Stay Tuned Read online

  “ Elvis died…yes, today.”

  “The Watergate tapes…”

  And I had Mother’s knack for remembering events, names, and dates. I could easily memorize parts of speeches, quotations, and phrases. Though she didn’t say so, it seemed to please her. She’d applaud when I repeated key phrases in a CBS story. She’d smile when I discussed politics or the financial market.

  At eleven years old, I announced to my parents that I was going to travel the world and be a reporter. I remember that my father called me ‘adorable.’ My mother, on the other hand, gave me a rare hug and one of her private smiles. This, I thought, was the way to her heart.

  At sixteen, Mother introduced me at parties as her daughter, the girl destined to go overseas and make fabulous documentaries. At first, I was thrilled. But when the conversation immediately turned to box office numbers, Broadway plays, and bestsellers, it became clear I could never really compete. The best I could do was make a name for myself as an award-winning filmmaker or journalist. Maybe then, I would have my mother’s respect and attention.

  As it turned out, marriage and pregnancy got in the way. Mother stopped asking about my travel plans, my dream job. That was eighteen years ago.

  Today, I decided letting Mother off the hook wasn’t good enough anymore. I was her child, for God’s sake. She owed me some answers. Good or bad, I wanted to hear it. I summoned every ounce of courage I could.

  “That’s not what I meant to ask.” The words came out in pieces, stilted and awkward.

  Mother turned her head the slightest bit.

  My hand clenched the chair cushion. I sat up taller. “Mother, I need to know what you think about me. Are you proud of me? Your daughter?” I said it in a clear, loud voice, even though my mother wasn’t hard of hearing.

  When she didn’t answer, I grabbed the remote from the table and clicked off the television. The room took on a dark, eerie silence. For good measure, I tossed the remote on the bed, out of reach.

  Mother still didn’t move or look in my direction.

  So, I did the only thing I could. I left. And tried not to cry.

  Chapter 27

  Days later, the conversation with Mother still stung. I couldn’t let it go. She had rejected me. Her own daughter.

  That Saturday, I confessed it all to Candace, the words tumbling out of my mouth as quickly as Jaden and Addie scampered off to the playground.

  “That’s all she had to say? Rick Roberts is good-looking?” Candace asked, incredulous.

  “Handsome,” I corrected, and slid onto the bench across from Candace.

  “Whatever.” Candace stared at the sky and tossed her newly highlighted hair over her shoulder. “I just can’t believe she’s so…distant.”

  I shrugged. “It’s always been this way. Mother was forty when I was born. She wasn’t exactly thrilled to have a new baby getting in the way at her dinner parties.”

  Candace shielded her eyes to look for the twins. “It’s hard for anyone, at any age, to have children.” Shouts and laughter from the playground echoed through the trees. “I get stressed and frustrated. It doesn’t mean I don’t love the girls.”

  “But my mother didn’t want any children.” I swallowed and traced the edge of the picnic table with my finger. “Don’t you remember? When I decided to stay home with Kelly, she acted like I had committed some cardinal sin?”

  “Mel, that was your decision. The right one. You wanted to be there for Kelly.”

  My daughter’s sweet face flashed in front of me. “I know, but she still treated me like I was a failure,” I said. Thinking of it made everything seem raw and bitter: The air, the grass, even the blue sky. “Never mind,” I added, more a reminder to myself than Candace. She was probably sick to death of hearing the same story over and over.

  Candace tucked one knee up to her chest. “Dr. Phil says there is power in forgiveness. Meaning, the resentment toward your mother is making you cynical. It’s just building walls.” She leaned forward, hugging her leg. “Dr. Phil would say you’re in an emotional prison. If you let her lock you into the failure role, she wins. You spend the rest of your life trying to please her or getting her approval. The only way out is to forgive her.”

  “Are you sure you’re not working for Dr. Phil on the side?” I winked at Candace.

  She didn’t smile.

  “Okay,” I said. “So I just have to forgive Mother for the way she’s treated me, and then everything will be fine?”

  “Basically, yes.” Candace closed her eyes. “Melissa, she’s the only mother you’ve got. Accept it. She’s not going to change. You can.”

  I hated to admit she had a point. Letting it go would be the best thing I could do. For me. For my marriage. “Okay Mrs. Dr. Phil , I’ll try.”

  “Good! Now watch out,” Candace warned. “Here they come.”

  Hair glinting in the sunshine, Jaden and Addie ran to the picnic bench where we were sitting and threw themselves around my neck. I inhaled the sweet smell of little girl lip-gloss and Johnson’s Baby Shampoo while I buried my face in Jaden’s ponytail and tousled Addie’s curls.

  When I untangled both of them and held them out at arm’s length, they chattered louder than magpies. Identical except for a tiny beauty mark on Jaden’s cheek, Candace had them dressed in matching pink-smocked blouses and Capri pants.

  “Aunt Melissa, we’ve missed you. Where have you been?” Addie, the older of the two, had her hands on her hips.

  “You ran off before I could talk to you.” I smiled down at her. “I’ve been busy at work. Not much time for playing.”

  “Did Mama do your hair?” Jaden asked. She was five going on twenty-three, fashion aficionado, and clothes horse already. Candace had taught her well.

  “Yes, sweetie,” I replied. “Your mom fixed my hair all up.”

  Addie stared me up and down. “You look skinny,” she said in a stern voice. “Are you drinking your milk?” She shot Candace a concerned look. “Mama, tell her to drink her milk.”

  Jaden ran a finger along the edge of my Seven jeans. “I like these. Mama, can I have a pair?” Her eyes were wide and shining with appreciation.

  Candace reached out and hugged Jaden to her chest. “My little diva. I’m not so sure they make them in your size, darling. We’ll see.”

  Satisfied, Jaden pulled at Addie’s sleeve. A few other girls their age had floated into the park. “Let’s go.” she pleaded, “There’s Madison and Skylar.”

  Addie gave me a final stern look before turning around to join her sister. “Aunt Melissa, please drink your milk.”

  “Yes, baby, I will,” I threw up my arms in mock disbelief and then covered my mouth with both hands. “How does she know?” I whispered as we watched them run to the playground.

  “She just knows.” Candace chuckled, leaned back against the bench, and rolled her eyes to the sky. “That child doesn’t miss anything. She reminds me to make the beds, take out the trash, and clean the bathrooms. If I gave her a laptop and a Blackberry, things would be scary. Her teacher says she has to interrupt to get a word in edgewise.

  I lightly jabbed an elbow at Candace’s ribs. “Jaden, on the other hand, is going to leave you broke.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she exhaled. “Forget Limited Too and Gap Kids, she’s dragging me around to see stuff in Anthropologie and BCBG.”

  We basked in the sunlight as it filtered through the tree branches. It was a perfect day, not too cool, a lush green carpet of grass beneath our feet. Big, puffy clouds dotted the sky like whipped cream.

  “I could get used to this,” I murmured, “Be with the girls. Play all day, sleep all night.”

  Candace snorted. “That’s because they’re behaving. Before school this morning, neither one listened to a word I said. I threatened them within an inch of their lives and all of their Barbie dolls if they didn’t stop.”

  “But they’re so cute now. And I miss Kelly. Seeing them always makes me wish I’d had another baby.” The
words caught in my throat and I forced a cheerful look at Candace. “I can’t believe my baby’s at Berkeley.”

  Candace’s eyes met mine, but she didn’t have to say a word. We had analyzed the situation a hundred times. Maybe a thousand.

  Another baby? Chris had flat out refused. After Kelly was born, I was hit with a case of postpartum depression. Then, new-parent anxiety and sleep issues. Months into being a threesome, I was still grumpy, Chris was irritable, and baby Kelly cried on and off for hours.

  Then the fog lifted. Almost gone were the every-two-hour feedings, changing eighteen diapers in a day, and wearing clothes dotted with baby spit-up. After a full year passed, my obstetrician officially declared me “healthy,” and I decided to bring up the baby idea again.

  Silence. Then excuses from Chris. We’re just getting things back to normal. But Kelly just started sleeping through the night.

  What about the preeclampsia? What about the high blood pressure? Doctor bills? What about being on bed rest another four months? Who would take care of Kelly?

  “Wait a minute,” I protested. “I was the one who gave up my career to stay home. Shouldn’t I have a say in all of this? It’s my body , after all.”

  Stubborn didn’t begin to describe Chris’s attitude. He was a cement wall.

  Before Kelly’s third birthday, I brought it up one last time. “I really want to have another baby. Kelly could have a playmate. I’ll stay home with both of them for a while and then get my career back on track.” It sounded perfectly logical to me.

  For Chris, it was the last straw. “Work?” he replied tightly, the veins on his head starting to pop. “Don’t you realize that was the whole reason you ended up in the hospital during your pregnancy? Your job .” Chris rolled his eyes. “The long hours? All that time on your feet? The deadlines? Your body couldn’t handle it. You can’t have both.”

  I recoiled like I’d touched an electric fence. Chris held his ground. We never talked about it again.

  Chapter 28

  “Mother! Mother!” Jaden scampered toward us full speed. “I’m sooo thirsty.” She stopped two feet away, sighed deeply, and wiped at her forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Can you keep an eye out for Addie?” Candace stood and took Jaden’s hand. “I’ll get the cooler from the car.”

  I adjusted my sunglasses and assumed the babysitter role. Addie danced along the side of the wooden play equipment in her own little world. She talked to a butterfly, then chased after it. The bugs on the ground seemed to fascinate her, as did a playful pair of chipmunks.

  Picnic basket and cooler in hand, Candace and Jaden returned to the table. After three small sips of juice, Jaden skipped back to the seesaw and climbed aboard.

  Candace busied herself with setting out a tablecloth, plates, and napkins, every now and then taking time to glance at the girls. A furry brown and white puppy had appeared at the edge of the playground, yipping pitifully. Candace frowned, then softened when she saw one of the children in a bright red jumper take it by the leash and pet it.

  “It must be hers,” she mused. “It has a collar and leash. Jaden’s such an animal lover, I’m glad she didn’t head straight for the dog. I’d have to drag her back here kicking and screaming.”

  But Jaden seemed content on the seesaw, bouncing up and down with another girl about the same size. They laughed and talked, paying no attention to the puppy.

  I nodded and folded napkins, then changed the subject. “Did I tell you I have to attend the Boys and Girls Club Gala for the station?”

  Candace raised an eyebrow. This was her specialty. The moments she lived for; times when the three essentials in life all worked together to form some sort of religious experience.

  “What are you wearing?” she asked, glowing with excitement.

  I made myself stop chewing on the edge of my thumbnail. I knew the drill. Whatever I was about to say would be wrong, at which point Candace would offer her opinion and life-saving advice.

  “That little black dress? You know, the one with the criss-cross spaghetti straps in the back?” I offered.

  Candace wrinkled up her nose like I had said I’d be wearing a brown paper sack and pink bunny slippers. “No, no, no.” She shook her head vigorously, setting out juice boxes and soda in time to each rejection. “I’ll come up with something,” she said and unwrapped sandwiches.

  Addie wandered up to the table, one hand shielding her eyes. She paused, pursed her lips, and took a breath. “Mama, I can’t find Jaden.”

  Fear clawed at my chest, raking across my ribs. How long had it been? Five minutes? Longer? I turned and scanned the park.

  “Wait, sweetie, what?” Candace blinked, her face turning a pale granite-gray. Her jaw tensed.

  “Where is she, Mama?” Addie pouted, hands on her hips.

  Our eyes met over Addie’s head. I started to tremble. Candace was doing her best not to cry. She kneeled and clutched her daughter to her chest, hugging her tight, and looked up at me.

  “What should we do?” she mouthed.

  “Okay, let’s not panic,” I said, thinking that’s exactly what both of us were doing anyway. I rubbed at my temples, trying to focus. “When Jaden realizes she’s wandered too far, she’ll be looking for us here, right?”

  I sprinted a few yards to the right, scanned the playground, searched under the steps of the jungle gym, scouted behind trees and bushes, then jogged back to Addie and Candace. No Jaden.

  The tears in my best friend’s eyes threatened to spill over. Addie looked up at us, confused. Seeing her mother’s face, she began to whimper, “Mama, where is she?”

  Candace shook her head, unable to speak.

  I scooped Addie from her arms, put her on my hip, and held her close. “Shh, baby. We’ll find her.”

  “She was right there.” Candace’s voice caught. She clutched at her elbows, squeezing tight. Her voice was low and quiet. “She was on the see-saw. I was so busy talking about the Gala.”

  “We’re going to find her.” I touched Candace’s arm for emphasis. “Stay here. Addie and I will go look.”

  “What…what if someone took Jaden?” she whispered.

  Kidnapping had already crossed my mind ten times. There’d been an attempt a few weeks ago. I didn’t want to speculate. I couldn’t answer. I had to stay positive.

  “Candace,” I cleared my throat. “You call 9-1-1 and stay put, okay?”

  She gave a robotic nod and dialed the number. When the operator answered, Candace straightened and nodded in my direction. “Yes, it’s about my daughter.” She kept talking while Addie and I jogged toward the winding creek that ran through the center of the park. The whole area didn’t even cover two city blocks. She couldn’t have gone far, I tried to convince myself.

  Two girls sat by the trickle of water in the creek, giggling and talking. They stopped abruptly and stared up at me when I came closer.

  “Hello,” I said gently. I pointed at Addie’s outfit. “Did either of you happen to see a little girl dressed like this, except with a ponytail?”

  The one on the right shook her head vigorously. The older child, in a red jumper, looked thoughtfully at Addie. A surge of hope cursed through me.

  “Did you see her?” I prompted. A thought flashed into my head. “Where’s your doggie?” I asked. “Didn’t you have a little brown dog with you earlier?”

  “My Mother won’t let me have a dog,” said the girl stubbornly, kicking her foot at a clump of grass. “I wanted to keep her.”

  “So that wasn’t your dog?”

  The girl in the red jumper shook her head again.

  “Addie, did you see the doggie?” I whispered into her ear. A blank stare. She had been too busy chasing butterflies.

  A dead end. My heart sank.

  “The doggie went that way,” said the girl, who stood up and pointed at a little house across the road.

  Picking up Addie and holding her to my chest, I ran for the house. Please, please, please let
her be there.

  I crossed the road and looked up and down the street. No Jaden. I slowed down to walk into the front yard of the house where the girl had pointed. No one around. My heart thumped. I struggled to catch my breath.

  A bush rustled next to my foot. I peered through the leaves, but couldn’t see anything. The bush rustled again, more vigorously this time.

  “Jaden,” I called, “is that you?”

  Out popped the little brown dog. Tongue lolling, ready to play, he bounced toward us, his leash trailing behind him. I kneeled down to the ground to get a better look.

  “C’mere doggy,” I coaxed. A round gold piece of metal glinted at his throat.

  I moved closer. The puppy jumped back and barked, then wagged his tail.

  “Doggy, come!” Addie demanded, still clutched to my shoulder. “Why won’t he listen?”

  The dog cocked his head and looked at Addie. With a flick of his tail, he scampered back under the bush.

  I closed my eyes. Don’t panic. How many times did I have nightmares about losing Kelly when she was little, in the grocery store, at the mall?

  My head throbbed with frustration.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Elizabeth Smart, her father on television day after day, pleading for his daughter’s life. Natalie Holloway’s mother. The desperate search in Aruba. I couldn’t escape the hollow look in their eyes. The desperation in their words.

  As I walked and scanned the area surrounding the park, I tried to push the images away and focus on Jaden. The faces of more missing children filled my mind, crowding the corners. Places to hide sprang up all around the neat, tidy houses.

  Dammit, if I had to bring the entire WSGA news crew out here to look, I would.

  I started to turn back when I heard another sound.

  The voice of a little girl.

  Chapter 29

  My heart plummeted into my stomach. It wasn’t Jaden. A dark-haired little girl with coal-black eyes and curly pigtails peeked out at me from behind the house. She held half of a chocolate chip cookie in one hand and wore a telltale smear near her top lip. I guessed she was about Jaden’s age and size.