Page 55 of Two Weeks
Alma was putting the dishes in the dishwasher. “When have you ridden with her?” She stopped and looked straight at Vienna. Not accusing their daughter, but curious.
“When she invited me over for dinner the night of rehearsal. Remember? You met her. And when we all went to get dance shoes together after school. A few weeks ago.” Vienna put herself between the two of them, an arm around each of their necks. “You can trust me, Parents. I wouldn’t do anything crazy. This is ice cream on a Sunday night.” She giggled. “Pretty normal, don’t you think?”
Teenage logic, but still his little girl was right. Theo took a deep breath and kissed Vienna’s cheek. “Fine. You can go.” He faced her, his hands on her shoulders. “But wear your seat belt. And if she does anything dangerous, tell her. You have to say something.” Theo shot a look to his wife. “Is that okay? If she goes?”
Alma uttered a single laugh, the silliness from earlier back again. “I was wondering if anyone was going to ask my opinion.” She pulled Vienna close, in a side hug. Then she did the same to Theo. A family huddle, they called it. Something they did all the time. She leaned her head against their daughter’s. “Ditto. To everything your daddy said.”
Vienna kissed Alma’s cheek and then his. “Yes!” She jumped a few times and then rushed for her cell phone on the kitchen counter. “I’ll let them know. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
The three of them finished the dishes together, something else Theo liked to do. Truth was, he would’ve enjoyed having a full house of kids. Six or seven. That’s what he and Alma had talked about after getting married. But God had given them all they would ever need when He gave them Vienna. Nights like this were proof.
A few minutes later a car pulled into their driveway. Theo and Alma were in the kitchen still, making coffee. They were talking about a student who’d won a national poetry contest at Alma’s school when Vienna breezed in, her purse over her shoulder.
She went to Theo and hugged him. “I’ll get you a scoop of mint chocolate chip!”
Theo smiled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
“Nothing for me.” Alma pulled their daughter close and kissed the top of her head. “See you soon.”
“Okay.” She hurried toward the front door. Halfway there she stopped and looked over her shoulder at them. The picture of happy. “Love you!”
“Love you.” They responded to her at the same time.
And then in a blur she was gone. From where he was standing, Theo could see out the window, so he watched the car back down the driveway and pull away. He still didn’t feel good about her going out. But the weather was clear and his daughter was right about her friends. They were good girls. Everything would be fine. He sighed and turned to his wife.
Alma took two mugs from the cupboard and set them on the counter. The coffee wasn’t quite ready, so she faced him. Nostalgia filled her expression. “She’s got a point, you know.”
“About what?” Theo leaned against the kitchen island and admired his wife. Vienna was the mirror image of her. “The mint chip ice cream?”
“I love your sense of humor, Theo. I always have.” Her soft laugh filled the space. “Not about the ice cream. About being grown up. I don’t know where the time’s gone.”
Theo felt the same way. He considered telling Alma about his uneasy feeling. But what was the point? Vienna was gone and in half an hour she’d be back. He’d have his mint chip ice cream and they’d be laughing and listening to something funny that happened on the trip.
“God is good, Theo.” The coffee had finished brewing so Alma poured two cups and handed one to him. “What did we ever do to deserve a daughter like her?”
“I was thinking that earlier.” He shook his head. “She’s one in a million.” The warmth of the coffee felt good against his hands. He breathed in the smell of it. “She might be onto something with her foster care idea. At least until she goes to college.” He raised one eyebrow. “Since it matters to her so much.”
Alma took the cream from the fridge and poured some in her cup. “It’s a lot to think about.” She handed the container to him. “I like my job.”
“I know.” He added cream to his mug, too, and put it back in the fridge. “Just something to think about.”
“Which reminds me, the principal asked me to write a grant the other day. For new playground equipment.” She set her coffee down. “I’ll get my laptop. I want you to read it.”
“I’m sure it’s brilliant.” He smiled as she left the room. Their marriage was as real and beautiful and fulfilling as it had been when they said their vows twenty-five years ago. Alma was a go-getter, as full of faith and life and possibility as Vienna.
When she returned they sat down at the table and he read her work. Just like he thought, it was perfect. “You should be an author.” He shook his head and glanced over the grant again. “This makesmewant to buy you the equipment. I practically cried reading it.”
Alma laughed. “I’m becoming the school grant writer.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’m working on another one.” She clicked her computer keyboard a few times and a second document filled the screen. “This one’s for the school library. We haven’t had new books in twelve years.”
He was halfway through reading it when he caught the time on the screen: 8:53. The number seemed to jump out at him. His heart skipped a beat and he looked at Alma. “Why isn’t she back yet?”
Fear gripped her face even before he finished his question. “I should’ve asked for the girls’ numbers. Jessie and Sarah Jane.”
“They probably ran into friends at Foster’s.” Theo’s voice was trembling. “Or they got caught in a conversation about dance.” Anything to convince himself this was normal. That she would take twice as long as she had told them and not call to say she was running late.
But the truth was something different, and they both knew it. Vienna would never be late without calling or texting.
Theo stood and walked fast to the counter. “Where’s my phone? I can never find it.”
