“Let’s stay positive,” I said, even though I was wishing I hadn’t promised him, either. “I’ll go change, then go look for him.”
Lucinda checked her watch. “The press conference is on in half an hour. Aren’t you going to watch?”
“No,” Dom and I answered in unison, but Lucinda looked at us like we were crazy.
“Don’t you want to know what they say, about us?”
“We know what they’ll say.” I didn’t want to watch the press conference, and truth to tell, I needed distance from her. I had to get my bearings and I was worried about the dog. Not just for Ethan’s sake, but for my own. I hadn’t realized how much I loved the damn dog until this very moment.
Dom’s expression softened. “Lucinda, I’ll watch with you, then go to the store.”
“Okay,” Lucinda said, looking away from me.
I interjected, “I thought you’d want to call Mom or Melissa. Or hop on Facebook and get back in touch with everyone.”
“Not just yet.”
“I thought you were champing at the bit to—” I started to say, but it was coming out like criticism, so I shut up, newly awkward with my own wife.
“But then again, I don’t want them to find out from TV.” Lucinda bit her lip, uncertain. “I’ll call Melissa first. My mom won’t get it, over the phone.”
“Well, your choice. I’ll go with Ethan.” I hustled off toward the house.
Lucinda called after me, “Don’t you want to eat something first?”
“No, thanks!” I hurried under the house, feeling Lucinda’s eyes on my back.
I loved my wife and wanted to forgive her.
But I wasn’t Tig, and I wasn’t Dom.
So I had to figure out how.
Chapter Seventy-One
Ethan and I looked for Moonie in the backyard, then all around the property, and finally at my spot on the beach, where I had come our first day. The sun glistened on the bay, and a breeze rippled across its surface, making wavelets with twinkling crests. Seagulls squawked overhead, but there was no Blue Heron in sight.
Ethan took off, calling for the dog, but I stood on the sand, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I was supposed to be returning to my life, starting over, coming back to the things I could and couldn’t fix. I couldn’t fix the fact that Allison was gone. Or that I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive my wife. Or that the dog was missing.
“Dad, this way!” Ethan called, motioning back to the house.
We went back out to the street, calling for Moonie. We walked up the street and didn’t see him anywhere, nor did we see anyone else until we got to Thatcher’s. The old man was sitting in his ratty recliner, smoking a cigar, and we walked onto the lawn, where I waved to get his attention.
“Mr. Thatcher?”
Thatcher looked over, unplugging the cigar, and if he recognized me it didn’t show. Either he was keeping our secret or I looked that much different, which was entirely possible.
“Excuse me, have you seen a little white dog?”
“Nah!” Thatcher called back, so we kept going. The sun climbed the sky, and the air grew heavy with humidity. Ethan seemed not to notice, focused on finding the dog, calling and calling.
We circled the block, going down streets I had never been on, lined few and far between with empty vacation houses. Ethan was getting more upset as the afternoon wore on, and I was kicking myself for being so confident before. I didn’t know how much more loss the kid could take.
Two hours later, I was exhausted, aching in the ribs, and worried we weren’t going to find him. I stopped Ethan and put a hand on his shoulder. “Honey, maybe we should go back to the house, get something to eat, and—”
“I know, we should try the Ghost Forest!” Ethan brightened, newly excited. He wiped sweat from his forehead. “Remember when we went there, how Moonie was sniffing around? What if he remembered it?”
“It’s possible, but we shouldn’t get our hopes up—”
“Come on!” Ethan charged ahead, going back to the house. His skinny legs pumped, and I fell into stride behind him.
“Honey, I know I said we’ll find him, but I’m starting to worry we won’t. I could have been wrong.”
“We’ll find him, Dad. We’re going to find him.” Ethan nodded, leading with his chin. “I bet he’s in the Ghost Forest. He liked it there. Allison’s there. Remember we said we could feel her there?”
“Yes,” I answered, my heart sinking.
“What if Moonie could feel her too, and he wanted to be with her? I bet he misses her. Do you think he does?”
“I’m sure he does, but—”
“I think so too. He won’t forget her. He loves her. Like you said. You always have someone if you love them.”
“We’re going to find him. Don’t worry.” Ethan charged ahead, pushing his damp bangs from his face. “If he’s not in the Ghost Forest, he coulda gone home. You know, back to our real house, the one that burned down.”
Oh no. “Honey, that’s not possible.”
“Yes, it is, Dad. Dogs do that all the time. They go find their home, even if it’s far away. They know.”
I cringed, inwardly. “Our house was too far away. He doesn’t know the way and he couldn’t—”
“He knows a lot, Dad. He’s a smart dog. You didn’t think we’d get the cedar boxes, and we got them.”
“That’s true, but this is different.”
“Dogs have superior powers of smell, Dad. That’s their superpower, like yours is reading lips.” Ethan looked over with a grin, and I managed a smile, fresh out of superpowers. And compartments.
“I still don’t want you to keep your hopes—”
Ethan kept walking. “You know what’s my superpower, Dad?”
It struck me that we had never talked about his superpower. “No, what?”
“I never give up. Allison told me.” Ethan smiled. “We got in a fight and she said, ‘You never let it go,’ and later she said she was sorry and she said, ‘It’s good to never give up. It’s your superpower.’？”
My throat caught. “She was right.”
“She was.” Ethan picked up the pace. “We’ll find him in the Ghost Forest.”
“We’ll see,” I said, praying.
* * *
—
The Ghost Forest looked even more desolate in the daytime. The dead trees with their smooth white trunks and limbs looked like so many bones reaching into the sky, the fingers of a skeleton trying to pull heaven down. Or maybe it was my frame of mind. Despair and exhaustion swept over me, and I realized we weren’t going to find the dog.
“Moonie, Moonie!” Ethan kept calling, hoarse.
“Ethan, I think we should go back.”
“Not yet, Dad. You said not until dark.”
So we looked everywhere for the rest of the afternoon, getting bitten by horseflies and mosquitoes as we sloshed around in the brackish muck, our shirts clinging to our bodies and our sneakers tugged off our feet. The marshy water reeked, murky and black in large patches, even as it rushed out to the bay, obeying the laws of the moon.