I’d started to get resentful. So I tested the boundaries. I’d jump the fence and sneak to the lake. I’d walk around unsupervised. None of these excursions lasted long, but it was a rush, having freedom and secrets.
So I’d bragged to my friends that I could do whatever I wanted. They dared me to prove it. One day we made plans to meet and ride our bikes to the new BMX track. I’d set out while my mom was busy directing the gardener, the housekeepers and the kitchen staff. I rode my bike along the road, avoiding the freeway and commercial areas with traffic and people. I felt vindicated when I reached the meeting place on my own.
But after an hour I knew my friends were no-shows. Instead of returning home, I decided to ride to the BMX track by myself. After two hours of riding through the suburbs, I knew I was lost. Really lost.
Life was much harder in the days before cell phones. I’d seen pay phones, but I’d never needed to use one and I hadn’t thought to bring money with me anyway. I knew better than to talk to strangers; what if I knocked on their door and asked to use the phone and they locked me in the basement? I was better off out in the open, where I might see something familiar that would lead me back home.
Although I pedaled like mad, it seemed I was going in circles. Lost, alone, hungry and scared, with no idea what to do next, I took a break at a school playground. While I sat on the swings and cried, some kids stole my bike.
After walking for hours, I was sunburned. I had blisters on my feet. I was covered in bug bites. Night was falling and I feared being murdered in my sleep, so I vowed to myself I wouldn’t sleep.
Then I saw a police car. I ran to it, beating on the windows for the cop to open the door, and I was so relieved that I fainted.
When I came to, in an ambulance, my parents were there, both frantic and relieved. I’d never seen my dad cry, but right then he grabbed me and sobbed.
After I was discovered missing, my parents thought I’d been kidnapped. The cops had been looking for me all over town. Although I later learned they were sure I’d snuck off to go swimming and had drowned, and search and rescue had been notified they might have to dredge the lake.
The next morning my father took me into his office, so I knew I’d surpassed trouble and gone straight into big trouble.
He’d told me I’d never be an ordinary boy. That I had a bright future and I’d play an important part in the company that bore the family name, but I had to understand that responsibility came with a price. There were people who’d want to hurt me. There were people who’d try to persuade me to make bad decisions. There were people who’d use me. I had to assume that most people wanted something from me. So my search for freedom had resulted only in my seeing the entire cage—not just a small corner of it—far sooner than I would’ve liked.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Lennox asked.
I lifted my head and saw her leaning in the doorway. “Just some childhood memories.”
She sauntered over and perched on the edge of the bed. “Did those memories include a hyper but loveable dog named Sparky?”
“No. Why?”
“I always wanted a dog. Like Nana in Peter Pan or Shadow in Homeward Bound or even a Chihuahua like the Taco Bell dog.” She plucked fuzz off the flannel sheet. “But my mom said no to pets. I couldn’t even have a goldfish. So I love hearing about pets people had growing up.”
“We had an Irish wolfhound for a couple of years. After Cuddles got cancer and died, Mom said no more pets because we were all so upset.” I reached for her restless hand. “Did I snore too loud and chase you away last night?”
She looked at me. “Not at all. I went looking for a coffeemaker.”
“Did you find one?”
“No—and, buddy, you promised.”
“That I did.” I threw the covers back. “Coffee first. Then we’ll decide what we’re doing today after we hit the skiing trails.”
*
It was strange to be in the kitchen at the cabin in my pajamas with a woman I barely knew.
“It’s awkward, in the light of day, isn’t it?”
I looked up at her, wondering if I’d voiced that thought out loud. “What?”
“This.” She gestured between us. “We hiked in the dark last night. You came into my room after I was freaked out about the dark. Now, today, I’m wishing for gloom and snow.” She sipped her coffee. “Or maybe it’s awkward because I’m not who you wanted me to be.”
My eyes narrowed on her. “Explain that.”
“My wild days are in the past, Brady. After telling you about my crappy upbringing, it just reminded me that I don’t want to go back to that girl who fucked and fought and got high and danced on the bar and had nothing going for her. I’m sad and embarrassed for the girl who believed ink and piercings would say to the world, ‘Screw you, this is who I am, I’m unique, I don’t conform,’ when in reality I was just like everyone else having an identity crisis.” She closed her eyes. “That was an eye-opener, the day I realized that in running away from my mother, I was just like her. That’s when I stopped running and worked to have something different.”