“I don’t think so.”
“No one knows, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay.” She twisted the drawstring cord on the neck of the hooded sweatshirt.
“You ready, Abby-girl?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
They walked out to his truck. He opened the door for her. She got in.
Chapter 40
“You’re bringing all kinds of stuff to make it comfortable, I see.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I figured there wasn’t any point in suffering.”
“It’s nice there? Rustic, but nice?”
“Yeah. It’s okay. Not exactly nice. But it’ll do.”
“I can handle it,” Abby said. She smiled, trying to show him she was brave. She put on her sunglasses and leaned into him. He put his arm around her, but once they were out of town and rambling down the highway, he pushed her away. Not hard, just kind of freeing his arm. He shook it out.
“It was falling asleep,” he said.
“It’s okay.”
Both their windows were down. She scooted away from him, over to her side. She put her hand out and played with the wind resistance, making waves, pressing back against it, slicing through it.
They were going the way she’d taken Esmeralda’s car. She had been concerned he might take her in some completely different direction than she’d expected. Someplace far, far from her buried treasure. But she recognized the billboards and the houses. They were on the right path. The path to Grove.
She thought about the pictures Randall would choose. They’d all be beautiful. She’d have long blonde curls and she’d probably be wearing evening gowns and bikinis. She’d be showcased on yachts and lounging in elite, notable locales. Pictures of Abby looking ordinary didn’t exist. Randall had never seen a reason to commemorate that side of her. This would be his big chance to show off how gorgeous she was, and how lavish and important his life is. He’d offer a huge reward for tips about her disappearance, because he could.
He was going to love that Ernie Blankenship was still in town to take part in it all. That was an accidental act of generosity on Abby’s part.
There would be news conferences and interviews that she’d miss out on since she’d be safely away from technology -- the complete opposite of how she’d lived these past many years. She wasn’t sure which was creepier.
She and Charlie were getting close to their destination. She recognized a house painted teal. A one of a kind landmark. They were nearing the dirt road she’d turned on to bury her treasure. Cinder Road it was called. Maybe another five or ten miles to go.
Randall would definitely want to use the picture of her in Holland. The one with the wooden shoes. That picture was special to her. It had been taken when she was on the family trip to the singing competition. It was the only picture in their house from before Abby lost her soul. She didn’t want it dragged into all this, but he would because he thought it was cute. Maybe the news people would veto it since it was from years and years ago. She wasn’t that pretty anymore and her face couldn’t look so bright or hopeful. She’d almost brought it with, but in the end, she hadn’t had the guts.
Like all beautiful people over the age of twenty-two, how Abby actually looked and how she looked when she was trying hard had diverged quite a bit. Her appearance without makeup was a disguise in itself. This person with the greasy ponytail and her hand out the window would never be confused with Randall’s sophisticated wife. Even her posture wasn’t a match. Randall’s wife, this beautiful missing woman, she had amazing posture. Now Abby, the real Abby, she was a slouchy nobody. Anyone’s eyes would travel right over her.
Stories like this blew over quickly, Abby told herself. It would be big news around here for a couple of weeks. In places like Nebraska and Wyoming no one would have ever heard of her. Some little shop in some little town had a sign going up in the window right now, saying Help Wanted, Barabara Walters please apply inside.
Abby guessed they were nearing Cinder Road when Charlie abruptly veered off to the left on a different little road. She’d been so busy looking out her side that she hadn’t seen the name of it.
“Where are we going?”
“To the farm.”
“This is the way?”
“Yeah.”
Abby looked through the back window. The road they were on was unpaved and all she could see behind them was a cloud of dust. Charlie pulled to the side of the road.