, his knock at the door more certain and insistent than that of a neighbor or reporter. Their knocks said, “I don’t know if this is ok,” while his said, “I’m here because I’m in charge so let me in.” Daniel rose to get the door, and Tabitha watched as Anissa all but dropped her fork onto her plate, a look of guilt and panic replacing what, moments ago, had been a relaxed expression. For a moment they’d just been people gathered around a table. For a moment they’d let themselves forget.
Tabitha had learned to take the moments of peace and happiness where she could find them, even in the midst of crisis. She’d learned to find ways to laugh, even if it sometimes required the darkest of humor. She’d had a lot of practice at coping in the midst of tragedy.
Anissa, however, was uninitiated and Tabitha found herself wanting to protect the girl. Though she was not a girl, Tabitha knew, she was young. She was, Tabitha guessed, around Davy’s age. Sometimes it caught her off guard, how old Davy would be now. In her mind he was forever eleven.
The sheriff walked into the room, and a look passed between him and Anissa. The sheriff’s eyes asked, “What the hell is going on here?” Anissa’s eyes replied, “I’m sorry.”
Tabitha spoke up, running interference. “Would you like some supper, Sheriff? We coerced Anissa here to eat with us. I’d be glad to make you a plate too.” She waved at the containers on the counter. “We always end up with more than we can eat when this happens.” She also wanted to remind the sheriff that for them this was just another episode in a long-running series. What was to him a high-profile case was their life. And they had to live it as best they could.
“No, thank you,” the sheriff said. He stood shifting his weight from one leg to the other, clearly uncomfortable. Anissa ducked her head and stared at her plate. She’d wolfed down the lasagna. All that was left was a tributary of red sauce and a lone string of cheese. She looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. But she had done nothing wrong.
A few beats of silence passed before Tabitha tried again. “Anissa sure has been a big help today. She’s kept us informed and tried to make us feel comfortable.”
Truth be told, she knew why the sheriff had sent the girl. On the surface it was to protect the family, but it was also an effort to monitor what they said and didn’t say to the press. He wanted to control the narrative. Tabitha didn’t like the intrusion, didn’t want a stranger sitting in her den day after day as they waited for another search to be over, another lead to not pan out. Still, none of that was the girl’s fault.
“Good to hear she’s doing her job,” the sheriff said, though Tabitha could tell he was merely paying lip service. “I’ve got two guys who’ll be doing drive-bys at regular intervals this evening, monitoring things. I suspect there will be more press arriving, but we’ll do our best to see that they don’t breach the perimeter.” He made it sound like they were in the midst of some kind of a siege. Which, she supposed, they were.
He glanced at Anissa, then back at Daniel and Tabitha. “I heard one of ’em already did that today, and for that I apologize.”
Anissa looked up as he spoke, her eyes wide. That was what the sheriff was here for, a passive-aggressive redressing.
“I apologize for that too,” Anissa’s words came out in a rush.
Tabitha laughed it off. “Oh, that”—she fixed her eyes on the sheriff—“Was my fault. I opened the door even though she”—she pointed at Anissa—“Tried to stop me. And don’t you worry about that reporter. I know better than anyone that she’s trouble.”
The sheriff nodded once, then looked at Anissa, all business. “It’s gotten too dark, so I called off the search of the property for the night. We’ll start again at first light, and we’ll be better outfitted tomorrow.” He glanced over at Tabitha and Daniel, then back at Anissa. “I think with the drive-bys I’ve got arranged, it’s fine for you to go home and let these people have some privacy.”
Anissa sprang to her feet and grabbed her plate. “I’ll just rinse this and be on my way.” She darted off with the plate before Tabitha could tell her she would clear the table. It would give her something to do besides make stilted conversation with Daniel.
The sheriff followed Anissa into the kitchen. Thinking fast, Tabitha gathered her plate and Daniel’s and, though Daniel reached out and attempted to stop her, she dodged his grip and race-walked to get close enough to hear what the sheriff was going to say to Anissa. If he berated her for what happened with that bitchy reporter, Tabitha would intervene.
But first, she stood just out of sight and listened. For once, she was grateful she lived in a house built before the open kitchen concept so she could lurk around the corner and eavesdrop. Though he spoke in low tones, she heard the sheriff say something about Anissa following him to the station.
Tabitha’s eyebrows crunched together. Why would he need Anissa to go back to the station if there was no news to report and none expected tonight? Maybe just to debrief about the day, or maybe so he could chastise Anissa more thoroughly for the situation with the reporter. Whatever it was, she hoped they weren’t purposefully keeping something from her and Daniel. She took a deep breath and bustled into the kitchen pretending to be oblivious. The sheriff and Anissa stopped talking and took a step away from each other like guilty lovers.
“Just wanted to start cleaning up,” she said, her tone apologetic. Yes, she heard herself apologizing to strangers for entering her own kitchen.
“Of course,” the sheriff said. “I need to get going anyway. Got things to wrap up at the station before I go home myself.”
He bid them goodbye, gave Anissa a solemn look, and left. Following in his wake and avoiding Tabitha’s eyes, Anissa scurried to the dining room to gather her things—her phone in one spot, her purse in another, her shoes still under the table where she’d relaxed enough to slip them off as they ate. That done, she returned to the kitchen, where Tabitha and Daniel were wordlessly divvying up the tasks involved with closing down for the night.
“I just wanted to apologize again,” she said, looking miserable, the light that had entered her eyes during dinner now extinguished. “I was unprofessional today.” She cleared her throat nervously. “It won’t happen again.” She thought about it. “You guys are just so nice, and I—” she broke off, waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I will do better tomorrow.” She nodded once, agreeing with herself.
Tabitha reached for a towel to dry her hands before she responded. Daniel busied himself with packaging the leftovers and putting them away. He would, she knew, say nothing, leaving the talking to her as he always had. Anger started to rise in her chest, surprising her at how quickly the old feelings could come back, as if no time had passed at all.
That was the crux of the situation their family was in. Time was both fluid and congealed; they were swept away by it and mired in it. “All at the very same time.” She heard Davy’s voice in her head and smiled to herself at the memory. But the smile quickly died on her face as it occurred to her that today’s news meant they would start playing that video clip of him over and over on the news.
She turned her attention back to Anissa. “You did just fine today. Don’t let the sheriff get to you.”
Daniel put the last container in the fridge, walked over, and patted Anissa on the shoulder. “We all just have to do our best over the next few days. And somehow we’ll get through this.” He glanced at Tabitha and she dipped her chin in affirmation and thought, but didn’t say, Just like we always have.
* * *
Later, as she readied for bed, Tabitha stood in front of the mirror. For a moment she imagined Davy there like he used to be, half hidden by the door, thinking she was unaware of him. She looked over her shoulder, even as she scolded herself for doing so. Of course Davy wasn’t there. Wasn’t that what today had been about?
She turned back to the mirror and bared her teeth, squinting at her front tooth. She ground her teeth at night, her body working out the stress she’d suppressed during the day. At her last appointment her dentist remarked that he was concerned about a miniscule crack in the tooth. He’d chastised her for not wearing the night guard he had prescribed. There was always something, it seemed, that she was neglecting, something she could or should be doing better.
She put on her reading glasses and leaned closer to the mirror, struggling to see the crack, wondering if it was silently growing. The dentist had told her enamel was the hardest substance in the body. And yet it could still crack under pressure.
Behind her she felt a presence, this time a very real one. She pivoted to see who it was, even though she knew. Daniel, who had decided to stay the night in Kristyn’s old bedroom, just in case. That was how he’d put it. In case of what? she’d thought. Pete Lancaster said they’d suspended the search for the night. But she hadn’t had the energy to put up a fight about it. Deep down, she knew he just wanted to be here, in the only place in the world where Davy still, in some ways, lingered. It was why she’d never moved.
“What were you looking at?” Daniel asked.
She bit back the urge to snap, “None of your business.” Instead, as civilly as possible, she replied. “My tooth. Dr. Birch said there’s a crack in it. He wants to watch it.”
“Better stay on top of that,” he said.
She looked heavenward and sighed deeply. “Thank you for the advice,” she deadpanned as she pushed past him from the bathroom into what had been their bedroom but was now solely hers. She had not yet changed into her nightgown and was grateful for that. It was strange enough being fully dressed in this space with him.
“Did you need something?” she asked. He still stood in the bathroom doorway.
“Actually, I was wondering if you had a toothbrush handy. You used to keep extras for the kids’ friends when they spent the night. I was hoping maybe you still had some lying around.”
Tabitha nodded. “They’re in the hall closet.” She did not say, “Where they always were.” Because maybe he had truly forgotten that part. Maybe he’d allowed himself to forget the things she could not. Maybe it was time for her to do the same. She just had to figure out how.
“Thanks,” Daniel said and began walking toward the bedroom door. “Oh!” He stopped short at the foot of the bed they once shared. “I totally forgot to tell you that Kristyn called when you were outside talking to Marie.”
Tabitha gave him a guilty look. “I was going to wait to call her till we knew more.”
He shook his head. “You know it doesn’t work that way.” Was that a scolding tone in his voice? Probably, but she chose to ignore it.
“I’m sure some helpful old friend was only too kind to call and ask how she was in light of the news.” She rolled her eyes even as she internally chastised herself for not calling Kristyn. She should’ve been the one to tell her about the discovery and not let her hear it from someone else. She would add the oversight to her regret list next Friday. She had a feeling the coming week’s list would be a long one. She might need to break her own rule and work on it ahead of time.
“She mainly wanted us to know that she plans to come, but she can’t get away for a couple of days. She’s got some . . . stuff going on.” He waved his hands vaguely. “She told me the whole story, but I kind of—”
“Didn’t listen,” she finished.
He ignored the dig. “Anyway, she wants to be here. She’s working on it.”
Now a married mother of two living in California clear across the country, Kristyn had only been four years old when Davy disappeared. Though she claimed to remember him, she didn’t really, couldn’t possibly. Kristyn remembered the Davy they’d described to her, a child who, in memory, had eclipsed the child he was in reality. For her other two children, Tabitha knew that Davy—the invented one—had been hard to live up to. They struggled with resenting their perfect, absent brother—though they tried not to and probably felt guilty for it. But they never talked about that.
“She didn’t seem angry?” Tabitha asked. “That I hadn’t called to let her know?”
“No—not at all. It seemed like she was apologizing to us because she wasn’t already en route.”
“Well, that’s silly. I never would’ve expected her to hop on a plane just because they found his jacket. She’s got a lot on her as it is.”
With a pang Tabitha thought of her earlier phone call with Thaddeus. She’d demanded his presence, accepted nothing less, heaping guilt on him. Her expectations of Thaddeus and Kristyn were completely different. And not just because of their different lives. She suspected it was because Thaddeus was there that night, while Kristyn had been too little to understand. She still saw them that way: the one who was aware, and the one who wasn’t; the one who should be there, and the one who got a pass.
“I wish she wasn’t so far away,” she said, for lack of something else to say. Daniel nodded his agreement.
“Well, good night.”
“Sleep well,” she said. She took a step back, leaving him a wide berth to exit the room, then shut the door behind him and, ever so quietly, pushed the little button that locked the door. She laughed at herself for doing so but left the lock engaged all the same.
She changed into her nightgown quickly, then crawled into bed. Upon lying down she could feel her body surrendering to the exhaustion that had been simmering since late afternoon, since that bitchy reporter breached the perimeter. She just needed sleep, the ignorance unconsciousness allowed her. In sleep she could forget what this day had brought and stop thinking about what tomorrow would bring. She had a nagging feeling it wouldn’t be good.
Tomorrow, more press would show up. Tomorrow, the images of Davy would play on the news on an endless loop, unavoidable and as painful as ever. They would run the video clip of him at Kristyn’s birthday party the weekend before he disappeared, juggling for the little kids. She would have to see him on TV, forever eleven years old, saying, “Mom, did you see? I juggled four balls! I kept them all up! All at the very same time!”
The media loved that clip, not caring how it tore at her heart to be faced with Davy, to see him alive and as animated as ever, to hear that little voice call her Mom just one more time.