“Yes.” Megan’s voice cracked, and if she hadn’t already been devoid of tears she knew she would have broken down and cried. “So am I.” She blinked her eyes and felt the rough, grainy drag of the lids.
“How do you know Joey?”
“We work together. At the Kettle O’ Fish.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned you.”
“He didn’t mention he was seventeen either. Until last night.”
“And you’re—?”
“Twenty-three.” Jenny hurried on. “We’re not dating. We just went out together. Last night. First time.”
“Out?”
“To a dance club.”
The announcement took Megan by surprise. “Joey isn’t old enough to go to a club.”
“He had fake ID.”
Megan took that in. On any other morning while finding all of this out, she would have planned on grounding Joey within an inch of his life. Maybe even until he moved out of the home. But after last night she was going to content herself with knowing he was all right.
Jenny frowned, obviously not happy. “This isn’t coming out very good, is it?”
Megan shook her head. “No. Do you drink coffee?”
“Not really.”
“Cocoa?”
“Sure.”
“Let me check on Joey and I’ll make us some cocoa. We can figure out what we’re going to do next.”
“All right.”
Megan went down the hall and peeked in through the open door. Joey was asleep in Chris’s bed. He was holding Chris’s favorite stuffed bear. The sight broke Megan’s heart all over again.
Oh God, why have You let this happen? Have You forsaken us?
Steeling herself, Megan turned from the door and went into the kitchen.
Small and modest, trimmed in yellow and off-white, the kitchen smelled of spiced apples. Jenny sat at the small round table and looked painfully uncomfortable.
Megan switched on the small TV on the baking rack near the stove, then went to the cupboards and started rummaging through them for baker’s chocolate, salt, and sugar. She put a cup of water and two squares of the chocolate into a small pan and started to heat them.
“I hope you don’t mind if I watch television while we talk,” Megan said.
“No,” Jenny replied.
The television cleared and showed FOX News. The footage currently rolling involved the disappearances that had taken place around the world. Megan already knew that the incidents were international in scope. She’d watched the news in her bedroom till she’d mercifully fallen asleep while waiting to wake from the nightmare she felt she surely had to be trapped in.
“Joey said your husband was over in Turkey,” Jenny said.
“He is,” Megan acknowledged. “Your husband.” Are those Joey’s words or yours? She knew Joey felt some alienation from Goose’s affection. Some of it was because of Joey’s age and Goose’s frequent absences, Megan was sure. But sibling rivalry was also a big issue, especially at the age Chris was getting to be. Had been. There will be no number six.
“So far, the Syrian army hasn’t tried to attack Turkey anymore,” Jenny said. “The media is reporting that the Rangers are digging in there. There’s some speculation that they might try to hold the border, but the experts FOX and CNN has had on say that can’t be done.”
“Makes you hope the Syrian military command isn’t watching the news.”
“I know.”
Now that the water and chocolate had melted, Megan added a pinch of salt, three tablespoons of sugar, and three cups of milk. “They haven’t—” when her voice tightened, she concentrated on stirring—“haven’t released the names of any of the dead, have they?”
“No.”
“Well, then we still have hope.” But Megan didn’t know how she was going to tell Goose that Chris was missing. Or how she was going to deal with anything if Goose was one of the casualties of the war that had broken out in the turbulent Middle East.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Bring back my baby, Megan thought immediately. Let me know my husband is all right. She took a deep breath and continued stirring. “Look in the pantry, if you don’t mind.” She pointed the way. “I think there may be some plain bagels in there we can heat up. Even if you’re not hungry, you should eat something.”
Jenny got up, crossed to the pantry, and took down the bagels. She joined Megan at the counter. Megan handed the young woman a knife and she began slicing the bagels in half, leaving them openfaced.
“Microwave or toaster?” Jenny asked.
“I like mine from the toaster,” Megan answered.
“So do I.” Jenny popped the bagels into the oversized toaster. “Do you think we should wake Joey?”
Megan considered the prospect only briefly. “No. Let him sleep.” There was no sense in getting him up for the day before he was ready for it. They had too much tragedy to face. And Megan already felt a little uncomfortable with the young woman in the house without adding her son into the mix.
“Just so you know, Mrs. Gander,” Jenny said, “I had no intention of dating Joey. Even before I found out he had been lying about his age.”
“But you went out with him to this club.”
“As friends. But I don’t think he knew that.”
“Oh.”
Jenny looked at her. “He may not like me much after he gets up this morning, but after I found out your husband was over in Turkey and that you had called Joey to come get Chris—” she took a deep breath—“well, I didn’t want him to be alone.”
“That was very considerate of you.”
“Joey’s a nice guy.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Jenny waved to her attire. “It’s not that I don’t date nice guys, Mrs. Gander. I just don’t date.”
For a brief moment, Megan saw pain glint in the young woman’s eyes. But the emotion was quickly hidden away, like a person with a long-standing injury would pull away from a casual touch from someone who didn’t know better.
“Your car wasn’t his fault either,” Jenny said. “The driver of the truck that ran into us was one of the people that disappeared last night.”
Only then did Megan remember that the car was a disaster. “I’ll have to call the insurance company.”
“I don’t know if
