It’s noisy. I can’t hear you very well.”
“One hour, Abby.”
Abby went in the front door and tossed her purse on the couch. “Mama?”
“I’m in the kitchen.”
Abby went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “You want something to drink?”
“I’m fine.” Mama sounded stuffed up, her eyes red-rimmed.
Abby grabbed a bottle of spring water and sat at the table, facing her mother. “What’s wrong?”
“Why are you going around town asking about the little girl whose picture you took?”
“You told me not to bring it up again.”
“I’m bringing it up. Answer me, please.”
“I want to know who she is, that’s all.”
“Abby, that’s not all. You’ve been claiming to have a doll that belongs to her.”
“It’s Riley Jo’s doll.”
“So it’s a lie.”
Abby took a sip of water. “Not if I’m going on the premise she might actually be Riley Jo.”
“But she’s not. Her name’s Ella.”
Abby didn’t flinch. How did her mother know that? “According to the clerk at Murchison’s, the man and woman she was with called her Ella. But what if those people aren’t her parents?”
“Your sister isn’t coming back, Abby. Neither is your father. You’ve got to accept that. You’re not living with reality, and I’m afraid it’s going to hurt you.”
“No, you’re afraid I’m going to embarrass you again.”
Mama’s eyes welled with tears. “I’ve got a call in to Dixie. We need to nip this in the bud.”
Abby felt hot all over. “Do you really think you can counsel away my hope? I don’t get what you’re afraid of. If it turns out I’m wrong about Ella, so what? But if I’m right, it would be amazing.”
“This behavior is over the top,” Mama said.
“Because I want to find out who she is?”
“You can’t pester people in town.”
“Not one person I’ve talked to seems to mind. I’m just getting the word out there that I want to return her doll, and I’m leaving my name and cell number. If someone knows who she is, they might tell her parents, and they’ll call me.”
“Then what?”
“I’ll tell them that Ella reminds me so much of my baby sister who disappeared. I’ll ask if I can meet her. That just seeing her up close would help me to let my sister go.”
“No parent in their right mind would put their child in a situation like that, Abby. For all they know, you’re a troubled teen.”
“I’ll let them talk to Grandpa. He’ll convince them I’m harmless.”
“You’ve talked to your grandfather about this?”
“No. But he’d do it. I know you won’t.”
Her mother took the wadded-up tissue in her hand and dabbed her eyes. “I know you’re not a dangerous person, but Ella’s parents don’t know that. And I think Dixie would agree with me that searching for a child who looks like your sister on the off chance it might be her isn’t healthy—for you or Ella. And it won’t work anyway. After Ella, it would be someone else.”
“That’s not fair.” Abby’s eyes burned with indignation. “I have a strong connection to her I can’t explain.”
“She isn’t your sister.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that!” Mama’s quivering voice wasn’t convincing.
“Well, I don’t. Can’t you just leave me alone and let me figure it out for myself?”
Kate buried her face in her hands. Finally she looked up and held Abby’s gaze. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to forbid you to do this?”
Abby looked out at the hummingbird feeder attached to the window. “Mama, all I want to do is find Ella. You don’t have to worry that I’m going to fall into some deep depression if she turns out to be the daughter of that man and woman she was with.”
“And what if you can’t find her?”
Abby shrugged. “Then that’s just the way it is.”
A long moment of silence made Abby shift in her chair. It was hard to tell if her mother was angry or just thinking.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Mama said. “I won’t get in the way of your looking for Ella if you agree to go talk to Dixie—willingly and with an open mind.”
“It’s a waste of money.”
“It’s my money, Abby. I’ll make the appointment. Deal or not?”
“Deal.”
Chapter 9
Kate sat at a corner table on the umbrella deck at Angel View Lodge, watching the rental boats returning to the marina as dusk began to fall, her earlier encounter with Abby playing in her mind.
“Your sister isn’t coming back, Abby. Neither is your father. You’ve got to accept that. You’re not living with reality, and I’m afraid it’s going to