Abandon

Chapter Thirty-Four

Senia

From perfect to jerk in less than two seconds. The only guy ever to tell me to shut up was Tar Heel point guard Kevin Brown during a particularly wild frat party my freshman year, and I slapped him then pissed in his lap. I was rip-roaring drunk at the time and I needed to pee really badly, but, still, no one tells me to shut up.

“Ma’am, do you know where they might have run off to?”

The security guard’s smooth brown skin comes into focus. “What?”

“Your friend? Do you know where he may have taken the girl?”

I shake my head. “He didn’t take the girl. That’s his fucking sister.”

“Ma’am, we’re just trying to keep the girl safe. There’s no need to use that kind of language.”

The other security guard next to him tilts his head as he stares at me with a skeptical expression on his boxy face. He’s probably judging me – judging all of us in his head. He thinks we’re in this situation because we’re trash or because we’re one of those families that’s addicted to drama. One of those families … Did I just refer to myself as part of Tristan’s family?

Holy shit. I need to find Tristan and Molly.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, pushing box-head out of my way as I stalk off toward the main hospital entrance.

I need to call Tristan and I need to call a cab so I can go get my car. I dial Tristan’s number, but he doesn’t answer. Tristan hardly ever has his ringer on. Most of the time, he doesn’t even have the phone set to vibrate. It’s just completely silent. He doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s practicing or socializing. But I made him set the phone to vibrate when we got off the plane earlier, in case Molly or Grandma Flo called him. If he’s not answering, he’s probably just ignoring me. Asshole.

I get his voicemail greeting and I try to think of what I’m going to say during the brief seconds while I listen to his voice: I’m not available. Leave a message. Beeeeep.

“I … I think there’s something you’re not telling me and I just want to know how I can help.”

I hang up the phone and try not to cry as I think of the little human swimming inside me right now. He or she is doomed to have a fiery temper with Tristan and me as parents. I wonder if she’ll have Tristan’s golden-brown hair or gray eyes or if he’ll be a clone of me, the way Abigail is a clone of Claire.

I wish Claire weren’t on her honeymoon. I need her. I need to know that this isn’t the end. I need to know that being this scared is normal.

I wipe the tears from my eyes as I walk past the Heart Center and Children’s Hospital where I brought Claire to see Abigail almost three months ago. I think I’m finally beginning to understand Claire more than I did just a few weeks ago. I just wish I could understand why Tristan is the way he is with his mother. There has to be more to his hatred than a tragic story of abandonment.

I open the browser app on my phone and begin searching for taxi companies. The smell of fresh snow in the courtyard is such a fresh, calming scent. I wish I could bottle it up and take it home with me. I close my eyes and breathe it in, let it wash away the doubts I have about my future with Tristan. I don’t see the patch of ice on the concrete stairs. One second I’m falling, falling through the smell of snow. The next second, everything is gone.