He turned on the oven. “Vanni, are you leaving me?”
She laughed at him. “For a few days. I’m taking the kids to Grants Pass. I’ve already talked to your mom and she’s going to help me with them and watch Matt for me. I could’ve called the Rutledges,” she said, speaking of little Matt’s biological grandparents. “But frankly, I’m not up to explaining Hannah to Carol just now. What I have to do is take Hannah to see her grandmother—I don’t know how sick she is. What if she doesn’t have long to live? What if I miss a chance to ask her questions about Hannah’s mother? There are things Hannah is going to need to know.” Vanni was rambling, talking more to herself than to Paul, it seemed. “There doesn’t appear to be family Terri was close to while growing up. I don’t dare waste a second. I’m afraid to even wait till the weekend. I’m going to pack tonight after the kids are in bed and leave right after breakfast.”
Paul was really sorry he hadn’t had that beer. It felt as if the ground was moving under his feet, things were shifting so quickly. He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled beer, popped the top and sat down at the kitchen table. Vanni was trying to referee dinner, two kids in two high chairs with Matt pretty adept at getting the food from his bowl to his mouth, while Hannah was just barely getting the occasional spoonful there. Her hands sure worked good, though.
“Hannah took steps today, Paul. All by herself. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” she said to the baby. “Such a big girl.” Then to Paul, “Her first birthday is coming up in just a month and we haven’t even talked about it. I got the digital camera out and took a few shots of her standing, but I want a movie camera. Right away. The digital will do a two-minute movie and that’s not good enough. I don’t care what usually happens—the second child in this house isn’t going to have an invisible childhood just because I’m really busy. Maybe I’ll pick one up on my way into Grants Pass so I can get some movies of Hannah with her grandma.”
Paul took a big slug of beer. Then he said, “Um, Vanni? I’m a little behind here, sweetheart.”
She turned and looked at him. “I’m sorry, darling. My head is spinning. I’ve been thinking so hard today, about everything. Hannah’s grandma, Terri’s mom, sent a big box full of memorabilia. Pictures of Terri, her cup and spoon, her stuffed puppy…Terri’s whole life fit in a box and her mother’s very sick with MS. I need to bring Hannah to see her right away.”
“Jack said you were trying to find Rick today….?”
“Oh, that. Uh-huh. I had to find out from Rick how he felt growing up, with his parents gone since he was a baby. He said he had his grandma to answer his questions about his mom and dad. If I don’t find out as much as I can about Terri while her mother is able to tell me, I won’t be able to answer Hannah’s questions when she’s older.”
“Oh,” Paul said dumbly, thunderstruck and afraid to ask anything more.
“I asked Rick if he felt he missed out on anything and he said, not really—his grandma was great. But there was one thing he said—it would have been nice to have had a regular family. A mom and a dad. Paul, I want Hannah to have a mom and a dad who love her. I have to get to work on that!”
Paul felt his eyes sting. “We’re keeping her?” he asked softly.
“As my friend Ellie would say, you’re damn skippy.”
Paul swallowed hard, afraid he might burst into tears. He took a drink of his beer and set it down. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a couple of days off, take you to Grants Pass…”
She focused on Paul. “Are you sure? I know you need to work. You have so many projects. And if we’re going to have a houseful of kids, you’re going to have to make a decent living.”
“I’ll call Dan Brady,” Paul said. “He loves it when I leave him in charge. I don’t want you to have to do this alone.”
Vanni got a little teary. “I looked through those pictures, Paul. And I realized that if I didn’t act soon, a real important part of Hannah’s babyhood could be lost. I don’t want her to have one month of her life without a mom and dad who adore her. While we’re in Grants Pass, we should give Mr. Hanson a call and tell him to get our paperwork going. Unless you have reservations.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m good with the idea. It’s all up to you.”
“Well, I had a lot of things to consider. But I thought about it just a little too long. Hannah calls me Mama. And she is not going to lose another mama. Not this precious girl. We need to get on the road first thing in the morning.”
He swallowed down his emotion. “Sure. Of course.” Filled with relief, his heart bursting with pride in his wife, with respect for her generosity and compassion, all he could do was get up from his chair and put a soft kiss on her brow. “Want me to do baths while you cook lasagna?”
“That would be good,” she said. “And please, don’t forget the hard-to-get places—neck wrinkles, backs of ears, between toes. Your mother checks those things.”
He laughed a little emotionally. “She does, huh?” And he thought how lucky he was to have a mom like that. And now both Hannah and Matt would have one like that, too. Fussy. Committed.
Noah was researching Arnold Gunterson again. Besides his age and current address the only thing Ellie could tell him was that Arnie said he grew up in Southern California. Noah found nothing to match. Nothing anywhere. In fact, his house was owned by a woman—he must be renting it. Noah even bit the bullet and plunked down a credit-card number to a couple of online-search companies and there was still nothing. Funny enough, he could look himself and George up on Google and get way too much information on a couple of relatively dull Presbyterian ministers.
Yet the only thing he could find on Arnold Gunterson was his marriage to and divorce from Ellie Baldwin, which was less than two years old. He wasn’t even pulling up Arnie’s current address or place of employment. And the Brightway Private Elementary School gave the bios for the board of directors, but only the names of the teaching staff and director.
There was something so eerie and sinister about those locks on the outside of the door, about the way he’d followed them, about his threats. Noah had a gut feeling there was a lot more to Arnie than met the eye. Upon researching, there was in fact less information than he expected.
But—as the principal of a private elementary school, there would have to be information available to the parents of prospective students, not to mention fingerprinting, which was required in almost all states. He would have a résumé; he would list his credentials and the universities from which he received them. There would probably be framed degrees on the walls and a packet of information for prospective students and their parents that outlined policies. Clearly, Arnold would not happily give any information to someone like Noah or Brie. Nor could Mel or Jack, Jo or Nick, or anyone who Arnold might have seen before visit the school and inquire.
Noah knew he needed more information.
He decided to get a few chores done to keep his hands busy while he was thinking. That old faded blue pickup he drove had been misfiring and sputtering a bit lately, so he went outside and got under the hood. Before long he found himself changing the points and plugs, cleaning off the battery, adding water to the radiator.
Jack wandered out of the bar and, as men will do, got his head under the hood, as well, lending a hand. While this was going on, Noah was thinking out loud, complaining about the lack of information he had on Arnold Gunterson and his inability to think of a way to get more.
“Wait a minute,” Jack finally said. “I know someone Arnold hasn’t seen before, and they happen to have an elementary-school-aged son.”
Before the afternoon was over Jack and Noah were talking to John and Paige Middleton about visiting a private school in Redway to discuss enrolling their son, Christopher. And to see what they could learn about the school and its director.
Sixteen
It seemed to Ellie that people were just a bit uncomfortable around her, as if they’d love to ask for the details about all that trash Arnie had spewed. Of course, she had explained to Vanessa and Jo Ellen immediately what parts were true, and what were just malicious attempts to make her look horrible. It was the vast number of people she didn’t know well that she imagined were looking at her strangely. Perhaps judgmentally. Perhaps thinking less of Noah because of her. There wasn’t much she could do about it, but it bothered her.
If it weren’t for that nagging worry, Ellie wouldn’t have a care in the world. She went home from her work at the church, showered off the paint and grime, and went to Jo’s to be with her kids. They were sitting at the kitchen table while Jo prepared dinner. Jo was asking Danielle spelling words for her upcoming test and Trevor was coloring.
“Can I help, Jo?” Ellie asked.
“After we finish our spelling, you can set the table. Danielle will help. Danielle, tell Mommy about your school.”
“It’s nice, Mama,” she said. “And I wish I could ride the bus, but Jo said not till we get more comfortable.”
“I would have to agree with that,” Ellie said. “Did you like the teacher?”
“Her name’s Mrs. Spencer, and she’s not even as old as you, Mama. And guess what? She says I’m a little bit ahead in the class. I took a couple of tests for her and she was very happy with me.”
“Wonderful. Did you make any friends?”
“Just the hello-goodbye friends. You know—the kind who are nice to you, but they have other, better friends. I kind of had to eat my lunch alone.”
Ellie’s heart ached. “Kind of?” she asked. She noticed that Jo smiled over her shoulder at Ellie.
“I went to a table by myself and then some other kids sat there, too. Except they were already together. So I was with them, but by myself.”
“Tomorrow Danielle is going to take some extra cookies in her lunch,” Jo said. “Sometimes if you have something to share, it gets conversation going.”
“There’s one boy in my class who’s in trouble all the time. I think he’s one of them hyperactive boys. He sits in the hall a lot when he makes Mrs. Spencer’s head hurt.”
“Why do you think that? That he’s hyperactive?”
“Mrs. Spencer said, ‘Joshua, did your mother remember your medicine this morning?’ and he said he wasn’t sure. And, Mama, he’s a wiggle worm and he makes a mess and picks his boogers.”
“Ew,” Ellie said. “Goodness.” She saw Jo’s shoulders shake with laughter.
“I don’t sit by him,” Danielle said. “But I like Mrs. Spencer. Mama, do you think I’ll be in that class very long?”
Oh, God, Ellie thought. She’s already worrying about moving again. “I don’t know, honey. We’re going to have to take it one day at a time.”
“Danielle, help your mother set the table and we’ll run through the spelling words one more time before bed,” Jo said. “How does that sound?”
“Good,” she said, putting her notebook aside.
“Set the table for five,” Jo said. “We’ll just eat in the kitchen tonight. And remember place mats.”
When dinner was done, Ellie got her kids ready for bed, then went back to the kitchen to help clean up dishes. Then back to the bathrooms to make sure they were cleaned up, tubs scoured, sinks wiped out, towels hung. And before long the house had quieted down, with only the sound of the TV in Nick’s den.
Jo came back to the kitchen after kisses good-night and got down a couple of mugs. “Will a cup of coffee keep you up?” she asked Ellie.
“Not if I just stick to one,” she said.
