Читать книгу: «Bringing Rosie Home»

Chapter Two

WHAT A CRUEL joke it would be if it was someone else’s little girl.

“Are they... How can they be sure it’s Rosie?”

“She gave them our names,” Grant said. “Our address. Her preschool teacher’s name. Told them she called her favorite Teddy bear, Mr. Fuzzbottom. They sent me pictures, too. I’ll forward them to your cell. It’s our Rosie. No doubt in my mind.”

Our Rosie... She hadn’t heard him use that phrase since—

“I’ll make reservations and let you know when our flight takes off.” He paused. Cleared his throat. “If you want to come with me to Chicago, that is.”

“Of course I want to!”

Another pause, long enough this time that she was about to check if the call had been dropped.

“I’ll go home right now, dig up the paperwork. Rosie’s birth certificate. Her immunization records. Photographs. Our passports...”

Rena had left so quickly that day, more than three years ago now, that she hadn’t even thought to grab her birth certificate and passport. But the Chicago police would need proof that she and Grant were who they claimed to be.

“Rosie is speaking with a pediatric psychiatrist now,” Grant continued. “By the time we get there—I’m thinking midafternoon tomorrow at the latest—she’ll be prepared for the fact that we’re coming to take her home.”

Home. The house they’d shared since the day after their honeymoon, and the only place Rosie had ever lived...until the abduction. And where accusations and arguments pushed Grant and Rena apart even before she moved to Delaware’s Fenwick Island.

“I, ah, I think for the time being you should plan to stay at the house. Maybe you can stop by tonight, before we leave for Chicago, so you can unpack, make it look like you never left. Spend the night. That way, just one car to worry about at the airport.”

It was a lot to absorb in just a few minutes. She couldn’t imagine living under the same roof with him again, not after all the harsh words they'd exchanged. But there would be plenty of time later to question his decision. Right now, he was waiting for her reply.

“All right. I’ll go straight home to pack and make arrangements with work. And find someone to water my plants. And collect my mail. And then it’ll take me a few hours to drive to Ellicott City. Unless there’s traffic, I can be there by six.”

“Rena, you know what this means...”

“That we have to put on a good front, make Rosie believe we’re still a happy couple.”

“Exactly. She doesn’t need to cope with her parents’ breakup on top of everything else she’s gone through.”

How many times had she wondered about that? A thousand? Ten thousand? Even after accepting that they might never know, Rena had always hoped the kidnapper had been gentle and kind.

“I...I think that’s best, too,” she told him. “Anything, anything for Rosie’s sake.”

“I’ll pull something together for supper. We can talk about how we’re going to proceed while we eat.”

The invitation was a big sacrifice on his part, especially considering that during their last months together in the house, she’d slept in the guest room. He hadn’t stopped her from doing that, either. Would they go back to living as roommates? Rena couldn't imagine a more uncomfortable scenario.

“Yes, yes, that’s a good idea.”

Did she sound as much like a robot to Grant as she did to herself?

“How have you been, by the way?”

It surprised her that he’d bothered to ask. “Fine.” Seeing a shrink, trying not to give in to insanity, dealing with insomnia, but... “And you?”

“Fine,” he echoed.

But she knew he wasn’t. She could hear it in his strained voice. Neither of them were fine. How could they be?

“Well, I’d better skedaddle.”

How long since she’d heard him recite the phrase that had so often inspired good-natured teasing between them? Not once in the five years since Rosie vanished, like the smoke from a spent match. It told her that Grant had hope, real hope, for the first time since the kidnapping. His belief that they’d find her had been the second biggest issue between them next to the blame. The third biggest? Her dreams of having another baby. “Another child won’t replace Rosie. How can you just give up on her?” he’d demand. “What kind of mother just throws in the towel this way?”

“Just so you know, I asked Mom not to come around for a few days, to give Rosie time to adjust to being back,” Grant said now.

Rena clenched her jaw. “But Grant, your mother was always such a huge part of her life. Wouldn’t it seem strange to her if Tina didn’t stop by once we're...” She couldn’t bring herself to call it home. Not yet. “At least for a little while?”

He didn’t reply right away, and Rena braced herself for his dismissal.

“You’re right, I guess,” he said, surprising her. “I’ll give her a call. You think she should be at the house, waiting? Or stop by a couple of hours after we get home?”

Who was this cordial man? In their last few months of living together, he hadn’t agreed with her on anything.

“Later, maybe, to give Rosie a chance to look around, reacquaint herself with her surroundings.” And being with us.

“Right. Right.”

In the moment of silence that followed, she considered asking how the news had affected him. But she wasn’t quite ready to go there with him yet. For now, cordial felt like the safest course of action.

“I’d better let you go. You still have your house keys?”

“Yes...” But even if she didn’t, Rena could use the one she’d hidden in the ceramic frog lawn ornament near the front door. Unless a storm had blown it from the table, she was sure it would still be there.

“Good. If I’m not there, let yourself in. Nothing has changed, so you won’t have any trouble finding things. Just make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, Grant.”

“That isn’t exactly true...that nothing has changed,” he continued. “Rosie’s room is different from when you last saw it.”

“Oh?”

“I found all her stuff in the attic, right where you put it, and thanks to those pictures you took for the insurance album, everything is back to the way it was before...”

His voice trailed off, but she knew what he’d stopped himself from saying: Before you packed things up. Put our girl out of sight, out of mind.

“I...ah... Drive safely, Rena,” he said, and hung up.

She sat in Martha’s waiting room, still as a statue, as tears filled her eyes. By this time tomorrow, she’d get to hold her sweet daughter in her arms again. Rosie was alive. Rosie was alive!

“Must have been some phone call,” her therapist said, poking her head out of her office.

Rena knuckled her damp eyes. “It was Grant. He said...he said they...they found Rosie.”

Martha walked over and sat beside her, sliding an arm across Rena’s shoulders.

“Oh, Rena, that’s wonderful news!”

“She’s in Chicago. I don’t know any of the details. Except that Rosie is talking to a child specialist right now, so that by the time we arrive, she’ll be somewhat prepared. We decided to present a united front. I’m moving back into the house to make the transition easier for her.”

“Grant’s idea, or yours?”

“His, but I agree.”

Leaning back slightly, Martha said, “That’s a lot for him to ask, don’t you think, after the way he treated you?”

“I’m not fooling myself. I know it won’t be easy, especially not at first, but I’ll do whatever it takes to help Rosie adjust to being home again. It’s the least I can do after...”

Martha held up a hand, effectively silencing the self-deprecating comment that would follow. “How old is she now?”

“She turned nine three weeks ago, on May 5.”

“And she was three when she was taken?”

“Almost four.”

Martha pointed out that Rosie had no doubt changed a lot in all that time. “Are you ready for that?”

“I haven’t really had time to wrap my mind around the news yet. But thankfully, I’ll have hours and hours to think about it.” During the drive to Ellicott City. On the plane to Chicago. And of course, tonight, after she retreated to the guest room...

“I was heading home, but I can stay if you want to talk.”

Rena got to her feet. “Thanks, but I need to get home and pack for the drive to Maryland.”

Martha stood, too. “Things are happening fast. If you need me, just call.”

Nodding, Rena dropped her phone into her purse and started for the exit. “Thanks,” she said. Martha wouldn’t hear from her again, but this wasn’t the time or place to discuss why. “That’s nice to know.”

* * *

GRANT HADN’T REALIZED how much he’d missed the sound of her voice. Even with the shock of hearing this news, Rena had been calm and quiet. One of the things he’d admired most about her had been her ability to maintain her composure, even during the most stressful moments.

Like the time Rosie fell off the swing and broke her arm. He’d totally freaked out, but Rena had kept her cool and orchestrated a trip to the ER for X-rays, told jokes and made silly faces while the tech set the bone and wrapped Rosie’s arm in a cast. And the day he’d nearly electrocuted himself trying to add a circuit breaker to the electrical panel. He’d thought surely he’d bought a one-way ticket to heaven, but her soft, reassuring voice was all it had taken to make him believe he’d be fine.

Fine. It was what she said when he’d asked how she was, and what he’d said when she returned the question. In truth, he’d only felt this frazzled on one other occasion: the day Rosie went missing.

Because Rena had been paying more attention to somebody else’s kid than to their little girl.

He felt a little crazy, waffling between loving her still and despising her for putting them in the middle of every parent’s worst nightmare.

In all fairness, he hadn’t suffered that nightmare alone. Guilt had tormented Rena, turning her from a confident, lively young mother into a jumpy, sleep-deprived woman who burst into tears at the drop of a hat. And he hadn’t made things easier for her.

But then, was it his fault that the only reason the nightmare began was because she’d been too busy minding Rosie’s classmate to notice a stranger carrying their only child away?

Grant looked at the clock. She’d be here in an hour, two at most. Not much time to get his head straight. And he’d need a clear mind to cope with having her home again. Why in the world had he suggested that she spend the night? Anything, anything for Rosie, she’d said. Still, tonight it would just be the two of them, alone for the first time in three long years.

Shaking his head, he headed to the guest room. Last time he’d checked, there were clean sheets on the bed. Other than a little dust on the furniture, things looked fine. He put a stack of fresh towels in the guest bath, then ran a dust rag over the headboard and footboard, the dresser and night stand.

“Might as well vacuum the family room, too,” he muttered, heading for the linen closet. And while he was at it, Grant would figure out what to make for supper.

Tonight would be a cakewalk compared to tomorrow. Hopefully tidying up and preparing the meal would get his mind off...everything.

Such as what she’d look like now? Taller. Weightier. Had the kidnapper cut her hair? Dyed it to ensure no one would recognize her from the photos that had flashed on every TV news broadcast, nationwide? What had the abductor put his little girl through?

Don’t go there, he told himself. Because thoughts like that would only make him more angry and resentful of Rena. He was determined to behave like a gentleman tonight. Tomorrow, too. And every day until Rosie had grown fully accustomed to her new life. No matter how long it took.

She’d remembered her address and phone number. His full name and Rena’s. Did she remember how much she’d been loved and treasured, too? He hoped so, because that would go a long way to assuring a quick shift from her life in Chicago to life in their peaceful Baltimore suburb.

None of it would be necessary if Rena hadn’t dropped the ball that day. What kind of mother...

But he’d been down that road a couple hundred times, and all he had to show for it was an overblown resentment of his wife.

How did he expect to share a meal, the house, day-to-day life with the woman who’d upended his whole world?

Grant didn’t know.

But for Rosie’s sake, he intended to try.