Free Between by Kerry Schafer Page B

“No, you would have told me not to come at all.”
    He was right; she couldn’t argue that.
    “Look, Vivian, I don’t understand what you’re doing.”
    “I’m experiencing independence.”
    “But you could do that in Spokane. You could work at Sacred Heart or Holy Family—a real hospital, not in this podunk little town. It hurts me to see you living like this. So unnecessary—”
    His hand described a broad sweep around the apartment.
    “I like it,” she said. “Please don’t condescend.”
    “Vivian—”
    “Jared. I explained it once; I’ll explain it again. I’ve never had a chance to be on my own, to do my own thing. Spokane is too close to you, and to Isobel.”
    “Fine, then. Live here if it makes you happy. I’ll come up and visit on the weekends. In a year or so, when you’re tired of it, we can be together again.” His voice almost broke, and her heart softened.
    But there were no words, nothing to offer, no action she could take.
    “Jared—”
    He strode across the room to her and knelt at her feet, turning his face up to hers. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and she realized she had never, in the year that she’d known him, seen him cry.
    He pulled a little velvet box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside, a gold ring with a diamond that had to have cost him a fortune. Pressure built behind her eyes. “Oh, Jared,” she whispered, feeling loss as a hollow ache within her breast.
    He took her hands in both of his. Kissed them. “Vivian, please. I need you.”
    “I can’t.”
    “There’s someone else. There must be.”
    Again an image of the bookstore flamed across her mind’s eye, Zee’s hands and the contradiction they implied, strength and tenderness, the warrior and the artist. But she’d only just met him; one encounter meant nothing. “I’m not seeing anyone, Jared.”
    “I don’t believe you.” He was back on his feet, face flushed, his body taut.
    He startled when the phone rang. Not her cell phone, the house phone. She ignored it.
    “Answer it,” he said, his voice harsh.
    “It can wait.”
    “It’s him, isn’t it? Answer it!”
    “No—”
    He stalked across the floor and snatched up the receiver. “Who is this?”
    Her heart pounded as she watched him go still with listening, and then he turned and handed her the phone, his face a mixture of fury and shame.
    Vivian turned away from him to answer.
    “Vivian? It’s Melody at River Valley. We’ve got a problem—”
    “What happened?”
    “Your mother—well, she’s gone.”
    “What do you mean she’s gone?”
    “Gone. Vanished. She isn’t anywhere in the house.”
    Vivian closed her eyes, clutched the receiver until her fingers ached. “When did you see her?”
    “Half an hour ago. She went into the bathroom for a shower. The door was locked. I swear to God she can’t have come out into the house. We were watching—”
    “That’s not possible—”
None of this is possible.
    The voice on the other end dissolved into tears. “I know. I’m so sorry, but I swear on all things holy we were watching…”
    “The police?”
    “They’re looking for her.”
    “Call me if you hear anything. Anything at all.”
    Vivian’s body felt boneless, everything spinning away into madness and confusion.
Breathe, Vivian. In, out, feel the floor under your feet, find the center. What if there is no center?
She pulled the pendant into her hand, felt its warmth, thought about what Zee had said about the penguin moving in and out of realities with ease.
    “What is it?” Jared’s voice had softened.
    “My mother’s gone missing.”
    “I told you she needed a higher level of care.”
    “You wanted her locked up.”
    “She needs to be locked up. She’s crazy, Viv, you know—”
    “Something happened, something’s wrong—”
    “You wouldn’t listen to me—”
    She shook her head, held up her hand to gesture him off. “Go home, Jared. And don’t call me.”
    “Don’t be stupid. You need