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The Pieces We Keep(26)

By:Kristina McMorris


“Next!” the cashier called to them.

As Tess placed their order, Audra glanced back to confirm the kids’ whereabouts. She spotted Grace’s hat through gaps in the seated crowd, but balloons and tall strangers blocked her view of Jack.

“One pepperoni and three vegetarians,” the guy announced in the booth. He handed Tess the slices on flimsy paper plates.

Audra paid for her half and wrapped her fingers around all four drinks. She worked to keep a leisurely pace toward the tent. It was a thin line between cautious and paranoid.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Tess said. “There’s a new partner at Russ’s firm. Seems like a really nice guy. They’re having a celebration dinner for him at City Grill on Thursday. You should join us.”

“Let me guess. He just happens to be single.”

“Yeah? So?” Tess raised her volume as they threaded through the noisy dining area. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I’ve told you a gazillion times, Tess. I’m not interested in dating.”

“Who said anything about dating? Just a good old-fashioned roll in the hay would do you some good.”

An adjacent table of grizzled men snapped their faces toward Audra and away from their mound of nachos.

“Oops,” Tess said.

Lovely.

Avoiding all eye contact, Audra charged toward Grace’s beret, a sudden beacon of refuge. But Tess’s determination followed.

“You’ll come to the dinner though, right?”

“Sorry, can’t hear you.”

“Please?”

“Too much static. You’re breaking up.”

Several feet from the table, Audra noticed Grace was waiting alone. She was wearing earphones connected to an iPod in her hand. Audra set the drinks down and scanned the bustling area. “Where’s Jack?”

Tess tugged Grace’s earpieces free.

“Motherrr.”

“Where did Jack go?” Tess said.

The girl shrugged. “I thought he was with you guys.”

Audra flashed back to his vacant airplane seat, to the terror of not being able to reach him. “Grace, what did he say to you?”

“He just got up and left. I figured he was going back to see you in line.”

Oh, God ...

Audra’s gaze zipped from one bystander to another. “Jack!” she hollered across the tent. “Jack Hughes!”

“Don’t worry.” Tess placed a hand on Audra’s elbow. “He probably just went to the bathroom. Do you want me to go check?”

“No. No, I’ll go. You and Grace stay here in case I don’t see him before he comes back.” Audra shot off for the lineup of porto-potties beyond a towering bungee drop.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she heard Grace say before their voices waned.

Audra restrained herself from sprinting in order to view every boy along the way. A short queue of people waited at the blue portable stalls.

“Jack? Are you in there? It’s Mom! Answer me.”

The doors opened and closed. Strangers exited and entered.

“Has anyone seen a little boy? A seven-year-old, about this high?” She held her hand to her chest.

Heads shook in a stagger of nos.

Audra worked to control her breathing. She sped over the trampled grounds to reach another set of stalls. The results were no different. Panic bubbled beneath the surface, a geyser about to explode.

Then she remembered. “Cotton candy,” she said. That’s what he wanted. He must have gone on a hunt, too eager to wait.

She bumped past a teenaged couple who dragged their feet as they walked. Next she swerved around a family, their toddler leashed to a backpack.

No sign of Jack at the cotton-candy stand. Same for the one with corn dogs. And elephant ears. And caramel apples on a stick.

A ghoulish shriek wailed from the haunted house.

By now Jack could be back at the table. She fumbled through her jacket pockets to get her cell, before she recalled Tess wasn’t carrying a phone. Damn it all!

She raced all the way back to reach the edge of the canopy. On the opposite side, Tess was speaking to Security. She caught Audra’s gaze, and a look of despair gave the answer.

Audra’s thoughts launched into a spin. Round and round they went, like the linked carts of the Red Dragon, clicking and clacking on an oval track, picking up speed with every loop. She wanted to scream. She wanted to sob.

“Jack, please,” she whispered. “Where are you?”





12


The simmer had heated to a boil. On September 1, Hitler waltzed into Poland with the confidence of Fred Astaire. In the two days since, herds of civilians had evacuated from London in anticipation of aerial bombings. The German embassy advised all German residents to clear out of Britain; Brits in Germany, Vivian heard, were urged to do the same.