Star-Crossed Parents

If Taylor thought being eighteen and graduating high school was all it took to make you grown up, she had a lot to learn.

“Hey, buddy!” Leigh slowed as a blue car from the right suddenly came into her lane, practically on top of her. Immediately she forgave every rude thing New York taxi drivers had ever said in her presence. Talk about job stress.

Her cell phone rang and she glanced at it, worried. She needed both hands on the wheel. But what if it was Taylor?

She picked it up to check the call display. It was Wenda, the office manager at work. Before she’d left home, Leigh had called and left a message that she wouldn’t be able to make it in on Friday. Oh, and by the way, Taylor’s graduation party had been canceled.

Wenda was probably panicking right now, but Leigh would have to talk to her later. Right now, the only call worth taking in this traffic was one that might be from her daughter.

Fear tightened her stomach, squeezed her throat. Taylor was okay, she kept telling herself, but what if she wasn’t? Only rarely did Leigh regret the fact that she was a single mother. This was one of those times. It would be nice to have a husband to lean on right now. Someone who knew Taylor and who understood that this sort of behavior just wasn’t like her.

The police didn’t get it. Her call had not been treated with the urgency it deserved. In their eyes Taylor was an adult. The fact that she’d left a note proved she was acting of her own free will.

Just this winter, Leigh had been required to sign the application for Taylor’s college admission. Now, if Taylor felt like it, she could enlist in the military and go to war.

As if a few months and a birthday were all it took to make you a grown-up.

The world was a crazy place.

A car on Leigh’s tail honked, then pulled out and passed. It seemed to Leigh that the vehicles on both sides of her were driving much faster than she was. She pressed a little harder on the accelerator, gripped the steering wheel a little more tightly.

This was terrifying.

Suddenly, spending a few thousand on a cab fare seemed like a brilliant idea. If only she could take the bus, as Taylor had been smart enough to do. But there was no time. She probably couldn’t get to Jefferson before Taylor did, but Leigh was going to get there as fast as possible.

Before PartyMan had a chance to…

No, she couldn’t think about that.

According to MapQuest, she had over three hundred miles ahead of her, six hours of driving.

Six hours that her daughter would be at PartyMan’s mercy…

“D ID YOU CATCH the Red Sox game last night, Uncle Sam?”

“Huh?” Sam flipped a page in the Lands’ End catalogue. Lately, his sister had been at him about his wardrobe. It seemed like every item he owned was wearing out. Even the cleaners had told him he needed some new shirts. But what colors? What size? Susan had always bought his clothes for him.

“The Mets trounced them.”

He closed the catalogue and looked at Robin, who was grinning at him as he read the sports section of the Boston Globe. Robin loved baseball, like just about everyone else in Jefferson—except for Josh and Robin’s mom, Kate.

“That rookie pitcher for the Mets is hot. Some say he reminds them of you, in the early years.”

“Is that right?” He opened the catalogue again and heard Robin sigh. Poor kid was always trying to engage him in baseball talk. You’d think his mother’s aversion to the subject would have turned him off, but it hadn’t. Sam’s own feelings about the game were ambivalent. Baseball had given him a lot, but it had cost him plenty, too.

“Say, when you were pitching, did you ever—”

The sound of a bell cut Robin short. Outdoor lights illuminated a cherry-colored Ford Fusion as it pulled up to the pumps.

“I’ll get this one.” Sam tossed the catalogue behind the counter, then moved briskly toward the car. The Fusion’s plates told him it was a rental from New York. The driver was an attractive brunette, who must not have noticed this was a full-service station because she was out of the driver’s seat before he could ask her what grade of gas she wanted.

She looked to be in her thirties, a petite, pretty woman who radiated tension. He eyed the fancy dress she was wearing. The matching shoes. The slender, yet muscular, calves.

“Can you tell me where Jefferson is?”

He bristled at her tone. A “hello” would have been a nice courtesy. But this woman was clearly in a hurry.

“You’re in it.” She couldn’t have missed the hand-painted sign just a hundred yards up the road.

It wasn’t unusual for strangers to have recognized him by now, but this woman’s glance was dismissive and short. She was far more interested in the surrounding countryside than the human being in front of her.

“But where are the stores?”

He pointed out the Grocery sign behind him. “Right here. School’s around the bend. So’s the post office and general store.”

As she processed that, he glanced through the window into her car. A black duffel bag was tossed on the back seat. MapQuest directions were taped to the front dash. He smiled at that. On the front passenger seat, along with a cell phone, lay some crumpled tissues and an empty bottle of water.

He gave the woman a closer look. There were smudges of mascara under her eyes. Had she been crying? But she didn’t look sad. She looked angry.

“On holiday?” he asked, though she clearly wasn’t. She was dressed as if she was on her way to a fancy cocktail party, though that couldn’t possibly be the case. Cocktail parties in Jefferson were about as rare as beach parties in the Antarctic.

“No. I’m looking for Oak Valley Road. Do you know where that is?”

She was looking for his place? No, he realized suddenly. Josh’ s.

Now he made the connection. This woman had the same delicate build and coloring of the girl Josh had picked up from the bus earlier.

She seemed a little young to be Taylor Hartwell’s mother, but Sam would have bet his business that was who she was. The woman was burning off more carbon than any gasoline-sucking combustion engine he’d ever seen.

She was pissed.

He thought of the used tissues in her car and amended his assessment. Also upset.

“Well? Have you heard of it? I hope I didn’t write down the address incorrectly.”

She looked as if she was about to pull her hair out at that possibility, so he was quick to reassure her. “I’ve heard of it. Actually, it’s my road. My house is there and so is the cabin where my nineteen-year-old son lives.”

“Your son. Is he Josh Wallace, by any chance?”

“That’s him.”

“And you said he’s only nineteen?” Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Well, that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about, at least.”

“Pardon?”

“Sorry. I’m just—When I got home from work this afternoon, I found a note from my daughter. She said she’d gone to meet this guy she’d met over the Internet. You can imagine my reaction. She’s only eighteen.”

Sam swallowed. Yeah, he could imagine her reaction, all right. Good God, what was the matter with Josh? Why hadn’t he told him about this? Sam would have advised him to talk to the girl’s mother, at least.