Read Online Stolen Grace by Arianne Richmonde - Free Book Online

up against Sylvia’s chest.
    Her voice was soothing. “Sylvia . . . go to your father, he needs you. This is life or death—you’d never forgive yourself. I know, believe me. I looked after my mom in the last stages of breast cancer. It was grueling, but the best decision I ever made in my life. I wouldn’t trade those last few weeks for anything in the world. Your dad will make it. I’m sure he will. But having you by his side will make all the difference.”
    “You’re right, I—” The phone was ringing. Sylvia raced to pick it up. It would be Tommy calling back.
    His voice was like balm to a wound. All her resentment melted away. She needed her husband more than ever.
    “Baby,” he said. “Are you okay? I figured there must be some kind of emergency, you calling at this hour.”
    Sylvia explained her quandary, her breath short, obligation strangling her like tenacious, wet ivy. Why did parents feel like children? Why the weight of responsibility? But that’s the way it was.
    “Well, Ruth is there, isn’t she?” Tommy said. “I’ll get on the first plane out of LA and come home. Gracie won’t be alone. And then Gracie and I can both come to Saginaw if need be. Or not. Depending on your dad. We’ll play it by ear. Get on that plane, anyhow.”
    “I’ve never left her alone before.”
    “Okay then, wait. But you said the next available seat wasn’t for twenty-four hours.”
    “Yes,” Sylvia said, her throat thick.
    “In other words, tomorrow.”
    “But I can’t—”
    “One day. That’s nothing! Ruth can drive you to the airport, then take Gracie to school—she’ll have her usual routine. I’ll be back shortly, and tomorrow, or the next day, she and I can both fly to Saginaw. I’ll sort the tickets out. What’s the big deal?”
    “Okay. But what if you can’t get a flight back home?”
    “As long as some earthquake doesn’t come ripping and roaring through LA, we should be fine.”
    “Okay. What about your new job?”
    “We’ll talk about that later. Your dad takes priority.”
    “I don’t know. Maybe I should just wait until there’s another seat for Grace.”
    Ruth, who was standing there, raised her eyebrows. She whispered, “It’s not my business, of course, but by that time, Sylvia, honey, your dad could have passed away. He needs you. Sylvia, this is an emergency.”
    Sylvia had her father in her mind’s eye; his stomach bloated from all the pills, his pallid face desperate. She said to Ruth, “I guess you’re right.”
    “Are you listening to me, Sylvia, baby?” Tommy was still on the line. “I’ll catch the next plane home.”
    “Wait one minute, Tommy.” She turned to Ruth. “Are you okay looking after Gracie until Tommy gets back? It’ll only be for the day—he’s catching the first plane he can. I could ask one of Grace’s school friend’s moms, although it’s a little short—”
    “Don’t be silly,”—Ruth jokingly rolled her eyes—“of course, I’ll look after her; I’d be delighted.”
    SYLVIA HATED FLYING. She panicked every time. The liquid allowance, and all the fuss airplane traveling entailed these days, drove her nuts. In her rush, and with the added panic of dropping Grace off at school on time, she realized that she’d forgotten her passport, but luckily not her driver’s license.
    As Sylvia drove to Riverton Airport, Ruth beside her in the passenger seat, she reeled off a list of instructions, as Ruth scribbled it all down in a notebook. Sylvia’s eyes were fixed on the road, almost without focusing, while Ruth then rambled on jollily about a boyfriend who had abandoned her on a backpacking trip on an Indonesian island (as things, he said, were “not going to work out”).
    “You know, Sylvia, I have something to say, that you may not think is important but . . . well . . . it’s something that has marked my life.”
    Sylvia glanced at her friend. She had been so preoccupied by her father, she hadn’t thought of much else.