earlier that day—had it really been that same day? She felt the strength of Hannah’s embrace in return. “Thank you,” Hannah said. But somehow Abby felt as though she had been the one who had been helped.
----
When she returned to her room, Abby calculated the time in Indiana and decided that Emily would be home from her summer job by now. Abby sat cross-legged on the bed and dialed the long string of numbers, amazed at how simple it was to call someone halfway around the world. She felt childishly excited, longing for the sound of her daughter’s voice. She pictured Emily in shorts, barefooted, sitting outside on the porch swing with the portable phone propped against her shoulder.
“Hello.”
A man answered the phone, not Emily.
“Greg? Why aren’t you at work?”
“Abby? This isn’t Greg, it’s me . . . Mark.”
Rage boiled up inside her, out of control. “How dare you come into my house the moment I’m gone! Get out, Mark! Get out right now !”
Abby thought she had finished trembling for the day, but she began to shake uncontrollably. She heard Mark’s muffled voice as he handed Emily the phone, telling her to talk to her mother.
“Mom, I’m sorry . . . please don’t be mad.” Emily was crying. “I asked Daddy to come over. Somebody broke into our house. They trashed the place, Mom. I came home from work and saw the mess and . . . and I was just so scared! I called the police and then I tried to call Greg but I couldn’t reach him, so I called Daddy at work. He just got here a few minutes ago.”
Abby leaned against the headboard and closed her eyes, trying to take it all in. What more could happen on this disastrous day? “It’s all right, honey. Don’t cry. How . . . how much did they steal?”
“It’s hard to tell with this mess . . . and we haven’t finished looking yet. So far we’re missing some cash and that little TV you keep in the kitchen . . . and Greg’s portable CD player and maybe your cell phone, unless Greg has them. The police think the thieves were mostly looking for money.”
“I’m coming home.”
“Mom, no! Don’t do that! You worked so hard to save for your trip. I’ll be all right. Daddy offered to sleep here for a few nights until I stop shaking.”
“Emily—”
“I’m scared, Mom. The police said that sometimes the thieves will wait until you replace everything and then break in again. Besides, I don’t have a clue what to do about the insurance and everything.”
Abby could barely control her fury. “I don’t want your father and that . . . woman in my house!”
“She’s not here, Mom,” Emily said in a lowered voice. “Just Dad. He knows how Greg and I feel.”
“Well, your father is not moving back in! He can stay tonight, but then I want him gone!”
“All right . . . I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you, Mom. I didn’t even ask how you were or how your trip went. Did you survive the flight okay?”
Abby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For some reason—maybe the fact that Mark was with Emily—Abby suddenly decided not to relate her story. “Well, I’m here,” she finally said. “Which is more than I can say for my luggage.”
“You’re kidding! They lost your luggage?”
“It never showed up in Amsterdam.”
“That’s awful!”
Not nearly as awful as having an Israeli spy die in your arms , Abby wanted to add. “It happens,” she said instead. “Airlines lose luggage every day. In fact, it’s a wonder any of it ever shows up in the right place.”
“Mom, hang on a minute. Daddy wants to talk to you.”
“No! I have nothing more to say to him—”
“Hello, Abby?”
As soon as she heard Mark’s voice, Abby slammed down the receiver.
CHAPTER 3
NETANYA, ISRAEL—1999
A bby awoke the next morning to the soft, distant sigh of waves breaking against the beach. She pulled open the curtains to a breathtaking view of the Mediterranean, the water silvery in the early light.
“Beautiful . .
----
When she returned to her room, Abby calculated the time in Indiana and decided that Emily would be home from her summer job by now. Abby sat cross-legged on the bed and dialed the long string of numbers, amazed at how simple it was to call someone halfway around the world. She felt childishly excited, longing for the sound of her daughter’s voice. She pictured Emily in shorts, barefooted, sitting outside on the porch swing with the portable phone propped against her shoulder.
“Hello.”
A man answered the phone, not Emily.
“Greg? Why aren’t you at work?”
“Abby? This isn’t Greg, it’s me . . . Mark.”
Rage boiled up inside her, out of control. “How dare you come into my house the moment I’m gone! Get out, Mark! Get out right now !”
Abby thought she had finished trembling for the day, but she began to shake uncontrollably. She heard Mark’s muffled voice as he handed Emily the phone, telling her to talk to her mother.
“Mom, I’m sorry . . . please don’t be mad.” Emily was crying. “I asked Daddy to come over. Somebody broke into our house. They trashed the place, Mom. I came home from work and saw the mess and . . . and I was just so scared! I called the police and then I tried to call Greg but I couldn’t reach him, so I called Daddy at work. He just got here a few minutes ago.”
Abby leaned against the headboard and closed her eyes, trying to take it all in. What more could happen on this disastrous day? “It’s all right, honey. Don’t cry. How . . . how much did they steal?”
“It’s hard to tell with this mess . . . and we haven’t finished looking yet. So far we’re missing some cash and that little TV you keep in the kitchen . . . and Greg’s portable CD player and maybe your cell phone, unless Greg has them. The police think the thieves were mostly looking for money.”
“I’m coming home.”
“Mom, no! Don’t do that! You worked so hard to save for your trip. I’ll be all right. Daddy offered to sleep here for a few nights until I stop shaking.”
“Emily—”
“I’m scared, Mom. The police said that sometimes the thieves will wait until you replace everything and then break in again. Besides, I don’t have a clue what to do about the insurance and everything.”
Abby could barely control her fury. “I don’t want your father and that . . . woman in my house!”
“She’s not here, Mom,” Emily said in a lowered voice. “Just Dad. He knows how Greg and I feel.”
“Well, your father is not moving back in! He can stay tonight, but then I want him gone!”
“All right . . . I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you, Mom. I didn’t even ask how you were or how your trip went. Did you survive the flight okay?”
Abby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For some reason—maybe the fact that Mark was with Emily—Abby suddenly decided not to relate her story. “Well, I’m here,” she finally said. “Which is more than I can say for my luggage.”
“You’re kidding! They lost your luggage?”
“It never showed up in Amsterdam.”
“That’s awful!”
Not nearly as awful as having an Israeli spy die in your arms , Abby wanted to add. “It happens,” she said instead. “Airlines lose luggage every day. In fact, it’s a wonder any of it ever shows up in the right place.”
“Mom, hang on a minute. Daddy wants to talk to you.”
“No! I have nothing more to say to him—”
“Hello, Abby?”
As soon as she heard Mark’s voice, Abby slammed down the receiver.
CHAPTER 3
NETANYA, ISRAEL—1999
A bby awoke the next morning to the soft, distant sigh of waves breaking against the beach. She pulled open the curtains to a breathtaking view of the Mediterranean, the water silvery in the early light.
“Beautiful . .
Similar Books
