Yesterday's Gone. Janice Kay Johnson
at all. He... I was way behind in school.” Yep, eleven years old and she had kindergarten under her belt. “Of course they had no idea what was wrong initially. They put me in special ed classes, but I picked things up so fast, I was back in regular classrooms after about a year. I must have already been reading pretty well when—you know.”
Tears in her eyes, Karen nodded. “You were reading at a second-grade level after kindergarten.”
Bailey nodded. “I kept reading. Books, when I could get my hands on them, or newspapers or just about anything. And I watched TV, so I knew about politics and crime—”
Both flinched.
“Not a clue about multiplication tables,” she said lightly. She hadn’t had a clue about so many things. “I’d never had a chance to use a computer.” She shrugged. “But, like I said, I adapted fast. The first few years were hard, though.”
“But...you’d been rescued from so much worse,” Karen faltered.
How do you know? Bailey thought resentfully, but caught herself. The fact she’d just admitted to receiving no education in those missing years must have given them a hint. Of course he hadn’t dared put her in school, even aside from the fact that he couldn’t produce the identification or records any school district would have demanded. Never mind the fact he kept them on the move. She’d didn’t remember ever staying in the same place more than a couple of months.
She tried to think how to explain how fish-out-of-water she’d felt after he left her.
“Any reality gets so it’s almost comfortable. The new reality was so extremely different—I didn’t fit. I didn’t know how to relate to people.” Not as if she was an expert at that, even now. “I withdrew, and a lot of foster parents didn’t know how to deal with that, even if they were well-meaning.” Seeing their faces, she said hastily, “I had some nice ones along the way, though. I lived with the same family my last three years. They’re...good people. I’ve stayed in touch.”
“Oh.” Karen dabbed at her wet cheeks with her cloth napkin. “I’d love to be able to thank them.”
“I...maybe I can introduce you sometime.” Weird thought. Weirder was realizing that once the press conference happened, the Neales would read all about her history, just as everyone else she knew would. Maybe she should call them before that happened.
Your life will never be the same. Hearing Seth’s voice, she felt panic swell in her, stealing her breath again. Everyone would know. Casual friends, fellow students, employers. Her face would become famous.
It already is.
The Lawsons were both staring at her in alarm, and she wondered what she’d given away.
“Um, have you told anyone else about me?”
“Yes, of course. I called your grandma and grandpa Peters, and your grandma Lawson.” Karen looked momentarily sad. “Your grandfather Lawson died two years ago of a stroke. I wish he could have lived to see this day. And, well, I called my sister, and Kirk’s brother, and some friends. I’m sure Eve has told people. She was so excited.”
Sure she was.
But what boggled Bailey’s mind was the number of people who already knew.
“You don’t think any of them would have called a reporter, do you?” she asked anxiously.
“I can’t imagine,” Karen exclaimed, looking shocked. “Why would they?”
“Because my reappearance is news? Big news, and they might enjoy the attention?”
“But that’s...that’s...” She stopped, either unable to describe what that was or because understanding was finally dawning. “You’ve surely told people, too,” she said at last.
Bailey shook her head. “Nobody.”
“Not even friends?”
“No. I...wasn’t sure I believed it.”
“That you’re our Hope.”
“Yes.”
“Do you now?” Kirk asked, eyes keen on her face.
Bailey tried to smile. “It’s hard not to. I mean, look at us.”
He glanced at Karen’s face and back to Bailey. “Nobody could mistake you two for anything but mother and daughter.”
“There’s the birthmark, too.”
He nodded, as if feeling a weight settling onto him. “Your smile. We’ll have to show you pictures.”
“I’d like that,” she lied.
“You think we’ll need to have the press conference right away,” Karen said suddenly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t use my head. I don’t believe anybody close to us would go to the press, but everyone I called has probably told everyone they’ve talked to since. I should have kept it quiet until you were ready.”
Bailey couldn’t help making a face. “Are you ever ready for something like this?”
“No. Oh, my. A press conference. Everyone will be staring at us.” She sounded appalled. “What should we wear?”
Bailey laughed, the familiar, feminine wail providing comic relief. “I have absolutely no idea. I’ve seen this kind of press conference on TV without ever paying the slightest attention to what people were wearing. I’m not sure anybody cares.”
Her mother’s back straightened. “I care.”
“So do I,” Bailey admitted, then thought—wait. Did I just think of her as my mother?
Yes.
“I suppose we should talk to Seth—I mean, Detective Chandler. He said he’d arrange everything.”
“Should we call him?” Karen sounded dithery.
“I agreed to meet him later today,” Bailey said. “I’ll call you after I do, okay? Um, I should get your phone number.”
Adding so many new numbers to her contacts list made this all seem real.
Jarred, she thought, Another new reality.
She added the Lawsons’ home phone, Kirk’s cell phone, and Eve’s cell phone.
“She doesn’t have a home phone,” Karen said, sounding mildly disapproving.
“I don’t, either. Most people our age don’t.”
Her phone rang, startling her. Seth. She answered. “Is something wrong?”
“Not wrong.” He hesitated. “I just had an inquiry from a journalist at our local paper asking if there was any truth to the rumor that Hope Lawson had been found alive and well.”
Bailey closed her eyes. “We were just talking about that. Karen called everyone in the family as well as some friends. And of course they may have spread the word, too.”
“Cat’s out of the bag. I think we need to accelerate our timing. I’ve talked to the sheriff and our PR people. We want to do it this afternoon.”
He gave her details. There was apparently a small auditorium of sorts in the new public safety building that held the courthouse as well as the Stimson city police department. The sheriff’s department was borrowing it. Someone was already calling news outlets.
“I think we’ll have a full house, Bailey.”
“Oh, God.”
“It might be good if we can get Eve there, too. Otherwise, someone will think to corner her later for a quote. Best to get it over with in one gulp.”
She pictured herself slithering down some monster’s maw. Lovely thought.