Tully felt a clutch of jealousy at their intimacy; they were such a beautiful family.
Johnny led Marah out to the car and began loading their suitcases into the back.
Tully looked at Kate. "Youll be here, right? In case I need to call?"
"Im always here, Tully. Thats why they call it being an at-home mom. "
"Very funny. " Tully glanced down at her stuff. On top was a pile of notes shed taken in the most recent phone conversation with her lawyer. It was a list of the last addresses they had for Cloud. "Okay, then. Im out of here. " She grabbed her bag and went out to the car.
When they reached the end of the driveway, she twisted around in her seat.
There was Kate, still standing at the front door, with two little boys hanging on to her, waving goodbye.
Their first stop, only two hours later, was at a mobile home park in Fall City. Clouds last known address. But her mother had apparently moved out a week ago and no one yet had a forwarding address. The man they spoke to thought Cloud had moved to a campground in Issaquah.
For the next six hours they drove from place to place, following leads—Tully, Johnny, Marah, and a cameraman who called himself Fat Bob for good reason. At every stop, they filmed a segment of Tully talking to people at the various campgrounds and communes. Several people knew who Cloud was, but no one seemed to know where to find her. They went from Issaquah to Cle Elem to Ellensburg. Marah hung on Tullys every word.
They were finishing a late night dinner in North Bend when Fred called with a report that Clouds last monthly check had been cashed at a bank on Vashon Island.
"We could have been there in an hour," Johnny muttered.
"You think well find her?" Tully asked, pouring sugar into her coffee. It was the first time theyd been alone all day. Fat Bob was in the van and Marah had just gone to the restroom.
Johnny looked at her. "I think we cant make people love us. "
"Including our parents?"
"Especially our parents. "
She felt a hint of their old connection again. Theyd had that in common, she recalled. Lonely childhoods. "Whats it like, Johnny, being loved?"
"Thats not the question you want to ask. You want to know what its like to love someone. " He gave her a grin that made him look like a kid again. "Besides yourself, I mean. "
She leaned back. "I need new friends. "
"I wont pull back, you know. You better be okay with that. Youve got me on this story now. The camera will be there, seeing all of it. If you want to back out, this is the time. "
"You can protect me. "
"Thats what Im telling you, Tully. I wont. Ill follow the story. Like you did in Germany. "
She understood what he was saying. Friendship ended when the story rolled; it was an axiom of journalism. "Just try to shoot me from the left. Its my good side. "
Johnny smiled and paid the bill. "Go get Marah. If we hurry, we might be able to catch the last ferry. "
In fact, they missed the last ferry and ended up sleeping in three rooms in a run-down hotel near the dock.
The next morning Tully woke with a pounding headache that no amount of aspirin could tame. Still, she got dressed and put on her makeup and ate breakfast at some greasy spoon diner that Fat Bob recommended. By nine in the morning they were on the ferry, headed to a berry-growing commune on Vashon Island.
Every step of the way, every mile driven, the camera was on Tully. As she interviewed the tellers at the bank where the last check was cashed and showed the old and creased picture of her mother—the only photo she had of her—she maintained her smile.
It wasnt until almost ten oclock when they pulled up to the SUNSHINE FARMS sign that she began to lose her grip.
The commune was like others shed seen: long, rolling acres covered in crops, shaggy-looking people dressed in the modern-day equivalent of sackcloth and ashes, rows of Sani-Cans. The main difference was the housing. Here, people lived in domed tents called yurts. There were at least thirty of them lining the river.
Johnny pulled into a parking stall and got out of the van. Fat Bob followed suit, sliding the van door open and then slamming it shut.
Marah said worriedly, "Are you okay, Aunt Tully?"