Lovely Wild Read online

  But there in the grass just in front of her, just the size of what might’ve been two human feet, is a trampled-down spot of grass just now beginning to spring back up. Settled into it are two things. One, a library book. And two, Kendra’s cell phone.

  FORTY-THREE

  RYAN DIDN’T WANT to listen to his mother’s lectures about the choices he’s made as an adult. He understood why she had such bitterness toward his dad, even though she’d been the one to leave him and not the other way around. Even now she couldn’t talk about Ryan’s dad without curling her lip. So much for not speaking ill of the dead. On the other hand, it was as though she couldn’t stop talking about him, either.

  She was good with the kids, though. No matter what she thought about her son’s father or her daughter-in-law, Jean Calder loved her grandkids. She’d taken them shopping, leaving Ryan at home to try and get through to Mari, who still wasn’t answering the phone. He’d have been more worried, except he knew she sometimes turned the ringer off on her phone and forgot about it. And that the cell service in the Pine Grove house was terrible.

  It was possible she was ignoring him on purpose. Ryan thumbed the phone to end the call, then slipped it into his pocket. He rubbed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so freaking tired.

  He put in a call to his lawyer, who depressingly went from assuring Ryan that everything was going to work out, to cautiously suggesting he might want to consider making sure his assets were listed in his wife’s name. That he might want to think about a different line of work.

  That was that, then. He was well and thoroughly screwed. And he’d done it to himself—that was the worst of it. He’d been stupid and not only lost his job, but maybe his wife, too.

  Mari had made him leave the files and folders, but Ryan had brought the computer containing his notes and outlines for the chapters he’d begun to draft. He opened the laptop, brought up the file he’d simply titled Book. In school he’d never much liked English classes. He couldn’t have said what a gerund was, or how to diagram a sentence. But writing this book, for the first time Ryan had felt like he was managing to do something interesting with what he’d learned in school, instead of simply chasing after his father’s legacy.

  He scanned the lines of text and made some changes. Took some notes. He called Mari, and again she didn’t answer. He didn’t leave a voice mail this time. He’d have tried the house phone, but realized they’d never used the landline and he wasn’t even sure if one existed or what the number was. So if she’d turned off the ringer on her cell and forgotten to check it, he was pretty much out of touch with her. A thin irritation corkscrewed through him. Why’d she have to be so damned irresponsible? What if this was an emergency?

  Except he knew that was unfair. Mari might be a lot of things, but not irresponsible. She didn’t take care of the household finances, but she did damn near everything else from the grocery shopping to cleaning to keeping track of everything the kids needed. Ryan couldn’t have said where the school absence excuse slips were, or what size shoes Ethan wore or the name of Kendra’s English teacher. He knew Mari could answer all those questions without a second’s hesitation. She kept the gears of Ryan’s life moving smoothly, without snagging.

  What was he going to do without her?

  FORTY-FOUR

  “SURELY YOUR MOTHER wouldn’t approve of that shirt.” Grandma’s lip curled as she held it up.

  Kendra hadn’t really been thinking of buying the black, fitted T-shirt with the picture of a zombified Bettie Page and the neon green lettering that said “F*@% you, I found Jesus” on it, but as soon as Grandma took it from her hands and hung it back on the rack it became the only shirt she wanted. She took another off the rack and held it up. “She wouldn’t care.”

  That was probably true. If Kendra came home with that shirt, her mom would probably look it over, shake her head and simply tell her that she couldn’t wear it to school or out in public. Mom wouldn’t forbid Kendra from having it, she’d just make sure Kendra understood the consequences of wearing it.

  Grandma frowned. “Even your mother wouldn’t allow you to wear a shirt like that, Kendra Jean.”

  Kendra hated the way Grandma said “your mother” only a little more than she hated the way she used her full name. She didn’t put the shirt back. She hung it over her arm as she moved to the next rack of clothes.

  “You’re not buying that shirt.”

  She looked at her grandmother. Ethan had ducked away to look at a glass case full of buttons and bumper stickers, so it was just Kendra and Grandma facing off over a rack of T-shirts with dirty slogans. Kendra’s heart pounded, but she gave her grandma a blank look.

  “Sure I am. I have my own money.”

  “It’s not a question of money,” Grandma said. “You can’t buy that shirt, it’s filthy. And disrespectful.”

  “Maybe that’s why I like it,” Kendra said.

  For a moment she thought Grandma was going to burst into a screaming hissy fit right there in the store, but she just shook her head. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as though she had a very bad headache. When she opened her eyes, she bored right into Kendra’s skull with a glare.

  “Your father will never approve of it. I’m sure about that.”

  Kendra frowned. That was true. Her dad wouldn’t like the shirt at all. And with a price tag of twenty-nine-ninety-five, it was kind of an expensive way to throw a tantrum. “He barely pays attention to anything I wear.”

  “Well, he should.”

  “Grandma, can I get this?” Ethan held up a package of gummy candy that looked like a hamburger complete with lettuce, tomato and onion, and fries on the side. “It’s gum.”

  “Sweetie, let Grandma buy you some better gum than that. Come on, this store is nothing but junk.” Grandma turned to go as Ethan put on a sad face and prepared to put the gum back.

  “I’ll buy it for you,” Kendra said.

  “Kendra.” Grandma had a warning tone in her voice.

  Kendra ignored it. “Mom doesn’t care if we have gum. C’mon, monkeybrat. Let’s pay for this stuff.”

  Behind her, Grandma let out a long, low sigh. Kendra pulled out two twenty-dollar bills from her wallet, all the money she’d saved up from her allowances since before they went to Pine Grove. There’d been no allowance since then, and she’d felt bad asking for it, not that there’d been anything to spend it on, anyway. Now the brand-new bills felt stiff in her fingers. She put it on the counter next to the shirt she didn’t really want and the gum her brother really didn’t need.

  Back out in the mall, the monkeybrat chattered nonstop to Grandma while Kendra held back, the bag holding her purchases clutched so tight her fingers cramped. Grandma was ignoring her, which was cool with Kendra, whose rebellious nature had been totally tapped out. Was the shirt worth it? Probably not, but she’d been unable to stop herself from buying it, anyway. Now it made the bag so super heavy she wanted to dump it in the nearest trashcan.

  No, what she wanted was her mom.

  Kendra let Grandma and Ethan walk ahead of her as she pulled out the stupid flip phone her dad had given her to replace the one she’d lost, and tapped in a text to her mom.

  I want to come home.

  Her phone buzzed a moment later. She grabbed at it, but saw it was only a message from Logan. Any other time this would’ve made her squee, but now she just tucked it back in her pocket without answering.

  FORTY-FIVE

  THERE WAS A book with pretty pictures and many words. Mari could sound out a few of them if she ran her finger along the black letters on the white pages. She liked the pictures better, though. Colorful ink drawings of mermaids, a sea-witch. Puss in Boots. Mari knew the fairy-tale stories because the forest prince had read them to her, over and over again. The forest prince, like the one in the stories. He looked like the boy in the picture. Golden hair. Golden skin. The happy prince, the one made of gold.

  The forest prince brought he