19. Heather

“ H ow far could he have gotten?” Kenny asked, pacing the living room in frustration. “How long has he been gone?”

Heather just whimpered. “He went to bed early and I didn’t go into his room because he hates that.”

Kenny nodded. “I know, but…” Then he shook his head and crouched down in front of her. “It’s not your fault.”

“It most certainly is,” she fired back. “My own kid leaves the house—maybe in the middle of the night—and I don’t know about it? Is he in a car? Flying? Taking a bus? I have no idea!”

She curled up on the corner of the sofa, reliving the moment that she realized her son had run away. What had started as a normal Saturday morning with no game, work, or event scheduled had rolled into nightmare status with no warning.

They’d actually been whispering out of respect for Marc and his teenage desperation to sleep as late as possible. Kenny had dropped Ava off so she and Maddie could spend the day working on a school project together, then left to visit one of his construction sites, fixing a problem that had cropped up. Heather had planned a day of readying her home for two more residents after the wedding.

She was giving up the spare room she rarely used so Ava would have her own room. It had never been an office or much of a guest room, but had sadly become a dumping ground for things they brought from Charleston but never really needed.

Heather completely lost track of time making piles for donation and trash. She’d gone through the hardest memories when they’d packed to move here, so she wasn’t terribly emotional, even when she’d come across something that belonged to Drew.

But when her stomach growled and she realized she’d never had breakfast, she pushed up and headed into the kitchen in search of food. Passing Marc’s bedroom door, she paused, feeling the inexplicable urge to check on him.

That, she knew now, had been the Holy Spirit.

When she opened his door and saw a neatly made bed, her heart fell. When she found a note on the bed, her hands shook. And when she read the words, she let out a blood-curdling scream that had Ava and Maddie running into the room.

She could still see his scratchy handwriting on a piece of paper torn from a school notebook.

Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’m fine. I just can’t stick around here for this wedding. I’m on my way home and I’ll be okay, I promise.

Marc

Not only hadn’t he texted, Marc had also turned off the tracker on his phone, so she had no idea where between here and Charleston—which she assumed he meant when he said “home”—her fifteen-year-old son could possibly be.

By the time she calmed down and they got Kenny here, she was fairly certain she knew what happened but still had no idea where her son was. Grandpa Andy seemed stunned by her call. None of Marc’s friends had a clue. And Aunt Blanche conveniently didn’t answer her phone.

Kenny stroked her arm every time her voice rose in panic.

“We can call the police,” he said. “We can have every flight out of Miami checked.”

“How would he get to Miami?”

“It’s not hard,” Ava said, leaning forward from where she and Maddie were tucked together on the loveseat, speaking gently. “I did the same thing when I was his age. Remember, Dad?”

He grunted at the unhappy memory. “Took ten years off my life when I found out you were down here and not at your aunt’s in Fort Lauderdale.”

“How did you do it again, Ava?” Heather asked, knowing she’d heard the story but forgetting the details.

“Dad shipped me off to my mom’s ex-sister-in-law in Fort Lauderdale?—”

“I didn’t ship you off .” He shot her a dark look. “I was…never mind. I was struggling.”

“So I was already in Florida,” Ava finished. “I wanted to meet Beck, since my grandma wrote a letter for her before she died. I took an Uber to Coconut Key to meet my ‘real’ grandmother.”

“A very, very expensive Uber,” Kenny added with a playful smile.

“Sorry I was a brat,” she said. “But it should give you hope, Heather. Look how awesome I turned out.”

She smiled because the exchange did give her hope. This difficult time would pass, but only if Marc was safe. Right now, that was all she cared about.

“Does he have money?” Kenny asked. “A credit card?”

“No credit card, but he has allowance money that I thought he’d spent on video games and such. He got a lot of gift cards and cash cards for Christmas from Blanche…” She closed her eyes and sniffed. “I know she’s behind this.”

“Let’s call her again,” Kenny said, pulling out his phone and sitting next to her. “She won’t recognize my number. What’s hers?”

Heather handed him her phone, too upset to go through the motions of sending the contact, but he did it, wonderfully calm in this crisis.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” she muttered, biting back more tears. “I just can’t.”

Instantly, Maddie was up, kneeling in front of her. Ava followed, the two of them with their hands on her legs, offering support.

“Do you want to pray?” Maddie asked softly. “I know that makes you feel better.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “I didn’t even think of that. Some Christian I am. Some lousy mother and terrible widow and?—”

“It’s ringing,” Kenny said, bringing her pity party to an end. “I’ll put it on speaker. Girls, stay quiet.”

They both nodded but kept their hands on Heather’s knees. Ava’s eyes were closed, and Heather knew she was praying, which folded her heart in half. What a wonderful stepdaughter she would be.

“Blanche Henderson, how can I help you?”

Only Blanche answered her personal cell like that. Obviously thinking the same thing, Maddie rolled her eyes.

“Blanche, this is Ken Gallagher.”

For a moment, she was dead silent. “As in Kenny?” she asked, that cutting edge in her voice. “What do you want?”

“Marc. Is he with you?”

“Not yet, but his plane hasn’t landed?—”

“His plane ?” Heather practically shrieked the question. Her son was on a plane, and she hadn’t even known it? “How is that possible? How is it legal? He’s fifteen years old and they let him fly alone?”

“Will you please calm down?” Blanche’s voice cut through the room, getting matching eyerolls from Maddie and Ava.

Heather stood, ready to fire everything she had, but Kenny put his hand on her shoulder, oozing strength and sanity as he eased her back on the sofa. She let out a sigh instead.

“He’s old enough to fly,” Blanche said. “I sent him a ticket and he used his phone and legal ID. It’s not a huge deal, for heaven’s sake. I also Venmo’d him the money to get to Miami, which he did very easily without you even knowing he’d left your house. Good parenting, Heather.”

“Oh, come on, Aunt Blanche!” Maddie exclaimed. “Stop being so mean to Mom. You know you shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” she replied. “That boy is miserable and wanted to come home. My father misses him. We all do. He doesn’t want to be down there for that farce of a wedding, and who can blame him? Your father hasn’t been gone that long, Maddie.”

“Mom’s happy,” she said. “You’re wrong about everything.”

Heather squeezed her hand. “Don’t fight with her,” she mouthed.

“Listen to me, Blanche,” Kenny said, his voice strong and authoritative. “I want to know what airline and flight he’s on and we want to talk to him the minute—the very minute—you have him in your sights. And then plan on seeing me in about twelve hours, because that’s how long it will take me to drive there. Enjoy your visit, because he’s coming home with me tonight.”

“I think you should let him decide that,” Blanche said.

“He’s fifteen years old and not an adult,” Kenny replied. “And I don’t think you want me to have you met at home by the police arresting you for kidnapping.”

“He’s not your son,” she fired back. “ You could be arrested for kidnapping.”

“Do not test me, Blanche,” he ground out.

“Oh, please!” She tried to sound dismissive, but for the first time, Heather heard a hitch of fear in the woman’s voice. She should be afraid. This was wrong on so many levels. “Fine. I’ll text the flight information and arrival time to this number. I’m on my way to the airport.”

“Have him call us immediately,” Kenny ordered.

“All right, all right.” With that, she hung up, leaving them all a little stunned.

Heather pushed up, her whole body shaking from the conversation while the girls ranted about how awful Blanche was. On a shaky breath, she headed into the kitchen, not even sure why but needing to burn off nervous energy.

“We know where he is,” Kenny said, following her.

“He’s in the air,” she replied. “Thirty thousand feet in the air and I didn’t even know it.”

“You know it now.”

She swallowed hard and turned to him. “This is a…” She wet her lips, choosing her words carefully. “This could be a…a closed door.”

“Do not give that woman so much power,” he insisted. “No doors are closed. Marc is acting out, just like Ava did. You heard her. Same age, similar situation. They lost a parent, and it rocks their foundation. Add on to it that he’s upset about his grandfather and probably really struggling with us getting…” His voice faded out as he realized what he was saying. “But he’s not calling the shots.”

“Isn’t he?” she challenged. “It feels very much like he’s in control right now.”

“Well, I’m driving up there,” he said. “I’ll bring him home.”

She studied him for a moment, thinking. “Wait until?—”

“Mom?” Maddie came into the kitchen. “Beck and Lovely just pulled in. I think Savannah’s on her way and Peyton, too. Probably Callie, some kids, and…more.”

She groaned, not sure she wanted to face all of them right then.

“They want to support you,” Kenny said, reaching to put his arm around her.

But she slipped out of his touch, hating herself for it, but way, way too upset for anything or anyone right then.

He let her go and didn’t follow as she walked back to the living room. On the way, she finally stopped to pray, but could barely find the words to ask for help.

There was strength in numbers, Heather realized. Somehow, her soon-to-be in-laws who were already dear friends swooped into her crisis and made things better. No, they couldn’t make the phone ring, but they circled her with love and support, humor and hugs, and just an appropriate amount of space when she needed it.

Which was right this minute, in fact.

With strict orders to get her if Marc called, Heather walked toward her room for a moment of quiet and prayer. On the way, she passed Maddie’s room and heard the comforter rustling, which was weird because both the girls were in the living room.

Stepping inside, she found Peyton on the edge of the bed, leaning over.

“Are you okay?”

She shot up, her eyes wide. “More Braxton Hicks,” she said. “I didn’t want to make a big deal with all this going on.”

“Do you want me to get Val?” Heather said, coming into the room. “I think he was about to leave to get everyone some food, but I’ll stop him if?—”

She waved her hand and shook her head. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s a false alarm. I should have stayed home, but I didn’t want to be alone or miss all this.”

“The family crisis?” Heather asked on a dry laugh, sitting next to Peyton.

“The family together in a crisis,” Peyton corrected. “We come together. It’s what we do. You know that.”

“I do and I’m grateful.” She put her hand on Peyton’s back. “Are you scared?”

She sighed and sat straighter, one hand on her admittedly large belly, the other on her lower back.

“Just of the unknown,” she confessed. “Everyone I talk to says giving birth is nothing like the books and videos—or movies—and that parenting is the same way. But we have this family”—she gestured toward the hall and sudden burst of laughter—“who seem to find Marc’s antics hilarious.”

“They find Savannah hilarious,” Heather said. “Marc’s going to be grounded for a month.”

“What’s going on in here?” Beck poked her head in the doorway, lifting her brows at Peyton. “You okay, honey?”

“I am, I just— oof !” She doubled over with a gasp.

“Peyton!” Beck launched into the room and Heather held her tighter.

“Ooh, is it baby time?” Savannah appeared out of nowhere, followed by Callie.

Peyton grunted and reached over to grab Heather’s leg. “This…is…bad. And, to be honest, that was like the third one in about five minutes.”

“I’ll get Val,” Callie said, rushing back into the hall.

“No, wait?—”

Beck cut Peyton off with a swipe of her hand. “Get him, Cal. Savannah, start timing.”

“Do you want to lay back, Peyton?” Heather asked, gently easing her toward Maddie’s pillow.

“I want to…hang on. Okay.” She exhaled with relief. “It’s better now. I feel better. That was just a lot harder than…” She looked up, her gaze on Beck, but not really focused. “This might be it.”

“Peyton!” Val came rushing in, his dark, good-looking features set in an expression of true concern. “Don’t try to be Superwoman, okay? When it’s time, it’s time.”

“I’m eight days early.”

“Doc said you were ready, babe. It might be time to roll.”

“Do you have her bag?” Savannah asked him.

“At home,” he said. “I can get it. Or take her to the hospital and someone else can bring her bag.” He sat on Peyton’s other side, putting his arm around her gently. “Hey. You promised you wouldn’t wait too long, remember?”

She nodded. “I just don’t want to spend a day in the hospital.”

“Better than delivering in a bedroom, like I did,” Savannah said. “Of course, it was a hurricane.”

Peyton looked up at her. “You scared the life out of us that night.”

Savannah shrugged. “I like drama. Not you, though. You like things just so, Pey. Go to the?—”

“Owww!” She blanched and buckled again.

“We’ll get the bag,” Savannah said. “And we’ll meet you at the hospital. Mom, you go with Val in case he needs backup.”

Everyone started moving at once, barking orders to each other, cooing support to Peyton, getting her out to the living room, where there was even more noise. So much that Heather didn’t hear her phone ringing until Maddie handed it to her.

“It’s Marc,” she whispered. “Go in your room and talk to him. I’ll send Kenny in.”

As dazed as Peyton, Heather took the phone and stared at her son’s name and a picture of him leaning on his baseball bat with a cocky grin after he hit a homerun.

He ran away . How was that even possible?

Slipping into her bedroom, she tapped the screen. “Honey?—”

“It’s me,” Blanche said.

“Where’s Marc?”

“He’s right here and you can talk to him when you’re calm.”

A shiver of fury shot through her. “Let me talk to him, Blanche. I swear to?—”

“Hold on, hold on. He’s getting his bag. He does want to talk to you, so just relax.”

Kenny walked in and he softly closed the bedroom door, blocking out the noise from the living room.

He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Put him on speaker,” he whispered.

“Okay.” She nodded and tapped the screen, the two of them sitting on her bed side by side.

“Hey, Mom.”

She let out a grunt of pure adrenaline and relief. “Marc. What the heck were you thinking?”

He was silent for a beat, long enough that she could picture his face, the set of his jaw—the one he’d just started shaving.

“Sorry if I scared you.”

“Out of my ever-loving mind,” she said. “Why did you leave?”

She heard him huff out a breath. “I don’t want to go to that wedding.”

“So you run away to Charleston? You get to Miami…when? And then fly to Charleston?” She hated that her voice rose in panic, but she still couldn’t wrap her head around what happened or how.

“It was Aunt Blanche’s idea.”

Why was she not surprised?

“Well, it was a bad idea.”

“Maybe, but I knew if I was there, you’d make me go and do some dumb thing like walk you down the aisle.”

She closed her eyes as the words hit their intended target and broke her heart. Kenny tightened his arm around her.

“You aren’t old enough to just leave this house, Marc. It was wrong. It was inexcusable.”

“Well, sorry, but I had to get out of there.”

The words cut her. “Why? Is it so bad here? We have a good life with a big family and you like school and… Why? Why did you leave?”

Kenny rubbed her back and whispered, “Don’t cry, babe.”

But how could she not?

“’Cause I’m mad,” he said, the words garbled but the message clear. “Dad died, like, you know, yesterday. At least it feels that way to me. I like Kenny. He’s nice. I like Coconut Key and all, but I think it’s too soon to have another dad.”

This time his voice cracked with tears, and she had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing while Kenny sat stone still.

“I do, Mom. I miss Dad. I just want him to come back!”

“I know, honey,” she said, her voice thick. “But that isn’t going to happen.”

“Then I want to be here where he was. With Grandpa. I’m going to stay with Grandpa. Please, Mom. Please let me stay. I’ll catch up in school and I’ll be okay, but I want to stay here.”

She looked at Kenny, his expression as broken as she felt.

“What should we do?” she mouthed.

He lifted a shoulder. “Let him stay.”

She swallowed hard. It felt like defeat. It felt like failure. And it sure felt like a closed door, because she wasn’t getting married without her son there.

“How long?” she managed to ask.

“Just until…after you get married.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “But I’m going to call Grandpa now. And every day. And you call me every day. Twice. More.”

“’Kay. Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“So am I. Bye, honey. I love you.”

“You, too.”

She hung up and practically fell into Kenny’s arms.

“Shh.” He stroked her shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

Would it? “I was going to ask him to walk me down the aisle,” she said on a sob. “He called it a dumb idea.”

“Then he’ll be busy, because I was going to ask him to be my best man.”

“Oh!” Heather exclaimed. “That would have been…” She sniffled and wiped her face. “But now he won’t even be there.”

“We don’t know that yet,” he said.

But Heather knew. Marc was as stubborn as his father, and she knew that once he made his mind up, nothing could change it.