twelve
Beryl
Ididn’t hear from Noah on Friday or Saturday and although I missed his silly texts, I know we were both busy. I’ve seen a good number of the gymnasts’ families sharing treats from Choco-Love bags while watching the competition. With a few snafus and just the general chaos of the meet, I haven’t had time to text either.
But when he doesn’t show up for Devin’s demonstration I can’t ignore the silence any longer. My fingers shake as I text Tegan.
Noah’s not at the demonstration. Do you know where he is?
Thought he was with you.
Haven’t seen or heard from him since Thursday
.
Hasn’t been here either. He left us fully stocked. Since he didn’t plan to work the weekend I expected you to be together.
Worried. I’m coming over.
Hurry.
I find my mom in the hallway outside the snack room. “I’ve got to go. Can Devin stay with you?”
“Of course. Honey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“Noah…” It takes me a long time to form the words and push them past the dread tightening my throat. “He disappeared.”
Mom’s eyes go wide then she takes my hand, pulls me into the snack room and shuts the door. My lower lip trembles. When she opens her arms I rush into her embrace. She rubs tiny circles on my back like she did when I was little and allows me to cry. When my tears slow, she makes me sit at one of the tables, finds a stack of napkins and hands them to me.
“Honey, he wouldn’t do that again. He loves you.”
“That’s… that’s what I thought before.” I crush a napkin into a tight ball.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
A rise of anger makes my voice harsh. “He’d better not wait another nine years before telling me. Oh, Mom. What should I do?”
“Have you talked to his sister?”
“She doesn’t know where he is either. I’m going to the shop and maybe we can figure out why he left. Where he went.”
“That’s a good plan. Promise me you’ll keep an open mind. The two of you love each other now. Don’t give that up because of the past.”
“Isn’t there some saying about the past repeating itself?”
She drums her finger on the table. “There’s some stupid saying about every situation. Just go. When you see him, make sure to listen with your heart as well as your head.” She pushes to her feet. “Don’t worry about Devin and me. We’ll be fine. This will give us an opportunity to build Legos together.”
“You didn’t buy him another set, did you?” Devin loves Legos and Mom spoils him.
“No, dear. I didn’t. I bought one for myself. He’s just helping me. Now go. I’ll cover if anyone has questions.”
I kiss her cheek. “I love you, Mom.”
I pull into the parking spot behind Choco-Love where Noah’s SUV is usually parked. Tegan is waiting at the back door but instead of entering the shop, she takes my hand and we go upstairs to the apartment. “I closed the store early. Put a family emergency sign on the door.”
“Where do you think he is?”
She holds up a piece of note paper. “I went searching in the office after your texts. Found this.”
I sit on the couch to read the scrawled note:
Problem with receiving shipment of beans that Winston can’t handle. Picking up cargo at Georgetown docks. Back later tonight.
N.
“Before you ask,Winston is a customs broker. He takes care of paperwork and the official details for cacao beans. I asked Brooke if she knew when he wrote this and she said Thursday.”
“That’s four days.”
“I know, Beryl. I’ve tried texting and calling Noah, but the phone just goes to voicemail. So I called Winston. He said he left Noah loading our cargo into his SUV early Thursday evening. Hasn’t heard anything from him since then.”
Slow tears trail down my cheeks. “He’s gone again. What did I do this time to make him leave?”
Tegan sits facing me and rests her hands on my shoulders. Then she gives me a shake. “Stop that. Noah loves you too much to run away again. He’s not the man he was then. Think, Beryl. You know what I’m saying is true.”
Shaking my head back and forth, I still try to deny the truth in her words. “He’s gone.”
Leaning back she crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at me. “Listen to me. He put too much time, effort, and money into Choco-Love to go running off for no reason.”
“I’m the reason.”
“Bullshit. You were never the reason. It was all him. You, me, we were just emotional collateral damage. He’s redeemed himself in my eyes. My brother is a kind, caring man. Successful. He’s been planning his future around you. Don’t let the past color what your future could be.”
I give a watery chuckle. “You sound like my mom.”
She rolls her gaze to the ceiling. “I don’t know whether to add sarcasm or not to my ‘thanks’ for that one.”
“No sarcasm. You’re both convinced Noah loves me. And you know I love him. I always have. I’m trying to believe he wouldn’t leave me like this again. I’ve—no, you’ve mostly convinced me. But now what do we do?”
“I think we need to get to Georgetown as fast as possible. You want to drive or shall I?”
* * *
Noah
A couple daysin the hospital has started healing my body, but my mind is still a confused jumble of partial thoughts. At least the pounding throb in my head has dulled and I struggle to string those thoughts together into a coherent thought. I know I’m supposed to be somewhere. Then for the past few hours, I’ve been smelling chocolate.
As of yesterday the cops still have no idea who I am and why I was at the docks. Today they’re going to take my fingerprints to see if they can find me in some database. I’m tired of being a John Doe, because one thing I know is my name sure as hell isn’t John.
A nutrition aide enters the room with my breakfast tray. “Good morning, Mr. John.”
Yeah, no sense of recognition. She sets the tray on the over the bed table. “You’re looking better today.”
“Every day’s a little better. What’s for lunch?” I hate asking because I know we filled out my meal request yesterday, but I don’t remember what options I chose. Fuck, this memory loss is bullshit.
“Your usual tea,” she begins.
Tea? Something’s shoving, clawing at my brain. Feels like a bulldozer crashing through a wall.
“Chicken with rice and broccoli,” she says as she lifts the cloche from the plate. “Oh, nice. Fresh berries.”
Berries? Tea? Focus damn it. Berries. Beri. Beryl.
The wall crashes down.
My hand shakes as I reach for my call light. I’m afraid if I move too fast, think too much, I’ll lose myself again.
The aide moves toward the door. “Enjoy your meal, Mr. John.”
She passes a nurse on the way out. “What can I help you with, Mr. John?”
Under the appraising eye of my favorite nurse, I lift my chin. My grin tugs at the healing cut on my lower lip. “I know who I am. I need to make a phone call.”
Of course with the usual hospital efficiency, combined with a visit from a police officer, it’s the middle of the afternoon before someone finally places the phone where I can reach it. Praying I remember the shop’s phone number accurately I juggle the receiver with my usable hand and dial. If no one answers the shop phone, the call will transfer to my sister’s cell.
Four long rings later, a tentative voice answers, “Hello?”