shit funny about how Peaches is whoring herself out and smoking all of the crack she can find, Cheyenne said in her head as her father and Kelsi broke up their little pow-wow.
Kelsi had never joked with Cheyenne about Peaches. Mostly she avoided speaking about Peaches at all. Cheyenne knew Kelsi hated her mother with a passion. Cheyenne shook off any ill thoughts she’d had.
“Where’s Mommy?” Cheyenne asked her father and looked around. She wanted her tone to show that she didn’t appreciate all of her father and Kelsi’s laughing and reminiscing without her mother there. Especially since Cheyenne hadn’t gotten a chance to have any alone time with her father yet herself. She also thought reminiscing, laughing, and sharing light moments should be for her mother to be doing on her husband’s first full day home from a twelve-year bid.
“That crazy lady went to work. Can you believe her?” Kelsi answered Cheyenne’s question right away.
A flash of heat spread through Cheyenne’s body. She shot Kelsi a look. Kelsi acted like she hadn’t seen Cheyenne’s dirty look.
“Hmph, her husband just came home after all this time, and she agreed to work someone’s shift for them instead of staying home. Not me. I would be locked in a room somewhere, laid up with my man for days. Even my kids wouldn’t be able to get in or interrupt our flow,” Kelsi continued, trying to sound like she was joking.
Cheyenne thought she heard a hint of disgust underlying some of Kelsi’s words when she spoke about her mother leaving to go to work. Cheyenne tilted her head to the side, squinted a little bit, and gave Kelsi the side eye. She didn’t like anyone talking about her mother. Kelsi of all people knew that about her.
“Um, she is not crazy. She has a job. Which is more than I can say about a lot of people. Plus, I’m sure she had a good reason to go in today. I guess she figured he’s home now and he ain’t going nowhere with nobody else, so why not make the money? It’s probably just for a few hours anyway,” Cheyenne grumbled defensively.
Cheyenne’s message to them both was clear. Kelsi got quiet. Her father had a big, dumb grin on his face.
Cheyenne grabbed a breakfast shake out of the refrigerator and started back toward her room.
“How about we go down to the rides today?” her father yelled out as she walked away. She didn’t know if he was trying to make light of the tension-filled exchange that had taken place or if he was serious. She paused for a few minutes.
He can’t be serious. How old does he think I am? Cheyenne thought and rolled her eyes without letting him see.
Kelsi hadn’t said a word. Cheyenne figured Kelsi was thinking the same thing she was thinking: He has clearly been gone too damn long.
“Um, yeah. You’ve been gone way too long. The rides are no place to go nowadays. Half of them are gone or broken down. Nobody dares eat at that Nathan’s anymore. Trust me, nothing around here, including the rides, is like it was in 1996,” Cheyenne lectured, trying to keep the obvious disappointment out of her voice. She immediately felt sorry for her father. The transition home wasn’t going to be easy if he continued to live in the past.
* * *
“Did you still love her?” Cheyenne asked her father after snapping out of her memory of the past.
Her father looked at her strangely and jumped to his feet. “I do love her. I will always love her,” he said emphatically. “You don’t ever have to ask me a question like that again,” he said, storming out of the kitchen, leaving Cheyenne alone.
Chapter 5
Brice
Brice didn’t know what else to say to his mother. Once again, just like before, her nerves were harried over his sister. Brice pinched the bridge of his nose and wished he had an entire bottle of headache pills to choke down. He had watched his mother go through so much over the years. She’d been a victim of domestic violence, she’d been discriminated against in the workplace, and she’d lived through close calls with almost losing both of her children to the streets. Brice wished he could save her from any more heartache.
He stood in front of his mother, helpless and speechless. He’d expected her to call him once she found out Ciara’s plan to run off to Vietnam with no friends or family there and no knowledge of any other part of the world but Brooklyn, New York. Brice knew his mother would be devastated, and he was right.
“I don’t know where I went wrong,” his mother said, wrapping her arms around her herself tightly. She moved aimlessly on her feet. “She will kill me of a heart attack, you know. That must be what she’s trying to do. But why? What have I done? What haven’t I done? I’ve dedicated my whole life to you both. What did I do wrong?” she said, flopping down onto her couch, too exhausted to keep moving.
“C’mon, Ma. You know you’ve done your best. Of course it wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do,” Brice said, walking over to his mother. “And no one is going to die of anything, heart attack included,” he said in his stern way of comforting her.
Brice was frustrated with everything his sister was doing, but he couldn’t show it. Once again, Ciara had them living under stress, day and night. It hadn’t taken that long to end up back here. Brice and his mother had been in this place before—scared, unsure, and lost for a solution when it came to her.
Brice sat down next to his mother and put his arm around her shoulders. He wanted her to know they were a united front, in it together.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Silence wasn’t Brice’s best friend when he was under any kind of stress. And, just like all of the other intrusive thoughts he struggled to get rid of, Brice was triggered. He closed his eyes and tried to shake it off, but again, his memory betrayed him.
* * *
Brice paced in circles on the same floor in his mother’s house. Beads of sweat lined up on his hairline like ready soldiers.
“Sit down for a minute,” his mother said as she fanned herself. Brice made her nervous. On top of her sixteen-year-old daughter being missing, his mother didn’t need his attitude and tension as another stressor.
“Why didn’t you call me on Friday? I’m a cop for goodness sake. You know how it looks for me to report my sister missing after she’s been gone three days?” Brice reprimanded her.
He immediately regretted his tone. Brice hadn’t meant to be so hard on his mother, but he’d gotten emotional because she’d waited so long when Ciara might’ve been in danger.
His mother began crying.
Brice shook his head and breathed out loudly. “Ma, I didn’t mean it. I’m just upset and nervous,” he apologized and put his arm around her shoulders.
When his mother called, Brice had been buried in evidence and paperwork regarding his case. The dead girl, Arianna Coleman, already had him on edge. Brice immediately sent three squad cars out to scour the streets of Brooklyn, looking for his little sister. His commanding officer had asked him to stay behind with his mother. They said Brice was too emotionally wired to be actively involved in the search for his own sister.
At that time, it was not like Ciara to run away. She was sixteen years old and had never stayed out overnight without permission to be at a friend’s house. And even that was rare.
Although he was looking for his own sister, Brice wasn’t able to stop thinking about what the mother of the victim in his case had said. Her daughter was a good student and wouldn’t have run away. But the mother had also noticed changes in her daughter’s behavior—coming home late from school, angry all the time—changes that were eerily similar to his sister’s. The entire situation made Brice’s stomach muscles clench. He wiped his hands down his face and held his head in his hands, trying to be patient while waiting for the search results.
Brice felt torn up inside, like he’d failed his sister and his mother. Things like this weren’t supposed