CHAPTER Nineteen:

    Mrs. Jepsen leaned against the counter, staring over her glasses at Lauren. She’d been watching her ever since she’d arrived, trying to pry some information from her. 

She needed something to tell the women at the next knitting club meeting, and the town news had been quite dull the last week.

    Lauren ignored her and counted the jars of jam she’d brought. There were twenty, just like usual. Her pen scratched across the paper as she marked it down on the delivery chart. 

    “How are things really?” Mrs. Jepsen broke the silence.

    “Everything is great.” Lauren smiled warily. Any slip of her tongue and the whole town would be hearing some absurd story about her.

    “It must have been such a terrible shock to see your mother again!” Mrs. Jepsen knew it was old news, but she repeated it anyway. “She is coming back, I do hope so. What’s she doing anyway?”

    “So far as I know, job interviews.” Lauren pressed her lips together.

    “But you don’t believe her?” The woman clucked her tongue. “She is not a very trustworthy woman, after all. Not like you.”

    “What she does is her business, not mine.” Lauren straightened and hoped the conversation would end.

    “Ah... True, true.” Mrs. Jepsen nodded approvingly. “Have you heard from her lately?”

    “No.” 

    “Do you think she’s going to leave the girl with you, for good? Like she did with you?”

    Lauren knew the lady wouldn’t leave unless she’d gotten some little news tidbit. And the longer she stayed, the more personal the questions would get.

    “Maybe she will, maybe not. We’ll just have to wait and see. She sighed.

    The compassion in Mrs. Jepsen’s eyes vanished as she gasped. She always pretended to be surprised at any juicy news. And this was juicy. She could just picture it. The women huddled together, her telling them that she heard from Lauren herself that Charlotte was probably not coming back. Sure it was a little stretch of the truth. But not a big one.

    “Oh. Well, I suppose you’re right.” She held back a smile. “Remember dearie, if you ever, ever, need anyone to talk to, I am here.”
    With that flourish, she grabbed her bags and rushed out the door. Soon the whole town would know what had been said. Oh well, let them talk, thought Lauren.

 

ef

 

    After all the news of the cougar being sighted, Lauren decided something had to be done. To protect both Buttercup and Westley. 

    So, she called Grant Stevens up and asked for his help. 

    He arrived with a load of lumber, far too much for what she needed. Then he got to work. First, a little doghouse, with a sloped roof and space enough for Westley to grow. Then, a little henhouse for Buttercup, tucked under the porch and with a door that could close at night.

    “Thank you, Grant. They’re absolutely perfect.” Lauren smiled down at him.

    He put one last nail in and surveyed the doghouse, then stood up from his crouched position. 

    “I’d agree with you,” he said, picking up his tools, “but you know I’m not one to brag.”

    “Sure.” Lauren laughed at him.

    Grant put his tools in his truck, then turned back to her. 

    “So, how much are you charging? Are you alright with me paying you after I pay off all my other debts?” She asked.

    “Pfft.” He waved a hand and leaned back against his truck, watching as Westley went into his new home and curled up. “A lifetime’s worth of puppy visits would be plenty sufficient.”

    “I think that’s fair. You and Westley talk it over, and you can pick which day is best for your playdates,” she teased. “Oh wait. I have a perfect idea.”

    He groaned. “Are you getting what I think you’re getting?”

    She smiled mysteriously and went inside. While he was working on things, she’d gone through the garden and picked all the ripe produce. It only took a minute to make up a basket for him. Fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers and corn. A few small zucchinis. She tugged it off the counter and maneuvered around a squeaky floorboard on her way back to the door.

    Willow and Grant were sitting on the front steps when she returned. Each had a bottle of bubbles, which they were blowing across the lawn. It made a nice picture. Willow in her dainty pink tutu. Him in his tough leather jacket beside her. 

Lauren wished she had a camera so she could take a picture. She hid behind the screen door as Willow huffed in impatience.

    “I can’t get it to go.” She let out a frustrated breath.

    He dipped the wand back into the bottle and slowly showed her how to do it. She repeated him, this time a little more gently, and squealed in delight as she finally succeeded. He ruffled her hair fondly and smiled.

    After a moment, he turned around and noticed Lauren watching. He cleared his throat and stood up and she stepped outside. 

    “Thank you very much.” He took the basket from her. “Just as I expected. What would I do without you reminding me to eat my veggies?”

    “You would probably die of scurvy.” Lauren followed him off the porch. “You can give some to your parents, there’s plenty to spare.”
    “I can tell.” He pretended to struggle as he carried it, like the basket was full of rocks.

    They reached his truck and he set it inside, then turned back to Willow. 
    “You be good, you hear? Don’t forget your buddy, while I’m gone fighting crime!”

    She laughed and nodded. Lauren felt a raindrop land on her nose, and she looked up. The sky was getting darker by the minute. She didn’t mind, that’s what they needed.

    “Take care of yourself, Lauren. Let me know if you hear from your mother.”

    “I will. She probably won’t be in touch for a while, who knows how long.” 

    Grant climbed in behind the driver’s wheel. Before he could close the door, a car turned into the driveway. A very familiar car. He climbed out again and shut the door.

    “Willow, go into the house now, please,” Lauren called. “Quickly, I think there’s a storm coming and you don’t want to catch a cold.”

    Willow obeyed without questioning, shutting the door behind her.

    “Stormy in more than one way,” Grant muttered. “At least she’s come back.”

    A frown crossed Lauren’s face as she braced herself for a confrontation with her mother. Charlotte stepped out of her car, dressed once again to the nines. Another sundress, this one black, with red hemming around it. She wobbled a bit on her feet when she saw Lauren, but gave her a big smile anyway.

    “Hello!” She giggled. “I’m back.”

    Lauren’s fists clenched, until she could feel her nails digging into her palm. There was nothing remotely funny or carefree about the situation, and Charlotte’s lightheartedness grated on her nerves. Was it a joke to her that she’d disappeared and ignored all her calls? Did she expect Lauren to be friendly?

    “Stay calm,” Grant stepped closer to whisper in Lauren’s ear. “You can do this, I am right behind you.”

    “Who’s this?” Charlotte asked, giving him a big smile, as though she’d forgotten their meeting at the station.

    Lauren planted her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. I won’t let her get under my skin.

    “This is Officer Stevens.” She jerked her head to him. 

    Charlotte’s eyes widened, she looked nervous at his title.

    “The name is Grant,” he moved past Lauren to shake her hand. “We’ve met before.”

    Lauren glared at him. He didn’t have to be a gentleman at every moment. Charlotte wasn’t a dinner guest. She was a scoundrel, and she deserved no pleasantries. 

    Charlotte shook his hand, then clasped her hands behind her back. Her eyes shifted between the two of them and discomfort oozed from her.

    “So,” Lauren began, “where have you been for the last two weeks?”

    Her gaze dropped to her heels, and she fiddled with her purse. “Looking for a job.” She smiled softly. “You know how it is, it takes days for any employers to get back to you – that is if you even get in for an interview.”

    “No,” Lauren scowled. “I don’t know.”

    A muscle twitched in her jaw. Charlotte winced.

    Grant tugged at Lauren’s arm. “Give us a moment.”

    Charlotte stepped away to give them privacy, running a hand through her hair and taking a deep breath.

    “You know I will stay if you want me to,” Grant spoke in low tones. “You can count on me to be on your side. But if you want some privacy, if you’d rather not have me here, I will go.”

    Lauren nodded and ushered him towards his truck. He was keeping her calmer, but she didn’t want to load him down with all her family drama.

    “Alright.” He opened his car door. “Give her a chance. You know I would be the last one to deny she’s been a jerk. But everyone deserves the chance to explain. Once she’s done that, you can tell her to go on her way.”

    Lauren’s foot was tapping against the ground, and she barely heard a word he said. Her mind was too busy churning with all the things he wanted to say. 

    Grant gave her another worried look, then shut the car door and drove away.

    “You’re right, Lauren.” Charlotte watched him leave. “I should have called. But there was so much going on. Willow wasn’t too much trouble, I hope?”

    Did she honestly ask if it was too much trouble? Lauren shook her head. Now? What’s the point of asking that now? The raindrops were falling faster, threatening to break into a downpour. Lauren barely noticed. Her skin felt as though it was burning with fever, she was so angry.

    “Yes, yes, she was too much trouble!” She shouted it at Charlotte. “I don’t know what fantasy world you are living in, but this is the real world. Did you even care that I might lose the house in a few days? How am I supposed to magically juggle two jobs, a child, and debts?”

    “I had no idea...” Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, truly. If I’d known...”

    “Now you’re sorry? Guess what, it’s too late! It’s always too late with you!” Lauren’s vision was tinged with red and her eyes burned. “Were you the one watching grandma and grandpa age in front of your eyes? I saw them check the mail every day, waiting for a letter from you.” She pointed an accusing finger at her. “You weren’t there in the hospital. You weren’t there for me. You weren’t there when I buried them. Is that what you want for Willow?”

    Charlotte looked at her feet and pressed a hand to her mouth. She was crying now, but Lauren didn’t care.

    “Empty houses leave plenty of time for thinking. You broke their hearts. You. Killed. Them.” Lauren spat out the words she’d waited for so long to say. “You’re a selfish woman, Charlotte Quinley.”

    “Lauren, everything you’ve said is true.” She sobbed, and her voice broke. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for it all.”

    “Sorry isn’t enough!” Lauren’s voice was going hoarse from shouting. “They’re gone! Gone forever. They will never hear you say sorry.”

    Charlotte was shivering, her hair already soaking wet. Lauren knew her own must be too. 

    “You’ll never change!” 

    She hung her head, and walked past Lauren, towards the house. Lauren hoped she’d get her daughter and leave.

    She sat down on the muddy ground, and finally let herself cry, the way she had over those two graves. Only this time, it wasn’t grief. It was anger.

    Her hands unclenched, and they trembled. There were lines on her white palm. Westley’s pink nose pressed against her hands. He whimpered and climbed into her lap.

What would grandma say if she was here? She would have told Lauren to get up and take a deep breath. To try and understand. To trust her heavenly Father.

    But she was just angry, and all the words she’d screamed hadn’t made her feel any better. If anything, she felt more miserable.

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    Charlotte walked into the house through a haze of tears. She was trembling and sobbing, soaking wet.

     Of course, she hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but she also hadn’t expected anything quite so harsh.

    You killed them. The words echoed through her head, and she believed them. How could she have thought Lauren would forget everything she’d done? How could she have wanted, demanded that she forget?

    Willow’s shoes were neatly arranged on the shoe rack by the door, and her jacket hung on the coat rack. Charlotte would have to grab them on the way out.

    Down the hall she went, her pumps leaving muddy footprints on the pristine floors. The door to Lauren’s room was open. Willow’s suitcase was neatly pushed against the wall, and the bed was made.

    Charlotte backed out of the room and wiped her eyes, then went to the other bedroom. No Willow there either.

    “Where is she?” she said aloud, hiccuping. “Willow?”

    She wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. Charlotte had no choice but to go back outside and ask Lauren. She grabbed the suitcase on the way there and left it next to the door.

    “Lauren!” Her voice was rough from crying.

    A streak of lightning shot across the sky, and a deep rumble echoed back. Lauren was sitting in a heap in the driveway.

    “What?” she stood up and looked tired. Not angry, just tired.

    “Where’s Willow?”

    “In the house.” Lauren pushed back the strands of wet brown hair that had plastered themselves to her forehead. “I sent her inside before you came.”
    Panic started scratching at Charlotte. “I can’t find her!”
Lauren ran towards the porch, a worried expression on her face. Charlotte moved aside to let her in. Mud dripped from her boots as she flicked on the light switch.

    “Willow?” she croaked, “Where are you?”

    Charlotte didn’t understand the fear that was evident on Lauren’s face. She didn’t know what had happened, and how Lauren was afraid it was a replay. Only this time, Willow was alone.

    Lauren rand around the house, looking under the beds, under the tables. She looked more desperate by the second. Maybe the thunderstorm had frightened Willow. 

    But Willow was gone. The two women looked at one another, and understanding flashed through their eyes.

    “Dear God! Help me, please!” Lauren closed her eyes and ran onto the porch.

    They went around the yard, peeking in bushes and in the shed, calling her name. There was no response. 

    Charlotte pulled her cellphone from her pocket and handed it to Lauren. Her hands trembled as she dialled. 

    “Grant, come quickly. Willow is gone again.” The words sounded hollow.

    Again? Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

    “Thank you.” Lauren hung up.

    The sky was dark, only illuminated by the bright lightning, and rain was still coming down in sheets. Lauren dialled another number.

    “Riley!” She almost yelled it into the phone. “Willow’s gone. I thought she was in the house, but she has disappeared. Could you help us look?”

    Lauren received an affirmative answer and hung up again.

    Charlotte’s mind was going to all the worst places. Willow could get lost in the storm, she could fall and break a leg. Her blood ran cold with fear. What if there were wild animals around? 

    What a fool she’d been. Instead of showing up excited to see her daughter, she’d gotten into an argument with Lauren.

    “It’s all my fault,” Charlotte whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

    Lauren shook her head. “We are both to blame, and we will both find her.”

    The moments seemed to go by in a blur. Soon the police officer had arrived, and one of Lauren’s friends. They all shared the same tense expressions.

    The four spread out, some scouring the forest and some running through the fields surrounding the house. Riley went over to the neighbour’s place to see if Willow had gone there.

    Charlotte felt more hopeless with every passing minute. She’d already caused her parents’ death, and now her daughter was lost.

    She made up her mind. Once they found Willow, Charlotte would pack her bag, give Lauren all the money she had with her and leave.

    It wasn’t enough to atone for all her mistakes, but it was all she could do. Begging Lauren’s forgiveness had only been for herself.