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“Then it must have come as a surprise to learn you had an inheritance.”
“Oh, my goodness, yes! I had no idea she had money in the bank. Every month when I’d help her write out her checks to pay the bills, there barely seemed enough for her to get by. She would say she had a little bit put away for a rainy day—which I thought meant thousands, not hundreds of thousands.”
“Hundreds of thousands?” Frannie’s eyes widened.
“You can imagine my shock. I’ve lived payday to payday my entire life.”
“Most of us do,” she said soberly.
“You shouldn’t have to.”
Frannie really didn’t want to be having this conversation with her ex-mother-in-law because she knew where it was leading. And she didn’t want to talk about her ex-husband.
Arlene, however, would not be swayed. “I want to give some of this money to you and the kids…you know, to try to make up for what Dennis hasn’t done.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Frannie began, only to have the other woman cut her short.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. What good is inheriting money if you can’t share it with the ones you love?”
It was a very generous gesture, yet Frannie couldn’t let her do it. She knew that Arlene had worked hard all her life and had very little to show for it. Forever bailing Dennis out of trouble, she’d never hesitated to spend her money to help her son. Now she wanted to give away what could be her retirement nest egg because of obligations he’d failed to meet.
“If you want to put a little money aside for college for the kids, that’s fine, but you don’t need to help us out, Arlene. We’re doing all right.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. Frannie was tired of there never being enough money, but she also knew that until she no longer had the expense of day care, she’d continue to scramble for money.
Arlene’s face fell. “You don’t want my help?”
“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your future because of Dennis’s irresponsible behavior. That money should be used for your retirement, not for raising your grandchildren.” Frannie didn’t like the awkwardness that the subject of money had introduced into their conversation. “Look, I think it’s best that we don’t talk about Dennis.”
“No, you’re probably right,” Arlene agreed. “It’s how we’ve managed to stay friends, isn’t it? By not talking about him?”
Frannie knew there was no need for her to answer.
“I just have one question,” Arlene said.
Reluctantly, Frannie asked, “About Dennis?”
She nodded. “Do you think there’s any chance that Alex’s posters might succeed in finding him?”
Frannie shook her head. “We’ve hired private investigators who haven’t been able to come up with any leads.”
“That’s true.”
“And if Dennis was going to contact anyone, it would be you.”
“I don’t think so, not after I threatened to turn him in to the authorities.” Arlene sighed. “I’m not proud to call him my son, Frannie. You ought to know that. And it hurts me to see Alex struggling with all of this. If there was some way I could make that son of mine behave like a man, I would have done it by now.”
Frannie felt a rush of sympathy for the older woman. She could imagine how painful it would be to be estranged from one of her children. “I don’t think we should be talking about this, Arlene.”
She nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Frannie.”
“It’s all right. He’s still your son, Arlene, no matter what happens.”
“And the father of Alex, Emma and Luke,” her ex-mother-in-law added.
As much as Frannie wanted to argue that Dennis had given up the right to be a father, she knew it would be wise to say nothing. If Arlene planned to stay for part of the summer, Frannie needed to keep a tight rein on her feelings about Dennis.
And she would. For her children’s sake.
“IT’S WORKING OUT BETTER than I thought it would,” Alex told Josh the following Monday on their way to school. “Now that my gramma’s staying with us, I won’t have to go to day care next week when school’s out. And you know what that means.”
“You’ll be home to answer the phone when someone calls with information about your dad,” Josh supplied. “Aren’t you worried your mom’s gonna get mad when she finds out you left your phone number on the flyers?”
“Only on half of them. The ones I put up around here all have my aunt’s office number on them.” He kicked a rock in his path and it went rolling across the street.
“You think your aunt will tell you if someone calls about your dad?”
“I’m not sure. She says it’s better for society if deadbeats like him drop out…at least, that’s what I heard her tell my mom one night when they didn’t know I was listening.”
“Hey, I heard Jamie Richards is going camping in the Boundary Waters as soon as school’s out. You should have him put some posters up there.”
“Good idea. And Angela Martin is going to the Wisconsin Dells.”
“You asked her?” Josh wrinkled his nose in disgust. “She’s a dork.”
“It doesn’t matter. She said she’d take my posters with her.”
“How many out-of-town ones does that make?”
“Seventeen. Before summer’s over, my posters will be all over the country.”
“Cool. I bet you’re going to find him.”
“Maybe” was all Alex said, remembering all the times he’d heard his mom and his aunt discuss his father. He knew it wasn’t easy finding a deadbeat.
TRUE TO HER WORD, Arlene did her best not to mention her son’s name during her stay. Alex, however, asked every day if his auntie Lois had called with any information. And each day Frannie would give him the same response. No, not yet.
As days turned into weeks and there were still no leads as to Dennis’s whereabouts, Frannie expected Alex to become discouraged. He didn’t. He just kept sending the posters with his friends as they left on vacation.
Frannie viewed Arlene’s presence as a mixed blessing. It was wonderful to see how warm and loving she was with her grandchildren, but it also made Frannie realize how much easier her life would be with another person sharing the responsibilities of child rearing. Having another adult in the house meant Frannie actually had some time to herself, and she discovered she liked it.
When she expressed this sentiment to her sister as they lunched at an outdoor café, Lois said, “You sure don’t sound like the same woman who only a few weeks ago was bemoaning the fact that her ex’s mother would be a houseguest for the summer.”
Frannie took a sip of her iced tea. “I did have my apprehensions at first, but it’s worked out remarkably well. I’m actually going to hate to see her go, even if she does occasionally get on my nerves.”
“When does she leave?”
“Next week. She’s going out to California for her high school reunion, where she’s meeting up with some friends. Then they’re all going on a road trip.”
“A road trip?”
Frannie nodded. “Apparently they want to see the western part of the United States, go to some of the national parks, stop in and see friends along the way. You know Arlene—she has friends all over the country. I suppose it’ll be months before we hear from her again.”
“Do you think she’d ever consider moving here?” Lois asked as she stuck her fork into her salad.
Frannie shook her head. “I don’t know. She has wanderlust. It’s why she moves so often—and why she didn’t mind life in the military.”
“She must have family.”
Frannie reached for her napkin. “A couple of older sisters and some cousins.”
“What about the Harper side?”
She shook her head. “Never talks about them. Dennis never did, either.”
“There’s probably a good reason why they didn’t.”
Frannie shrugged. “All I know is that it’s been good for the kids to have a grandmother around. They’re going to miss Arlene.”
“By the end of the year Mom will be back,” Lois remarked.
“We hope.”
Lois frowned. “Why wouldn’t she be back? Richard’s contract was only to work overseas one year.”
“That’s true, but the last time I talked to Mom, she told me Richard was doing such a terrific job that the company was thinking about extending their stay.”
“Mom’s not going to like that.”
“I’m not so sure. Obviously it’s a great opportunity for them. I mean, what Minnesotan wouldn’t want two years working in a warm climate with beautiful sand beaches?”
“But she misses her grandkids.” Lois took one last sip of her iced tea, then reached for the check. “I’d better get back to the office. Oh, one other thing I should mention. We did get a call in response to one of Alex’s posters.”
Frannie’s heart skipped a beat. “And?”
“It wasn’t legit. Some kid thinking it was funny to place the call.”
Frannie breathed a relieved sigh. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. Caller ID told us it was a call placed in South Minneapolis, not Los Angeles, which is where the kid said he was. Technology can be such a timesaver, can’t it?”
ARLENE’S DEPARTURE was a solemn occasion at the Harper house. Frannie, Alex, Emma and Luke all waved at her as she pulled out of the driveway in her shiny new minivan. Frannie understood the reason for her children’s tears. Even she had to choke back sadness as she said goodbye.
Seeing their faces as Arlene’s van disappeared from sight, Frannie was grateful that there was a summer arts festival going on in a nearby park. It would give them something to take their minds off their grandmother’s absence. As well as arts and crafts, there were street vendors and musical entertainment with a small outdoor stage production.
While she was putting together a picnic lunch for them to take along, the phone rang. She heard Alex call out that he’d answer it. A few minutes later, he came bursting into the kitchen, his eyes wide. In his fist was a slip of paper.
“I got it!”
“Got what?” Frannie asked, as he stood wiggling before her.
“I got the name of the place Dad is!” Frannie was stunned. After six weeks of getting no responses to Alex’s posters, she’d assumed that nothing would come of his efforts.
“Was that Auntie Lois?” she asked weakly.
He shook his head. “Uh-uh. It was some lady. She gave me her name but I didn’t write it down. I think it was Margaret or something with an M…” He trailed off, his face showing his bewilderment.
Frannie took the piece of paper from his hands. On it Alex had printed, “Gran Moray. North Shore. Fishing. Nice, helpful.”
When she didn’t say anything, he added, “It’s where Dad is…in Gran Moray.”
Gran Moray had to be Alex’s spelling of Grand Marais, the small Minnesota town located on the North Shore of Lake Superior. Frannie’s heart hammered relentlessly in her chest.
“The lady said she saw someone who looks just like Dad when they were fishing in one of the streams,” Alex continued. “They talked to him and everything.”
It couldn’t be, Frannie told herself, taking several calming breaths. “Your father doesn’t like to fish,” she told him. “And you heard your grandmother say that she doesn’t think he’s living nearby. It’s not him,” she said with a confidence she wasn’t feeling.
“How do you know? This lady said he looked just like the guy on the poster. It could be him, Mom. It could be.” There was a plea in her son’s voice that tore at Frannie’s heart.
“I’m going to call Lois and see what she thinks.” Frannie started to walk out of the room, but Alex stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Auntie Lois doesn’t know about this.”
Frannie frowned. “What do you mean she doesn’t know? She must have given that woman our number…”
Guilt made his eyes dart back and forth nervously.
“Alex, you didn’t put up the posters with our phone number on it, did you?”
She could see by the look on his face, that was exactly what he’d done.
“Alex!”
“I wanted to be the one to get the calls, not Auntie Lois. He’s my father,” he said on a note of frustration.
Frannie pushed an errant curl away from her forehead. “Oh, good grief! Our phone number’s out there for all the world to see?”
“You don’t need to get upset. No one’s even called except for this one lady. And she was really nice, Mom.”
Again, pain knifed through Frannie’s heart. She could see how much Alex wanted this strange woman to be the connection to his father. She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to find the words to tell her son that the man this woman had seen couldn’t possibly be Dennis.
“It can’t be him, Alex,” she began.
“Why not?” he demanded.
Because I don’t want it to be. She pushed aside that thought and said, “I told you. Your father doesn’t know how to fish.”
“Maybe he learned.”
“He hates cold weather. Why would he live in northern Minnesota?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but we need to go find out. Will you take me?”
Frannie stifled a groan. “I wish you’d let me talk to the woman who called and gave you this information.”
“She said she lives in Minneapolis.”
“You should have written down her phone number.”
“You can call her. All you have to do is press star sixty-nine, and you can get it.”
Frannie realized he was right. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Because she’d been too upset over the fact that there was even the tiniest of possibilities that the man spotted along the North Shore might be her ex-husband.
The woman who had phoned Alex was named Margaret, just as he’d said. She was also very nice and helpful, as he’d written on the slip of paper. Only, Frannie soon discovered that Alex hadn’t written those adjectives about the woman who’d phoned. They were the words Margaret had used to describe the man she’d seen at the North Shore.
As well as repeating what Alex had already told Frannie, the woman told her that this man didn’t seem like the type to abandon his kids. By the time the phone call ended, she had told Frannie enough about the man’s personality to convince her it couldn’t have been Dennis.
Frannie knew her ex-husband would have no patience for fishing or for helping a couple of senior citizens change a flat tire on their car—which is what the man had done for Margaret and her husband.
“Are we going to go there?” Alex asked as soon as she’d hung up the phone.
Frannie wanted to again say, “It’s not him,” but she stifled the words. “I’m going to call Lois and see what she thinks.”
Alex groaned. “Do you have to?”
“Yes.” Frannie dialed her sister’s number. As soon as she heard the voice-mail recording, she remembered that her sister was out of town for the weekend. “I forgot. She’s in Chicago and won’t be home until Tuesday.”
“What does that mean? That we have to wait for her to get back before we can do anything?” he asked, obviously hoping that the answer to his question wasn’t yes.
“There’s no point in driving all the way to the North Shore without first investigating whether the possibility exists that it is your father,” Frannie answered patiently. “If—and I say if—there’s a chance it is your father, then it’s up to the authorities to investigate, not us.”
“You mean we’re not going to go?”
Frannie tried not to let the devastation on his face tug on her emotions. It wasn’t easy.
“I’m sorry, but that’s my final word on the subject. We wait until we talk to Auntie Lois before we do anything,” she said firmly.
“Do what?” Emma asked as she entered the kitchen, backpack slung over her shoulder.
“It’s none of your business,” Alex said, stomping out of the room.
“What’s wrong with him? Aren’t we going to the arts festival?” Emma asked.
“Yes, we’re going. Just give me a few minutes,” Frannie replied. “Watch Luke for me, will you?”
Frannie found Alex in his room, lying on his stomach on his bed, his elbows supporting him as he played a video game.
“I know you’re disappointed, Alex, but you don’t need to take it out on Emma.” Her words were met with silence. “Get your stuff together and we’ll go to the arts festival at the park.”
“I don’t want to go,” he grumbled.
Frannie put her hands on her hips. “You wanted to earlier this morning.”
“I changed my mind.”
Frannie could see the stubborn set to his shoulders. If there was one thing she knew about Alex, it was that when he made up his mind about something, he didn’t change it. “Alex, I can’t leave you home alone.”
He sat up then and said, “I’m ten, not two. I’ll keep the door locked and won’t let anybody in. Satisfied?”
She wasn’t. She knew that some parents did leave their kids home alone for short periods of time, but she wasn’t one of them. She didn’t doubt that Alex would be fine on his own for a couple of hours, yet she wasn’t ready to set a precedent. If she left him today, then he’d want to stay home alone the next time she had to go somewhere that was of no interest to him.
“Come on, Mom. I’m almost eleven,” he pleaded. “I’m responsible. Didn’t I prove that to you that time you had the flu and I had to take care of Luke because you couldn’t get out of bed?”
“But I was still in the house.”
“You couldn’t even lift your head off the pillow,” he reminded her. “I did a good job taking care of everything. Even you said so. Please, let me try it just once,” he pleaded. “I won’t answer the door, and if the phone rings I won’t say you’re not here. I’ll say you can’t come to the phone, like I’m supposed to do.”
Frannie could feel her resolve weakening. She knew Alex wouldn’t enjoy the arts festival as much as Emma and Luke would. And then there was that look of devastation on his face when she’d told him they weren’t going to go looking for his father. It tugged at her heart in a way that made her fall back on emotion rather than logic.
“Please, Mom?” he begged. “Don’t make me go with you.”
The park was just at the end of the block, and if Alex did have a problem he could call on any one of the neighbors. Finally Frannie caved in. “All right, you can stay home.”
It was a decision that left her feeling uneasy, however, as she wandered later through the various exhibits. It was also the reason why, despite Luke and Emma’s groans of protest, she packed up their things as soon as they’d finished lunch.
A feeling of relief washed over her as she returned home and saw that the house looked exactly as it had when they’d left. The front door was still shut, the drapes closed, the yard empty of kids. Using her key, she let herself in and called out, “Alex, we’re home.”
When there was no answer, she repeated the call. Then Emma handed her a piece of paper. “I found this on the kitchen table.”
Frannie read the note written in her son’s handwriting: “Mom, I’m going to look for Dad. I’m taking the bus. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Alex.”
CHAPTER THREE
ALEX WAS ON A BUS headed for the North Shore!
“Do you think he really found Dad?” Emma’s voice was a pin bursting the bubble of panic that held Frannie motionless.
“No.” She reached for the phone and dialed 911. When she was told her son would be considered a runaway and that a police officer would be sent to her home to ask her more questions, she told the dispatcher, “No, don’t do that. I’ll find him myself.”
“Are you mad at the police?” Emma asked, as Frannie slammed the receiver down.
“No.”
“You look like you’re mad.”
“I’m not. I’m worried.
She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. She couldn’t think. She had to think. She took several more calming breaths, then grabbed the phone book and searched for the number to the bus depot.
She vented her frustration at the faceless person on the other end of the line. “I don’t understand how you could let a ten-year-old on the bus without an adult.”
Frannie didn’t like the answer she received. Alex hadn’t been alone. A woman had purchased the ticket for him, saying he was going to visit his father in Grand Marais and would be met at the bus stop there.
What woman would buy a bus ticket for a ten-year-old boy? Frannie asked herself, as panic again bubbled up in her throat. She closed her eyes momentarily and tried not to think the worst. Alex easily could have cried a bucket of tears and concocted a story that would have had any compassionate woman offering to buy him a ticket.
Frannie couldn’t waste time wondering about what had already happened. Her son was on a bus headed for a small town in search of his father. She needed to be calm and she needed to be rational.
She turned to Emma and said, “We need to go find Alex, so I want you to gather a few things for Luke to play with in the car…some books, his blanky,” she said as she mentally made a list of what she needed to bring along.
With her usual systematic approach, she loaded the car. Bottled water, juice boxes, munchies for the kids, change of clothes for Luke in case he had an accident. Luke was toilet trained most of the time, but whenever she least expected it, an accident occurred.
Frannie couldn’t believe how long it took to pack up two kids and get on the road. By the time her station wagon pulled out of the drive, it was midafternoon, which meant they would be lucky to reach the North Shore before evening.
Once they found Alex, they’d have to eat dinner. And by the time they made the journey home again, they’d be fortunate to get to bed by midnight. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying not to think about anything but staying calm and finding Alex.
Never had the drive from Minneapolis to Duluth seemed so long. Although Emma read stories and kept Luke entertained for most of the journey, three hours was a long time for any child to spend in the car. Even Emma found it difficult to be still and asked if they could take a break.
“There’s a park down there. Can we go down by the water?” she asked as their journey took them past the harbor.
“You know we can’t stop.”
“But we’ve been in the car forever. And it looks like it’s really fun.” She gazed longingly out the window toward Canal Park.
“I’ll bring you and your brothers back for a visit some other time. Right now we need to get to Grand Marais.”
“Oh, look! That bridge is going up so the boat can get through.” She sighed. “Can’t we stop for just a few minutes?”
Frannie ignored her and continued following the highway along the shoreline of Lake Superior. It being the height of tourist season, traffic moved slowly as motor homes and pickup trucks pulling trailers leisurely made their way to recreational parks.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost six. The bus should have arrived in Grand Marais by now. She wondered where Alex was and what he was doing.
Frannie’s heart rate increased. What if she couldn’t find him? What if Dennis Harper was in the small resort town? What if Alex had found him and he—She pushed such thoughts from her mind. She needed to keep a clear head if she was going to find Alex. She couldn’t allow what-if’s to distract her.
Finally she saw the green road sign: Grand Marais. Frannie’s adrenaline kicked into a higher gear. As she drove into the business district, she kept one eye on the road, the other on the sidewalks in search of her son.
It only took a few minutes to locate the bus stop. When she saw no sign of Alex, she parked her car, then grabbed Luke by the hand and ordered Emma to stick close by.
“I’m looking for my son. He’s ten, dark hair, a couple of inches shorter than I am, wearing a pair of jeans and a blue shirt,” she would say to each of the shopkeepers she met. Each gave her the same answer. No one had seen him.
“When are we going to eat? I’m hungry,” Emma asked as they approached a diner. The aroma of beef grilling wafted on the air, and Luke echoed his sister. “I want to eat, Mommy.”
Frannie pulled open the door to the diner and motioned for Emma to step inside. Her daughter hadn’t taken but a couple of steps when she said, “He’s in here!”
Relief washed over Frannie at the sight of her son sitting on a stool at the lunch counter. In front of him was a half-eaten hamburger and a plate of French fries, and he held a fountain glass in his hand. Seeing his mother, his eyes widened. He slammed the glass down on the counter.