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“You’ve been really, really helpful,” my mom said. “You get to work, and I’ll watch it at home.” She stood up and turned her head before he could see her get teary-eyed again, but her voice couldn’t hide it. “I just feel so helpless. Like there’s nothing I can do. This gives me something at least.”
Ken awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything else. And please let me know when you find her. I’ll ask around to anyone else who was on shift yesterday to see if they noticed anything.” I wished again that I could hug him as I followed my mom back to her car.
She kept it together as she drove out of the parking lot then pulled over on a side street that turned into the strip mall to cry.
Her phone pinged once, announcing the incoming email from Ken with the footage. Then again, with a text from my dad. His flight had just taken off. He’d be there in two hours.
* * *
The blue Kia cruised through the footage five times before my shift ended, on the hour. Each time, he pulled into the back corner of the lot, facing the front of the building. Stayed parked for a while. Then drove away.
He had been waiting for me to get off shift.
Each time I saw the blue car, the video briefly froze as my excitement and horror bubbled up.
At first I was hopeful that the freeze-frame would make it easier for my mom to recognize the car as the same one that kept appearing in the parking lot. But of the hundreds of cars that moved into the lot in fast-forward, she didn’t notice the Kia. She just got panicky that the video was doing something trippy and started muttering a prayer that it wouldn’t crash.
Every few minutes, she checked her phone and felt for the ringer to make sure that it was turned on and that she hadn’t missed a call.
She hadn’t.
* * *
My dad looked like he hadn’t slept.
When he saw my mom’s puffy face, his own eyes got red but he grimaced and waved her off. “It’s gonna be okay, Mari. Let's not waste time getting emotional.”
My mom bit her lip but said nothing as he dragged the suitcase through the front door, intentionally not looking at the photos of me lining the hallway.
I suddenly remembered in stunning clarity the time we had to put my cat Snickers to sleep. It was right before he moved away. When I was in third grade. I hadn’t understood what “putting Snickers out of her misery” meant, even though I was old enough that I should have. Especially given that Snickers had just gotten caught in the garage door. I guess I thought they were going to help her. Put her out of her misery and make her better again.
She cried pitiful frail mewls while my dad wrapped her in an old beach towel and my mom hurried to call the vet to see if they were still open. I stroked her black-and-white head, careful not to touch the line of dark red coming from one ear.
When my dad came home from the vet without the cat an hour later, I couldn’t stop crying. I had told her it would be okay. And I hadn’t said goodbye. Not really.
My dad had taken me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye and said, “I’m sorry, Skyebird. But what’s done is done.”
The words echoed in my memory as I watched my parents—who hadn’t seen each other for at least a year now—sit side by side, scrutinizing the rest of the security footage.
What’s done is done.
* * *
When the footage showed a timestamp of 4:00—the end of my shift—the blue Kia reappeared at the far edge of the parking lot.
Then at 4:09, as I walked into frame after gathering my things, the car pulled through the open space and into the long, narrow strip mall.
I studied my parent’s faces, waiting for them to connect the dots.
But a gray Honda pulled out at the same time. Just as a blue Ford sailed past. I knew I wouldn’t have noticed the Kia either except for the fact that I was looking for him.
A sinking sense of panic took me like a riptide as I saw myself walk toward the other edge of the video frame. Toward the second entrance from the parking lot to the strip mall. The blue Kia wasn’t visible anymore. He’d pulled out of the other parking lot entrance.
I was about to walk out of the camera view.
Which meant that they wouldn’t see me get into his car or even talk to him. I’d gotten into the Kia when I passed the FroYo, at least twenty yards away. I remembered wondering if that’s where he’d been.
But right before I stepped out of frame in the security footage, my hand went up.
