Page 83 of Forest Proximity
“Can you call her friends?” Ruth makes a bubble-cheeked face for her daughter, keeping her voice light. “Maybe they share locations.”
That’s a good idea. The only phone number I have is Ike’s, though. This isn’t going to look good, but it’s happening.
He answers quickly. “Hey, Adam.”
“Hi, Ike.” I shuffle my phone to my other ear, pacing to the window that overlooks the long road leading to my cabin. A flash of lightning tells me that it’s a river right now. Not good. The ground is saturated after weeks of above-average rainfall. I curse under my breath. “Uh, this is Adam.”
Ruth releases a long sigh in my periphery, closing her eyes and rubbing a hand on her forehead.
“Yeah. What’s up?” Ike is way too easy on me.
“Stevie took a tour into the preserve tonight, and she’s not answering her phone.” It occurs to me now that it might be weird for me to ask for his friend’s specific location. Why do I still feel like an outsider with this group? I shouldn’t. Stevie is my girlfriend. I don’t like any of this. We should’ve been straightforward from the beginning. “You all don’t share locations, do you?”
“Oh no.” There’s movement on Ike’s end, like he’s already leaving his house. “No, we don’t. I’m headed that way. Be there in—”
“My road is flooded. I can’t leave.” I hate everything about this.
“It’s okay. We’ll find her, man—” A soft, feminine voice on his end stops him short. “Okay, Diana is calling Marlow. We’re on it. Sit tight.” The phone clicks in my ear.
Sit tight?
I can’t think of anything I’d like to do less. But I have no other choice, and I hate it. I wish I felt relief that Ike is taking care of things. Instead, I pace from my living area to my kitchen and back.
“Okay, sit.” Ruth stabs her finger at my worn leather couch. “You’re driving me bonkers. Time out. Now.”
My sister’s voice makes Sammie’s bright eyes widen. “Unkie Adamchubble,” she states matter-of-factly.
“Yes, Sammie.” Ruth grins at me. “Uncle Adam is in big trouble.”
“Why am I in trouble?” I ask, fully aware of the answer as I drop onto my couch. I toss my phone onto the cushion at my side. “Sorry I’m so edgy. I’m ... worried.” That hardly covers what I’m feeling.
When Sammie lunges for my phone, I don’t stop her. The thing is a useless brick when I can’t reach Stevie.
“I get it,” Ruth says with a frown at the darkened windows. “But I meant that you’re in trouble, as in you’re a goner for Stevie Sullivan, the staunch believer in sasquatches.”
Meanwhile, Sammie smacks my kneecap with my phone. “Wah-melon,” she demands. “Wah-melon.”
I scoop my niece under her arms, hoisting her onto my lap. When I take my phone to open the watermelon-smashing game I downloaded for her, she screeches in protest.
“Do you want to play Watermelon or not? You gotta give me my phone for a second, kid.” Toddlers are something else.
She looks at me with suspicion, barely allowing me to hold my phone long enough to open her game. I’m grateful for the distraction while I figure out how to explain the situation with Stevie. I help Sammie smash a few watermelons while I think, until she pries my hand away from my phone with chubby fingers.
“I do it.” She emphasizes the hard T, and a fleck of toddler spittle hits my hand. She settles against me, hogging my phone.
I wipe my hand on my jeans. I guess I can start with the easy part. “Iama goner for Stevie.”
Ruth squeals, throwing her head back and flopping onto the carpet. “I knew it!” She loves this stuff.
I’m happy to make Ruth happy, but all I can think about is Stevie out in this thunderstorm somewhere. Unless she made it out? I wish I knew one way or another. Worry and anxiety makemy muscles tense. I can’t just sit here. I scrub my hand through my hair. What can I do? There has to be something.
“Okay, I’m distracting you.” Ruth stretches her legs, taking advantage of her daughter’s temporary diversion. This is as close to a vacation as my sister ever gets. “Tell me what you love about Stevie.”
“Ruth,” I grumble. I didn’t say I love her. I’ve only known her for a few weeks.
“Let me have this,” my sister snaps.
“Awfully quick to order me around for someone who showed up uninvited and unannounced this morning,” I grumble, swiping my finger across my phone to smash a watermelon. I don’t mind my sister being here, but I have to bust her chops or she’ll walk all over me.
