Lily is standing at her desk when I come in. She’s putting things into her bag, getting ready to leave. “Thank God I caught you,” I say, short of breath from walking so fast to her class. “Are you feeling any better?”
She turns to look at me. Lily looks drained, colorless. It could be the fluorescent lighting in the school, or it could just be Lily.
Still, she says, “Much. Thanks for asking.”
“Stomach flu?”
“Just something I ate, I think. But it’s all better now.”
“Good,” I say, watching out the window as school bus drivers start their engines and get ready to leave. It’s a process. The buses go first and then, when the buses are gone, the student parking lot empties, newly licensed drivers spinning out of the parking lot without looking where they’re going. It’s terrifying to watch. It’s only a matter of time before someone gets killed.
“I was just about to text you and see if everything is okay. I thought I heard you weren’t in school today,” Lily says.
“I wasn’t earlier,” I say. “I went to the police station.”
Lily stops what she’s doing. “Oh,” she says. She lowers her papers to the desk and turns to face me. “Why?” she asks, looking concerned. “What happened?”
“It’s Jake. He still isn’t home,” I say.
“But the police, Nina?” Lily asks, as if suggesting it was a bit over-the-top to go to the police. “You said you had a fight, right? I thought you were thinking he was just mad at you. Has something else happened?”
“Yes,” I say, pushing up on the sleeves of my shirt because it’s hot in Lily’s classroom. “Something has happened,” I say. “I heard from the hospital this morning. They said that Jake hasn’t been going to work. And a friend of his called looking for him. Jake hasn’t been returning his calls or texts either. Why wouldn’t he call him back?”
The temperature in this building is mercurial. The HVAC doesn’t work right, so that it’s hot as hell in some rooms, freezing cold in others. The kids always complain.
Lily must be hot too. She looks suddenly flushed. Her expression changes. She knows I’m right. It would have been irresponsible not to go to the police after all that. “Oh wow. Oh my God. I’m sorry, Nina. What did the police say?” she asks as she comes closer to hug me. “You must be so worried.”
I shrug. “The police didn’t say much.”
“Where do you think he is?” she asks, releasing me and stepping back to look at me. “Could he just need some space?”
“If I knew, I’d go to him.” At first I wanted to give him space. It’s the reason I never went to the hospital looking for him. But now I want to see him with my own eyes, to know that he’s okay.
“What are the police going to do?”
“I don’t even know, Lily,” I say, on the verge of breaking down. I lower myself into one of the student desks, cross my legs and say, “Maybe nothing. The truth is that people have a right to disappear. So I don’t know if they’re looking for him or not. They say that they are, but I don’t believe it.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” says Lily. “He’ll come home.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask. I know she means nothing by it. She’s only trying to make me feel better, but her words are empty, meaningless. I don’t hold it against her. She’s trying to be kind, but her words ring hollow.
Before Lily can respond, there’s a light rapping on the small window on the classroom door. When we look, Denise Brady’s face is pressed to the glass. Denise is another teacher at our school. I wave her in, giving Lily a look so that she’ll know to keep what I’ve told her between just her and me.
“Just the two ladies I was looking for,” Denise says, and I force a smile.
“Hey, Denise.”
Denise is older than either of us. She’s married and has kids of her own who are in college now, making her an authority on teenage behavior. Now that her kids are out of the house, she has time on her hands and is the kind of woman who hates to be bored. Denise leads the faculty book club and likes to plan things, like birthday dinners and the annual holiday and end-of-the-year parties. Today she’s here because one of the other English teachers is turning fifty in a couple weeks. Denise wants to get a small group of us together for a dinner out to celebrate. It sounds nice, but my head is light-years away from making dinner plans when all I can think about is Jake. Still, I go through the motions. I get out my phone and check my calendar for dates and we settle on October 10, as long as everyone else is free. Denise will check with the others and let Lily and me know. I put it down on my calendar in case but, even as I do, I’m wondering things like if Jake will be home by then or if he will still be missing or worse, and either way, I don’t think I will go.
“It’s a date, then!” says Denise before waving goodbye and moving toward the door to leave. She almost gets to the door. “Oh hey,” she says, and then she turns back to Lily. “I almost forgot to tell you, Lily,” she says. “My husband, Jim, says he saw you the other day.”
Lily makes a face. “No. I don’t think so,” she says.
“No, he did. He saw you, but he didn’t want to be a nuisance and so he didn’t stop you and say hello.”
“That’s silly. He should have just said something. I’m surprised he even knew who I was.” I can see Lily running through her mind the places she’s been this week and trying to picture Jim there, because that’s the same thing I would do. I’m terrible with faces. I don’t know that I’d know Jim if I saw him. I only met him once.
“He remembered you from that holiday party a few years back, the one at our house. He remembered both you and your husband. Christian, isn’t it?” Lily nods. “He had a long conversation with Christian that night. He remembers it still. He really enjoyed talking to him.”
People say kind things about Christian and Lily all the time. Everyone thinks they’re just the nicest couple.
“Where did he see me?” Lily asks, and then she turns away from Denise, going back to packing up the rest of her things.
Denise says, “That forest preserve, out near Lemont. I can’t remember the name of it. It’s just off Feeney, if I remember right. Gosh,” she says, looking up toward the ceiling as if the answer is written there somewhere on the tiles. “I haven’t been there myself in years. Something Woods.”
She can’t put her finger on it.
“Isn’t that Langley Woods?” I ask, despite having never been there myself. I’ve just heard of it.
“Yes!” she exclaims. “That’s it! Langley Woods.” She says how it’s beautiful and peaceful, a great place to hike and clear the head.
Lily looks over her shoulder at Denise, but I can see in her face that Lily’s mind was momentarily somewhere else, that she wasn’t listening.
“Where?” she asks, blinking.
Denise says it again. “The forest preserve. In Lemont. Langley Woods.”