FORTY-FIVE
A man in a black suit who identified himself simply as Bob walked me straight through Customs at Mexico City International Airport and put me on the first American Airlines flight back to Austin. No questions asked by anyone. It was a surreal feeling being back on a plane headed home after everything I’d just experienced in Mexico City. Joe was alive and safe. I couldn’t wait to see the explosion of joy come from my family when they received the shocking news. My girls would have Papa back. Taylor would have her dad. And Carol would have her husband again. Everything in my life could go back to normal, if I wanted it that way.
I thought about what Joe had said to me earlier. He felt like withholding the truth from Carol continued to be the best way to love and protect her. Did I feel the same?
This time, I slept hard on the flight. An airline attendant had to stir me awake after we’d landed around eight that evening in Austin. Once back in my Tahoe outside of the airport, I texted Taylor to let her know I’d finally wrapped things up with my client and would be headed out to the lake house shortly. She “hearted” my text and responded that the girls insisted on staying up to greet me. It felt so strange holding on to information that I knew was about to flip her world upside down in such a deeply meaningful way. But I had no choice. I had to follow the plan. I quickly stopped by our house, showered, put on fresh clothes, and then jumped back into my vehicle.
Forty minutes later, I pulled in front of the lake house. I sat there a moment, taking several deep breaths. It was hard to believe I had ended up here after everything that had happened this week. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. The plan was set to roll out the moment I sent a text to Greta, letting her know I’d arrived. At some point tonight, Joe would call Carol from the hospital to break the news, and the dominoes would begin falling from there.
One more deep breath. One more prayer of thanks.
Then I typed Here, sent the text, and went inside.
We were huddled around the kitchen table, playing a board game with the girls, when Carol’s phone finally rang on the counter. I glanced over, noted it was an area code for South Texas, felt chills race up my back. I handed the phone to my mother-in-law. I had been looking forward to this moment ever since I’d pulled Joe out of that dark room earlier today.
“Hello?” she casually answered.
Then she suddenly stood, her chair falling backward. “Joe . . . ?”
Taylor looked over at me with a wrinkled brow. I shrugged.
Carol covered her mouth with her free hand. “Is it . . . really . . . you?”
“Mom, what is it?” Taylor asked her.
“I can’t believe it,” Carol said, tears suddenly flooding her eyes.
“Nanny, what’s wrong?” Olivia asked.
Then Carol yelled, “I can’t believe it!”
Taylor stood, concerned. “Mom! What?”
My mother-in-law looked around at all of us with a smile that began to stretch across her whole face. “Joe is alive! Papa’s alive!”
We scrambled to pack up everything so that we could drive down to the border as fast as possible and be reunited with Joe. No one wanted to hang up the phone with him, so they just kept passing it back and forth to each other for a while. My girls were laughing and singing. Carol was dancing through the house. Taylor was damn near floating. I did my best to play my part, too, hugging everyone, laughing along with them, and celebrating the overwhelmingly good news. Joe and I even did a great job of faking it on the phone together.
I was changing my shirt in the master bathroom because Nicole had spilled her orange juice on me in the celebration when Taylor walked in to find me bare-chested in front of the mirror.
“You ready?” she said.
Her smile was back. I was so happy to see it again.
“Almost. Just getting changed.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What happened to your shoulder?”
I glanced down at my left shoulder, where a white medical patch covered the gash I’d gotten while running away from the police in Mexico City.
“Oh, I was in the garage this morning and tripped over Nicky’s scooter. Slammed my shoulder hard right into my toolbox.”
“Ouch,” she said, stepping up beside me. She gave my shoulder a little kiss. “Maybe I can make it all better later.”
She smiled again. I knew what she meant. But I couldn’t smile back. I just stood there feeling my insides suddenly twist up in absolute agony.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Uh . . . nothing.”