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“People really think she was kidnapped?” I asked, trying to get back to the topic at hand. “I thought most people were saying she ran away.”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. People are all just weirded out over it.”

“But she ran away before, right?”

They both nodded.

I shook my head. Extra vigilance wasn’t a bad idea, especially if someone knew more about her disappearance than I did. But after my conversation with Detective Hanborn, it seemed as if everyone had settled on the idea that she had taken off on her own. Not a hint of foul play, at least according to Hanborn. And even Amanda’s family seemed certain that it was nothing to be worried over.

“I can’t find the St. Patrick’s box, Daisy!” Jake yelled up from the basement, his voice traveling through the heating ducts. “Does it say decorations on it?”

“I don’t remember!” I called back. “Just keep looking.”

“We should probably go,” Andy said.

“Yeah,” Emily said, then she looked at me. “Why is he looking for St. Patrick’s Day decorations?”

“Because I told him to,” I answered as I followed them to the kitchen.

“But that’s months away,” Emily said. “And we don’t have St. Patrick’s Day decorations.”

“I know.” I smiled at both of them and opened the door. “You two have a great time.”

THIRTY ONE

Emily made it home around ten and was in a great mood. I took that as a sign that the date went well and resisted the urge to ask for a second-by-second recap. I just asked if she had a good time and she smiled and said yes and disappeared into her room. It was enough for me. For now.

After a half hour of searching, Jake came back upstairs, dirty, sweaty, and frustrated that he couldn’t find the box. I told him it was okay, it could wait and we’d look for it the next day.

We’d gone to bed and I woke up early the next morning. I got Emily and Jake off to school and work, respectively, then after feeding the other three waffles and smoothies, got them out the door when Brenda pulled up. Her kids were in need of some play time, so Brenda had offered to take them for the day and I accepted the offer.

I was just getting used to the quiet in the house when there was a knock on the door.

Joanne Claussen waved at me through the window.

I opened the door and a blast of cold air hit me. There was snow in the forecast for later in the week and I was trying to mentally prepare myself for winter’s onslaught.

It wasn’t working.

“Hi,” I said, motioning her inside. “Come on in.”

“I’m sorry to just drop in on you like this,” she said, her hands shoved tightly into the pockets of her coat. “But I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again.”

I closed the door behind her. “That’s okay. And, yeah. Figured we should talk about the program.”

She stood in the kitchen, running a hand through her curly hair, her nose a startling shade of pink from the cold. “I was sorry to hear...about whatever happened between you and Eleanor.”

“She didn’t make some grand announcement?” I asked.

“Just that you’d no longer be at the theater and that it was at her request,” she said. A nervous smile creased her lips. “And that I should speak with you about the program.”

Much of the anger and frustration I’d felt two days earlier after my confrontation with Eleanor threatened to resurface. But I didn’t want the negative energy to eat up my day. So I took a deep breath and reminded myself to let it go.

“I’m happy to finish up the program,” I told Joanne. It wasn’t true but I sold it well. “If you’re fine with that. I can have it finished this morning and off to the printer today. I can have it delivered to you when it’s done so that I don’t have to bring it by the theater.”

She looked like she might cry tears of joy. “Really?”

“Sure. I don’t have a problem with you or the program. I’m happy to finish it.”

She exhaled. “Oh my gosh, Daisy. That would be so fantastic. The whole way over here, all I kept thinking about was how in the world was I going to finish that program.” She smiled the nervous smile again. “And to be clear, I wouldn’t have blamed you one bit if you didn’t want to finish it. You’re a bigger person than I am.”

“I don’t know about that,” I told her, thinking about how I’d sulked and railed over the injustices of being banned from the theater. “But I’m happy to finish it up today. Unless Eleanor gave you orders for something else.”

She winced, then shook her head. “She didn’t. And since I’m in charge of it, I’m going to leave it with you. Because I really appreciate it.”

Joanne was a nice lady. I just needed to remind myself that I was helping her more than Eleanor. Like my girls, she didn’t need to be penalized because Eleanor and I had had a disagreement.

“Okay then,” I said. “I’ll get it over to the printers this afternoon. I’ll let you know when it’ll be ready.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, sighing again. “Given everything else that doesn’t seem ready, it’s a relief to know that at least this is taken care of.”

I leaned back against the kitchen counter. I should have invited her in, offered her a cup of coffee, but she didn’t look like she wanted to stay. “Other things aren’t ready?”

She pursed her lips and lines formed on her forehead. “Well, I shouldn’t really be the judge. But Madison...doesn’t seem quite ready yet, no.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “She’s had trouble remembering her lines. She seems to miss her marks quite a bit, too.” She bit her bottom lip. “It’s just been a bit rough.”

Even though a small, petty part of me was glad to hear that, the majority of me was not. Not just because I had Dopey and Sneezy in the play, but because as much as I didn’t like Madison, she was still just a kid.  “Oh, wow. That’s not good.”

“No, it’s really not,” she said. “And she and Eleanor have been at one another’s throats.” She shook her head. “I just hope we’re ready for opening night.”

“How are ticket sales?” I asked.

“Actually, pretty good,” she said, but the lines formed in her forehead again. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing, though, now.”

“Why not?”

Her shoulders seemed to sag beneath her coat. “I’ve promised everyone a great show. Everyone I’ve talked to in the last two months, I’ve told them how fantastic the play will be. People who’ve bought tickets are expecting to see an amazing performance.” She winced again. “But now watching Madison on stage...I’m not sure that’s what they’re going to get.” She paused and glanced toward the living room. “I may have made a huge mistake.”

I felt badly for her. She’d gone into the whole production thinking that it might result in permanent employment and now she was worried that her own reputation was at stake.

“Well, it’s not your mistake,” I said gently. “You’re just trying to sell tickets. The production itself isn’t your fault. You have no control over that. You’re not responsible for that.”

It took her a moment, but she finally moved her gaze back to me. “I suppose. It’s just difficult, that’s all. And I’m just afraid it’s not going to all come together in time.”

“Hopefully, it will,” I told her. “You can’t control what you can’t control.”

She thought for a moment. “No, I suppose I can’t.” She forced a smile on her face. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. I should get going. Thank you again for all your work.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

We said goodbye and I held the door open for her as she ventured back outside. I watched her walk down the steps from the porch and get into her car.

She sat there for a moment, her head on the steering wheel before turning the car on and backing out of the driveway.

I truly felt bad for Joanne Claussen. She didn’t seem like someone who would cry wolf so if she said things were bad, I believed her. I thought about Madison not knowing her lines or her marks, and I painted a vivid mental picture of how that might translate on stage in a play with a cast of over fifty kids. It didn’t look good.