Elephant in the Sky by Heather A. Clark Page A

too? I couldn’t, because that would definitely create suspicion when Grace woke up.
    Instead, I put on a pot of coffee, hoping it would calm my jitters. When it finished percolating, I slugged back the piping hot brew and immediately burned the inside of my mouth.
    â€œShit!” I said, grabbing some ice from the freezer door. I popped it in my mouth and took relief in the icy chill that numbed the pain.
    Three minutes later, after what felt like an eternity, I couldn’t wait any longer. I texted Pete.
    Did you find him?
    His response came almost instantly.
    No, not yet.
    I took my coffee out to the front porch and sank into the thick cushion on one of our portico chairs. The icy October chill immediately found my bones, and I shivered as I waited impatiently for Pete to find Nate. I thought about going inside to get a coat, but didn’t want to remove my eyes from the street.
    Neighbours were starting to poke their heads outside to greet the morning. Many of them quickly picked up their papers and retreated back indoors, ready to absorb the Saturday news alongside their own coffees. A few ventured farther outside to take their dog for a morning walk or rake leaves on their lawn.
    â€œMorning, Ashley!” a voice called out. I looked up, dazed, to see Bernie, our neighbour from across the street, waving at me. He pointed at the Sold sign hanging on his front yard. “Did you see? We sold our house yesterday. Won’t be long before we’re off to Oakville. We need to get to the suburbs. Having nowhere to park our car is driving my wife nuts.”
    â€œCongratulations,” I managed to call back. I could barely focus on what Bernie was telling me. I hadn’t noticed they’d sold their house. Bernie gave me the thumbs-up before picking up his copy of the Globe and Mail on the front porch. He examined the front cover, then waved a final time before disappearing back into his house.
    I wrapped my sweater tighter around me. Since I hadn’t made it out of Nate’s bed the previous night, I was in the same outfit that I’d worn to work the day before.
    I sipped at my coffee, now at a tolerable temperature, and hugged the mug for warmth. With each passing minute, I became more desperate to see our car pull into the driveway, complete with Nate’s lopsided grin shining from the back seat.
    â€œMom … ? What are you doing out here?” I jumped at Grace’s voice and spilled coffee on my pants.
    â€œPardon? Oh, I just thought I’d get some air. Enjoy the morning, you know?” I forced a smile. “Want to join me?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’ve got to go text Emma. Plus, it’s freezing out here.” Grace flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and retreated back in the house.
    Shaking my head, I sensed that Grace didn’t even realize Nate was gone. Depending on her mood, she so often modelled the classic twelve-year-old whose world seemed to start and stop with her ever-evolving group of tween friends, and she became oblivious to everything else.
    I turned my eyes back to the road, straining my ears to hear the sound of our car. Each time I thought I heard one I jumped up, frenetically gawping down the road. I was clinging to hope.
    I needed someone to talk to. I thought about calling my best friend, Tay, but I knew she’d be in the middle of her chaotic Saturday madness, trying to get her four children ready for their various morning activities. Plus, I didn’t want to worry her.
    Tears threatened to fall, then coursed down my cheeks. The longer Nate was gone, the less successful I was at fighting my anxiety over his absence. I could only keep calm for so long. I was losing control of my ability to smack logical sense into the powerful dose of pre-grief agony that takes over a mother’s soul when she is waiting to hear if her child is all right.

13
    Nate
    My ankle is burning. It hurts so, so much. I want my mommy. Where