If Eve had accepted that Bonnie was a spirit instead of trying to tell herself that she was a hallucination or dream, would she have been able to put her little girl’s soul at rest? The thought was unbearably painful. Joe was searching, trying to find answers, trying to set everything right for Nancy Jo. All these years Eve had only taken comfort, love, and survival from Bonnie. She had thought bringing her home was the one true answer, but what if it wasn’t? What if she could find some other way to give Bonnie what she needed? What if the solution had been there all along, and she had ignored it? Joe wasn’t ignoring anything, he was probing, questioning. “You’re a better person than I am, Joe. I believe I’d have a tendency to hide away from a truth as uncomfortable as this. Just do what you think is right. That always works for you and everyone around you.”
“Easy to say. The rules may be different.” He paused. “And I can’t make any mistakes now. He’s getting too close.” He shifted in bed. “Go to sleep. Staying awake and listening to me trying to sift through this thing isn’t going to do any good.”
“It’s doing good for me,” she said. “I’m learning what a fine man you are, Joe. I always knew it, but reinforcement is always welcome.”
“And it took a ghost to show you what a sterling character I am.”
“No, it took your response to the situation.” She pressed her lips to his shoulder. “And the knowledge that I’m still learning from you. Good night, Joe.”
He didn’t answer. His hand was gently stroking her hair, and he was still staring into the darkness.
Thinking, she realized. Trying to solve the puzzle. Trying to make everything come out right . . .
As he had tried to make everything all right for her all those years ago when she had been spiraling downward into a depression from which there probably would have been no return.
But there had been a return, and it had started that night over a year after she had lost Bonnie. She had gone to bed, and Joe had called her on her cell phone.
“I’m fine, Joe. It’s just a little cold.”
“A little cold that’s lasted over a month,” Joe said grimly. “Not surprising since you’ve practically stopped eating. You must have lost ten pounds in the last couple weeks.”
“You’re exaggerating. Maybe a few pounds.” She wished he’d just hang up. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep. She knew Joe meant well, but he kept at her all the time. To eat, to get more rest, to stop the constant frantic work, any work, that filled her days and kept her sane.
“If you’re not better tomorrow, I’m taking you to a doctor.”
“No, it’s just a cold, Joe.” She paused. “Any news?”
“Do you think I wouldn’t have told you right away? No news. We haven’t found her.”
Yes, she shouldn’t have asked the question. She knew it hurt Joe to have her do it. Yet she had to ask it every time. The question dominated every moment of her life since Bonnie had been taken over a year ago. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I think she’s alive and you’ll find her and bring her back to me. I’ve accepted that my Bonnie is dead.” But it still hurt to put that acceptance into words, and she had to stop for a minute. “It’s just that every night I’d put her to bed, tuck her in, and kiss her good night. It hurts me to think of her thrown away somewhere, out there all alone.”
“We’ll find her, Eve.”
“I know you will . . . someday. I want to go to sleep now, Joe. I’m very tired.”
He muttered a curse. “I’ll be over at ten to pick you up and take you to the doctor.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Thank you for everything, Joe. Good night.” She hung up.
She set her phone on the bedside table and turned out the light.
Go to sleep. There was no pain when she just let go and let the darkness carry her away. She was beginning to welcome, embrace, that darkness.
“But you can’t have it, Mama. You have to come back.”
Bonnie’s voice, Eve realized hazily. She was feverish. It couldn’t be Bonnie. Bonnie was lost . . .
“I’m not lost. I’m here with you. I’ll always be with you, Mama. Open your eyes and look at me.”
Eve slowly opened her eyes. Bonnie was sitting on the window seat with one leg tucked beneath her. She was wearing the Bugs Bunny T-shirt and jeans in which Eve had last seen her. “See?” Her smile lit her small face. “I’m here. Why are you so sad? We’re still together.”
“No, you’re—” She couldn’t say the word. Not when this Bonnie was so glowingly alive. “You’re a dream.”
“Am I? I don’t feel like a dream. But maybe you’re right. Does it matter?”
“No.” Not as long as she could see her smile, hear her voice. “I’ve missed you, baby.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Mama. But we’re together now. You should have known we’d be together. It just took a little while.” She leaned back against the alcove wall. “But Joe is scared you’re going to get really sick. You’ll have to get better so that he doesn’t worry so much.”
“I know. But sometimes it doesn’t seem to matter.”
“It matters to me. Everything you do matters to me.” She smiled. “So I know that you’ll do everything you can to get well and strong. Just like you used to tell me, Mama.” She chuckled. “Eat your vegetables. Wear your sweater. Don’t jump into puddles.”
Eve found herself smiling. “I promise I won’t jump into any puddles. And you didn’t pay attention to me as much as you should have, young lady.”
“But I always knew that everything you did was to keep me happy. You always wanted me to be happy.”
“I still want that, baby.”
