bag?”
“Sneakers,” Gram said.
“But how…” Jo started to ask, but Gram held her hand up to stop her. Someone must’ve tipped Gram off. Maybe that was why she had been on the phone earlier.
“I don’t know anything for sure,” Gram said.
For once, Jo and Gram were on the same side. She peeked into the bag at a pair of white sneakers. Caroline would have to get them a little dirty so they wouldn’t look so new. “Where are her old ones?” she asked.
“I tossed them,” Gram said.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Kevin asked, and set his coffee mug down in the sink. He folded his arms and looked back and forth between them.
Johnny walked into the kitchen, scratching his head. His dark hair was almost to his shoulders, and the way it swooped to the side was a reflection of Jo’s own hair, albeit a more masculine version yet with a hint of something feminine, too. Jo knew the girls his age thought it made him look sensitive.
“Why is everyone looking at me?” Johnny asked, and yawned.
“Have you seen your sister?” Gram asked.
“Why? What did she do?” He opened the refrigerator door and grabbed a gallon of milk. Then he pulled a box of cereal and large bowl from the cabinet, plucked a spoon from the drawer, and sat at the table.
“She didn’t do anything,” Jo said. At least, she hoped. “But we need to find her.”
“Try her phone,” Johnny said through a mouthful of cereal, milk dripping from his chin.
“I can’t get a signal.” She looked at Kevin. “Will you take Johnny and search the colony? I’ll check to see if she’s at the lake. Gram, you wait here in case she comes home.”
Johnny dropped his spoon. “In the rain?”
“The storm is almost over,” Kevin said and gave Jo a worried glance. “Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Later,” she said. “Just go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Kevin walked beside Johnny. The sun broke through the storm clouds. The rain slowed to a drizzle. There must have been a rainbow somewhere, but the trees in the colony were as big as giants and centuries old, blocking much of the view of the sky except for the occasional glimpses between branches.
Johnny stuffed his hands into his pockets. His hair covered his face. It was hard for Kevin to read his expression, but he could sense the boy’s angst. The silence between them felt strained and uncomfortable. Kevin was sorry for it, knowing he was partly to blame. He had no idea how to cross the invisible divide that kept Johnny separate from him, or even if he wanted to.
“Maybe she’s at the ballpark,” Kevin said, knowing how much Caroline loved to play ball. Why she would be in the park in the rain he couldn’t say. But the kids often hung out in the dugouts for the lack of anything better to do. It’s what he might’ve done at her age.
He continued. “You know you’re a pretty good ballplayer. Good enough to get a baseball scholarship if you wanted to go to college.”
“Really?” Johnny said in his cocky voice. “We’re going to talk about this now?”
“Do you have something else you’d rather talk about?”
Johnny sighed. “No.”
Kevin lit a cigarette. Life would be easier if Johnny went to college and moved away. It was a selfish thought, but one he had often and believed to be true. He wondered if maybe it would give his marriage a fresh start, a new beginning, or as the kids say a “do-over.”
He had rarely been alone with Johnny when he had been a toddler running around the backyard with his baseball bat, let alone the teenager he had become, the man he would be. Kevin had spent a lifetime on the road in his rig. It had been easier to stay away than deal with the tension at home, the guilt he felt whenever he looked at Jo and Johnny, the mother and son who were getting along fine without him. He admitted it was what he wanted. A part of him was afraid of Johnny. Hell, Kevin was just a kid himself when Johnny was born.
“This summer sucks,” Johnny mumbled.
Kevin glanced at him. “They’ll find the little girl and things will go back to normal. You’ll see. Heil will make sure of it.”
“Well, it sure is taking a long time.” Johnny sounded annoyed and maybe he heard it in his own voice because he added, “I don’t mean to sound cruel. I