Elisabeth Naughton - Hold On To Me

“I thought they didn’t need you at the job site just yet?”

Mitch huffed, a humorless sound. “They needed me three weeks ago. I just kept putting it off.”

Because of Simone. The unsaid words hung between them. Dammit, if Mitch was running, things were worse than Ryan had suspected. “Mitch—”

“Don’t.” Mitch raked a hand through his already wild hair. “I’m not in the mood. And no, I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”

Oh yeah. Definitely worse.

Mitch drew a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but if you’d have someone check on the house now and then, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. You know that’s no problem.”

Mitch looked at him. Seemed to want to say something else, but turned and headed for the driver’s side of his vehicle instead.

Ryan moved around the side of the car as Mitch pulled the door open. And though he knew he shouldn’t push, he couldn’t help himself. Because Mitch had been there for him all those years after he’d lost his wife. If it hadn’t been for Mitch’s pushing, Ryan wouldn’t be where he was now. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Me?” Mitch stood with one hand on the open car door. “Sure. I’m always okay. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Before Ryan could call him on the bullshit he was spewing, Mitch pulled something from his pocket and tossed it Ryan’s way. “There is one more thing you can do for me. Get rid of that. I don't want to see it again.”

Ryan caught the small velvet box with both hands.

Mitch climbed into his Land Rover and slammed the door. He backed out of the drive, his headlights casting a wide path of light over the dark neighborhood. When he reached the street, he shifted into Drive, glanced once toward Ryan but didn’t wave. And there was no missing the anger and pain swirling in his eyes as he pressed down on the gas.

The car disappeared around the bend. Alone, Ryan popped the top on the box and stared down at the princess-cut diamond—the one that had to have set Mitch back at least three months’ worth of his salary—sparkling under the light of the full moon.

“Are you sure?” Shannon rolled to her belly on the queen-size bed in her room and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “This totally isn’t going to work.”

“Trust me,” Julia said on the other end of the line, all confidence and maturity. Maturity, Shannon did not have. “No one’s going to catch on unless you act like a baby.”

Shannon glanced toward the open door. She could hear Melody, her babysitter, opening and closing drawers in the kitchen, making dinner, which meant for the moment, at least, she was safe. She really hoped Melody was making mac and cheese and not that healthy stuff her mom was always forcing her to eat.

She pushed up to sitting, crossed her long legs, and cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. Her pink nail polish was chipped away from gnawing on her fingers, and her pants had a hole in the knee where she’d picked at the loose threads. “No one’s ever going to believe I’m twelve.”

“They will if you act like it. Look.” Julia huffed. “You’re ten now, which is practically eleven, which almost the same as twelve. And you’re tall.”

Shannon sighed, but inside, her stomach was a knot of nerves. She didn’t have Julia’s confidence or worldliness. One look and the TSA officials were going to call her mom and tell on her. Or maybe worse…send her to airport jail for lying. “What about security?”

“Security’s a snap. You don’t check a bag, you print your boarding pass at home, and when you get to the front of the line, you just pick someone in the crowd waving to a family member leaving, and wave back. If security asks, you just say ‘That’s my mom.’”

It sounded foolproof, but Shannon wasn’t convinced. “What if no one’s waving?”

“Someone’s always waving,” Julia said. “It’s a huge airport. Besides, if the security guys ask, all you have to do is say ‘Of course I’m twelve. Do you think my parents are stupid enough to send me on a plane by myself without a chaperone if I wasn’t?'”

This all sounded so complicated. Shannon bit her lip, and her palm grew sweaty against the phone in her hand.

“Where’s your mom?” Julia asked.

Shannon shot a look toward the hall again. She could just see the banister on the curved staircase and the dozens of framed photos hanging on the two-story wall. Ones of her and her mom and her dad and a time when they’d been a happy family and her mom hadn’t been a giant stress case all the time. “At her office. She went in for a few hours to do some kind of work.”

“How long will she be there?”

“I don’t know. She arranged for Melody to spend the night. Said she might be there most of the night. She’s been crying all day while she’s been packing.”

“Definitely not a good sign.”

No, it definitely wasn’t. Shannon’s mom wasn’t a crier. Even after her dad had died, Shannon could only remember a handful of times her mom had gotten teary-eyed. That ball of nerves twisted tighter.

“There’s a flight out of SFO at ten p.m. Do you think you’ll be able to get there in time?“

Shannon’s stomach rolled. “Yeah. Melody spends most of the time on her phone with her boyfriend. If I tell her I’m tired and going to bed early, she won’t care.”

She’d need to have her backpack all ready and call a cab from her cell phone. And she’d have to walk across the park in the dark, which her mom never let her do. Those nerves jumped all over again.

“Put a pile of pillows under your covers,” Julia said. “Make it look like you’re sleeping.”

That was what Shannon had planned to do. But saying it out loud made it all so real. “Julia, I don’t know if this is a good idea. What if…?”

“No ‘what ifs,’ Shannon. Whatever happened between Uncle Mitch and your mom was bad if your mom’s been crying. You have to do something drastic to get their attention.”

Shannon knew that was true. Especially since Mitch had left without saying good-bye. Her heart pinched, and all the fears that had kept her awake last night came spiraling back. What if he’d decided he didn’t want a kid after all? She wasn’t cute like she’d been as a baby. She was just long-legged and gangly. And she had a big red bump on her chin. Mitch probably didn’t want a daughter who had pimples.

Fear pushed in strong, making it hard to breathe. “How do I know he’ll even be there?”

“Trust me. He’ll be there. My dad’s friend Tate called this morning. He and my dad and Uncle Mitch all went to college together. He’s got this great big house up in the San Juan Islands. And he’s super cute. I heard my parents talking about Uncle Mitch before breakfast. He showed up at Tate's house late last night, got drunk, and passed out. He’s obviously moping about whatever happened with your mom.”

Shannon couldn’t picture Mitch moping. Or drunk. In all the months her mom and Mitch had been dating, she’d never seen him have more than two beers at any one time. “I don’t know, Julia—”

“Look. Do you want to move away forever and never see me again?”

Shannon’s belly clenched. “No.”

“Don’t you want Uncle Mitch to be your dad?”

More than anything. Shannon’s pulse picked up speed, and all those daydreams she’d had about having a dad again popped back into her head. Her gaze strayed to the picture of her real dad on her nightstand. She loved him—always would—but he’d been gone so long, sometimes she forgot what he looked like, and she couldn’t even remember what his voice sounded like anymore. She wanted to be like the other kids at school. The ones with dads who took them to baseball games and amusement parks and who were always telling them to do their homework. All the things Mitch did when she spent time with him.

Tears filled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Then you have to do something to get them back together. Trust me, this plan will totally work if you follow my directions. Uncle Mitch just needs a kick in the butt. Now, get a pen. When you get to Seattle, you’ll need to take a taxi and then a ferry. The ferries in Seattle are just like the ones here. I’m gonna tell you which one will take you to Tate’s house. But just remember, he’s mine, so hands off. Once I’m old enough, I’m gonna marry the guy.”

Julia’s bluntness eased the sting around Simone’s heart, just a little, just enough so Shannon didn’t freak out. “Don’t you think your dad with tell you no?”

“Duh. I’m not telling him until right before the wedding. He’d have a cow if he knew. Tate’s like a bazillion years older than me. But he’s rich and he sings and he’s really cute for an old guy. And he thinks I’m cool. He says so every time we see him. Okay, I’m going to book this ticket.”

Shannon's nerves hummed again. “How am I going to pay for it?”

“I’ve got you covered. I swiped my dad’s credit card. Do you have enough cash for taxis and Kit Kats?”

Between what she’d pulled from her piggy bank and the slush fund her mom kept in the cookie jar, Shannon figured she had plenty. Or, at least, she hoped. “Yeah.”

“Okay, grab a pen then.”

For a moment, Shannon thought she was going to be sick. They were going to get in so much trouble when their parents found out what they’d done. But she climbed off the bed and picked up a pencil and notepad from her desk like Julia said. She didn’t care about getting in trouble. She didn’t care about this Tate person Julia couldn’t stop talking about. She just wanted to see Mitch. And convince him she’d be the most perfect daughter ever if he’d just give her mom a second chance.

“Okay, I have it.”

“Good. Now write this down. When you get off the plane at Sea-Tac, head for baggage claim…”

* * *

Simone tossed her keys on the entry table in her foyer and rubbed her tired eyes. They hurt, not just because she hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, but from crying. She had to get a handle on these useless emotions. She was not an emotional woman. She’d learned the hard way that tears never fixed anything.

She glanced up the dark stairs toward the second floor. No sound. Shannon was—thankfully—fast asleep. It was close to two in the morning. She’d been at the office wrapping up her current cases, getting everything together to transfer to her partners. She felt bad about leaving them in the lurch, but her daughter’s safety was more important than any job. And she still had enough cash in the bank from Steve’s life insurance policy for her and Shannon to start over somewhere else.

The thought of running sent her stomach swirling, but she took a deep breath and ignored it. Quietly, she moved down the hall toward the great room. She was going to miss this house. It was the first place that had felt like home in a very long time.

Melody lifted her head from the pillow on the couch and pushed up, rubbing her tired eyes. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” Simone looked toward the muted TV, flickering images of a rerun of The Simpsons, then glanced back at the seventeen-year-old. “I’m sorry I’m so late. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. No problems.”

Simone breathed a sigh of relief. Will’s phone call echoed in her mind, and she reminded herself if something bad was imminent, he would have urged her to grab Shannon and run. The fact he hadn’t told her she had time. Not that she was pushing that luck, but it meant she didn’t have to disappear right on the spot. Yet. “How’s Shannon?”

“Fine. She went to bed around eight. Said she was really tired. I checked on her once. She was sound asleep and didn’t even move when her door creaked.”

Shannon slept like the dead. When she was exhausted, nothing could rouse that kid. And considering she hadn’t slept much the night before, it made sense tonight she’d be zonked out.

Simone smiled weakly, hating the reason her daughter hadn’t slept. Hating even more that she was hurting as much as Simone. “It’s late. Why don’t you just spend the night?”

Melody reached for her shoes from the floor. “No, that’s okay. I told my folks I’d be late, so they’re expecting me. And it’s only a few blocks, anyway.”

A whisper of relief passed through Simone. Being responsible for one more person was a burden she was thankful not to have to bear tonight. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

She waited while Melody gathered her things—backpack, laptop, cell phone, charger—the girl traveled with an entire mini office. After walking her to the door, Simone handed her the cash—and a big tip. “Can you come by on Friday? I’ll be packing all day, and I’m sure Shannon would love the company.”