“Yes, honey.”
“Did you hear me? I’m freaking out here.”
“I heard you. This is very scary, I agree. Come here.” She gives Scarlett a long hug. “We’re going to be okay, you understand? I won’t let anything happen to you. Not now, not ever. But I do need to talk to you about something important.”
“If this is about the argument we had… I said I was sorry.”
“You did? I must have missed that.”
Scarlett blushes.
“I appreciate the apology. It’s not about our disagreement. Well, it is, but in a tangential way.”
“Twenty-five-cent word, Mom.”
Finally, a little normalcy. The color is coming back to Scarlett’s face, the fear receding from her eyes. The thought of her daughter scared just about kills her.
Darby smiles, gets up, and drops a quarter in the jar on the counter. When the kids were little, instead of a swear jar, she instituted a vocabulary jar. She figured it was a better game to reward than punish, because at what point does it become okay for them to swear? What less profane words were all right? What filthier words were out of bounds? No, this worked better for her little brood. Neither of whom swore in front of her, thank you very much.
She returned to the table. “You have your own group, and while I’m not happy about it, I understand why you’ve done this. I don’t blame you, and I’m not angry with you. I have a group, too. It’s bigger than yours, made up of families all over the country who’ve used sperm donors. It’s a support group of sorts. A lot of good friendships have been born there. But it’s a secret place, because some people who use sperm donors are ashamed, or embarrassed, or trying to save face.” She fends off the incipient question: “There are many, many reasons someone might need—or want—a sperm donor, and a thousand more why they might want to keep it private. It is not up to us to judge how anyone chooses to have a family or what they want people to know about them.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Good. Anyway. The woman who’s gone missing, Jillian Kemp, is a part of my group. I’m very, very worried about her. The problem is, Beverly Cooke was as well. She’s one of the ones who was there in a very private way, do you understand?”
Scarlett’s eyes are wide, recognizing the significance of this. “I take it this is a secret you’re sharing with me alone?”
“It’s something I’d appreciate you not discussing with anyone, yes. It’s not your story to tell, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. Now. The group made the decision to talk to the police because there is a connection between the two women.”
She sees the realization flash in her daughter’s eyes—if these two women who were in a group together went missing, her mother might as well. Darby hates it, hates that Scarlett is now even more frightened. Scaring her kid is not on the family game plan.
“Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise.”
“But you don’t know that.” Scarlett’s voice is small, the voice of a child who’s had a terrible nightmare and doesn’t want the light turned off again.
“I do know that, because we’re going to take a little trip. We’re going to scoot right on out of here so we don’t have to worry about anything.”
“What about work?”
“Unfortunately…” She sighs. “I haven’t been telling you the whole truth. I got laid off. They had to cut two salaries, and mine was the highest. I have unemployment starting, and a full recommendation, and I will find another job. That’s what I’ll be doing while you get those glorious long legs tan, looking for a new position.”
Scarlett looks scared again.
“But school…how will you afford…”
Darby rubs Scarlett’s arm affectionately. “Let me give you a life lesson, my darling daughter. Always, always, always keep at least six months of savings set aside to handle a situation like this. I’m highly specialized. I’ll find another job. In the meantime, I have a very hefty emergency fund.”
Scarlett looks oddly proud to hear this. “If Peyton’s back from his camping trip, can he come too?”
“Of course. We can drive by campus on our way to Destin and pick him up.”
“I have a big test tomorrow.”
“I will get you excused for the rest of the week, and you can make it up when we get back. Okay?”
“Okay!”
“Good. Pack, and then finish that history report so you can turn it in before we go. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
Scarlett starts for the stairs, then turns back and hugs Darby hard around the waist. “I’m really sorry about your friends,” she whispers, then darts up to her room.
Darby stands with the echo of her daughter’s arm and knows this is the right thing to do. An impromptu vacation is being reckless with that robust emergency fund, but getting away suddenly seems like the best way to handle the situation.
She goes online and finds a very inexpensive rental, a two-bedroom condo at a little spot near Destin that they’ve visited before. The season has just ended, so she gets it for a steal. Almost a steal. She books it for four nights. Come morning, they will be seven hours away from this madness.
Darby pulls the pizza from the freezer to give it a chance to thaw before she puts it in so it will get crispier, chops some mushrooms, straightens up the kitchen, pulls the laundry from the dryer, and carries the basket upstairs. Scarlett is whirling through the hallway from bedroom to bathroom, a grin on her face.
“Do you know where my red bikini is?”
“In your bottom drawer.”
“Peyton is going to be so stoked! I wish he’d call me back already.”
A thought strikes Darby. “Have you talked to your brother about the DNA matches?”
Scarlett looks down immediately, and Darby recognizes her daughter’s tell—she is trying to figure out how to answer. Not formulate a lie, just trying to decide what Darby wants to hear.
“Yes?” Darby raises her brows in question.
“I did tell him about the donor thing.”
She tries to keep her tone neutral. “You did?”
“It’s one of the things the Halves are really into, making sure everyone gets their siblings’ DNA into the system. It didn’t seem as big a deal since we have different donors, but they wanted to be sure. I asked and he said he would, but you know him. He’s never been worried about not having a dad, you know?”
Darby ignores that little stake to the heart. “You two talk about this?”
“Sure.” Scarlett pulls her hair up into fluffy ponytail; the scrunchie has trailing ends so it looks like she’s tied a polka dot scarf in her hair. “You like?”
“I do. Cute. Great for the beach. So, what else did Peyton have to say?”
“I mean, I asked him once if he was interested in meeting his donor, and he was like, no, no way, I don’t want to know anything about him. He thought I should leave well enough alone, too, but…”
Darby bites her lip and nods.
“Well, we’ll give him the option again of participating if he wants, but don’t push him. He has never expressed any interest to me either. I don’t want him to feel like there’s something wrong that he’s not interested, especially given how keen you are to find out everything you can.”