He was nice.
“I met Gladys at the Daily Discount, today.”
Mercedes snapped back to what she was doing with a little start. She turned from the paperwork before her to the spry seventy-eight-year-old who favored papery thin blouses with forget-me-not prints.
“You startled me, Mrs. Farley.”
“I didn’t mean to.” She set a small straw bag on the narrow shelf of the bottom half of the Dutch-door. “I thought you would like to hear who I saw at the mall.”
“You said Gladys.” Mercedes double-checked the name on the blister-pack of pills she held, then checked it off against her list.
“I hadn’t seen her in ages. We tried the pie at the Cozy Café. You know they have two-for-one on Wednesdays, between two and four.”
“Uh, huh.” Mercedes tried not to encourage her. She usually didn’t mind Mrs. Farley’s accounting of her day, but if she didn’t get these medications checked off and distributed to the resident mailboxes in the next thirty minutes, she’d be late picking up the kids from school. Dayton was a little more accepting of Ayjia’s half-day schedule now that Mercedes had moved Ayjia into the afternoon class. She picked both of them up at the same time to drive them herself to after-school care, but she was terrified of messing with the system.
“Gladys didn’t really have time, of course, with her daughter staying with her and waiting to go to the bus depot, but the pie was coconut cream. She’s not supposed to have dairy, because of her gall bladder. The Cozy Café uses one of those non-dairy toppings. She was so anxious to get her daughter on her way. Her grandchildren are such a handful, you know.”
“Uh, huh,” Mercedes murmured. They’d screwed up Mr. Walton’s order again. Why they couldn’t understand that he flipped if they sent him the capsules instead of tablets she didn’t know, but she’d have to make a call. She checked her watch.
It was her own fault, standing here daydreaming about L.C. instead of focusing.
“I told Gladys she hasn’t seen a handful until she’s seen that Dayton—”
“Dayton’s settling in.” Mercedes counted the aspirin bottles and distributed them. One too many. No problem, she had to call anyway.
“Gladys said her grandchildren talk about a boy named Dayton. I said how funny that was because Dayton and Ayjia are staying here with you and she said what was the world coming to that we’re naming little girls after continents.”
“Mrs. Farley? I can’t make a mistake with these medications.”
“Goodness, no, you can’t.” She didn’t move.
Mercedes let out a long slow breath. Checked her watch.
“But I had to tell you,” Mrs. Farley said as she gathered her purse. “Gladys said her granddaughter was talking about a friend called Ayjia. So I suppose your sister’s children don’t have such unusual names after all. I’ll let you finish what you’re doing.”
Mercedes paused. “Mrs. Farley?” she called to the woman’s back. “Are you saying Gladys’s grandchildren know Dayton and Ayjia? Where are they from?”
“I think she said they would be taking the bus to Holbrook.”
“When?” Mercedes set down her clipboard.
“Gladys had to have them at the depot by three.”
“Do you have a phone number for Gladys?”
“Oh, they were all packed and ready to go from the mall. Why?”
Because the kids need their mother.
“The kids could have played,” Mercedes murmured, checking her watch. She would never get these medications put away in time to go to the school, pick up the children, drop them at the Y, then arrive to the bus depot to ask Gladys’s daughter if she knew Porsha. If she had any idea where, exactly, Porsha might have gone.
“Well, you’re obviously busy. I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Farley.” Mercedes bit her lip. She couldn’t leave the meds for another time. The residents were used to picking them up by four o’clock on Fridays, and even though everyone knew her office was off limits while the meds were in here, she never felt good about leaving them lying around. She couldn’t leave on a wild goose chase to the bus depot.
But Glady’s daughter might know where Porsha was.
Zack came to the door and dropped his backpack with a sigh, then rolled his shoulder as he studied his job board.
“I did the Wellington’s fence already.”
“Their dog rubbed it while it was wet, so it needs to be done again. Zack—” No, it was stupid. Even if Gladys’s daughter did know where Porsha was, it wasn’t like Mercedes could go get her. It wasn’t like she could fly to see her sister, face to face, and tell her how much her kids missed her. That they needed their mom.
“What?” Zack prompted.
She had paid him to watch the kids in the pool a few times and he’d played ping-pong with them on his own time. Listening in, she’d been reassured by the growing rapport between him and the kids. She could trust him.
“Is there any chance you could pick the kids up from school today and watch them for a bit at my place? I have to run an errand. I’d take them, but—” It might unfairly raise their hopes.
“I don’t mind. Want me to take them to the pool?”
“Maybe later. Ayjia can’t get into her new suit by herself. I’ll give you the key to my place. If you could just give them a juice and make them a peanut butter sandwich or something?”
“No problem.”
“I need my car. You’ll have to walk.”
“It’s only a few blocks.”
“You’re a lifesaver. Thanks! Let me call the school.” She had to write a note for the school records stating Zack was allowed to collect the kids. When she handed it over with her apartment key, she said, “There and back. No detours.”
“Aye, aye. I’ll just refill my water bottle and go.”
She put up the last of the meds, locked the boxes, and made the call to the drugstore, feeling vaguely anxious, like she was making a poor decision. No, she was getting great reviews on Zack from the residents. Everyone loved him. It wasn’t like she was asking L.C. to fetch them.
L.C.
Mercedes wouldn’t even consider what it would mean for her love life if she found Porsha and got her to take her kids back. No, she was doing this for the kids.
Nevertheless, she wanted to reassure herself Zack was able to pick them up without any problems, so when she climbed into her stifling car, she took the side road to the highway, so she would pass Zack and the children walking home. She would wave and make sure they knew she wouldn’t be long.
But the kids weren’t on the street and neither was Zack.
Weird.
Maybe there’d been a mix up at the school after all. Or maybe Zack had let them play on the playground for a few minutes. In this heat, he really ought to take them straight home.
She was cutting it fine, but she detoured all the way to the school where a few straggler parents herded children to cars. No one played on the gleaming slide or brightly colored monkey bars. Zack wasn’t there and neither were the kids.
That was really, really weird. Her stomach tightened further as she parked and ran into the school. They had to be here, getting a bandage for a scrape or waiting for Ayjia to tie her shoes.
No, Ayjia’s classroom was empty except for Miss Scott. She lifted her head from marking something and smiled a greeting at Mercedes.
“Did you get my message about letting Ayjia go with Zack?” Mercedes asked.
“I did, and he was here.” She nodded reassuringly.
“So they’re gone?” Mercedes said.
“As far as I know.” Miss Scott’s smile faded. “Is there a problem?”
“I don’t know.” Maybe Dayton had a detention. No, his classroom was abandoned. Mercedes began to sweat. She went back outside, circled the school, checked and rechecked the parking lot. Looked in her car.
Oh God, oh God. Her kids were gone.
Chapter 12
Mercedes had asked a favor. Seeing as she’d been avoiding him since their trip to the appliance store on Monday, L.C. looked forward to complying. It gave him an excuse to seek her out.
He fingered the list he’d found on the ping-pong table beneath the jar of wilted flowers Ayjia had left there. The note wasn’t personalized beyond Mercedes’s girlish printing: These are the jobs I told you about. Let me know what you think they’ll cost.
L.C. already knew what he thought. He could do all of these jobs for half what any general contractor would charge because he didn’t have a mortgage or overhead.
On the other hand, Zack ate a lot and wasn’t making great strides when it came to kicking in for groceries, so a few bucks for pizza would be nice. If the bill stretched to cover a babysitter and a quiet dinner for two...
Dreamer. Just like his old man. Forever chasing the least attainable skirt.
Stepping onto the mat in the courtyard, he waited for the doors to the main building to swoosh open. A rush of cool air hit him and he sighed as he entered.
Something twangy was playing on the country channel to an empty lounge. L.C. was tempted to change it over to rock videos, but Mercedes had warned him he could get away with some light blues, but he’d have to play his devil’s music outside the complex.