Part Sixty-Five

Continued from Part Sixty-Four

Friday, October 14

Having made the return trip from Seattle, fidgeting in her seat the entire way, Peggy rushed down the ramp from the ferry as soon as it landed at Bainbridge Island, leaving in her wake a trail of curious morning commuters. She quickly walked the distance to her house and got directly into her car. She thought about going in first to check for messages but decided that there wasn't time.

It normally took Peggy about ten minutes to drive to Rolling Bay. She made it in eight.

There was no answer when she knocked on Raoul's door. She let herself in with her own key. At that moment, in spite of everything, she was reminded of how familiar it was to let herself into Raoul's house, and how, for the past week, she had been away from that routine, and missed it.

"Raoul," she called out as she entered. "Raoul, are you here?"

Something about the quiet echo of her voice told her the house was empty. The gray morning light coming through the windows made everything look ghostly. She switched on a light, which brightened the room, but did not warm it.

She shivered and walked slowly toward the bedroom. "Raoul?"

In the room she found... nothing. Raoul's bed was made. She sat on it and smoothed the comforter with her hand. It was cool. She didn't think the bed had been slept in recently.

Peggy searched the entire house and the garage. His motorcycle was gone, along with his helmet, boots and riding clothes. She returned to the bedroom and walked through it to the bathroom. His toothbrush was gone. But she noticed on the counter an almost-empty tube of toothpaste, flattened into a curved, bumpy spine. She checked the bathroom closet. A new tube of toothpaste that had been there was gone.

She opened his bedroom closet and tried to figure out what was missing. The suits he most often wore were hung neatly from the bar. His dress shoes were side by side on the floor. Therefore he didn't go on a business trip, at least he didn't dress for it. She pulled open a dresser drawer, but she couldn't figure out what, if anything, was missing.

In the kitchen, by the door leading to the garage, she looked carefully at the pile of shoes. Her own garden clogs were among them, looking right at home. Raoul's sandals rested one on top the other. What was missing? Then it hit her: an old pair of running shoes was gone. That gave her an idea. She crossed the room to a hall closet and rummaged through it. Raoul kept a backpack there that he used when he rode his motorcycle. It was gone.

Peggy put on a kettle of water for tea. Her hands trembled as she reached for the dial to turn on the flame. It came alive, the first sign of life she had witnessed since entering the house. She collected her thoughts: Raoul went on a motorcycle trip and took his backpack and running shoes and a toothbrush with a new tube of toothpaste.

Then Peggy snapped her fingers: maybe he wrote something down! She looked on the kitchen counter near the phone and found only a few old scraps of paper with phone numbers scrawled hastily. She had seen them before. Nothing new. On his desk she searched for a business card or a brochure that looked like it might be recent, or might provide a reason for a sudden trip without telling your… Peggy paused. What was she, exactly? Friend? Girlfriend? What was her status? She felt annoyed suddenly that she didn't have a clearly defined status with Raoul.

The phone rang. Peggy literally jumped into the air. She calmed herself with a few seconds of controlled breathing, and then answered.

"Hello, who's this?" said a woman's voice. Peggy recognized the voice of Deidre, Raoul's daughter.

"Deidre it's me, Peggy."

"Oh thank God someone's home," said Deidre. "I've been trying to call Dad for a couple of days. Did you two go on a trip or something?"

Peggy was stunned. This was more serious than she had realized. "Deidre, I have not been with your father. I've been at home all week, working, but then I got worried when he didn't return my calls. So I came to his house this morning. He seems to have gone off on a trip."

"Alone?"

"Well, uh..." She had not considered that possibility. She cleared her throat. "Well, here are the facts: his motorcycle is gone, and he took a backpack with his running shoes, toothbrush and toothpaste."

"That's it?"

"I imagine he took some clothes. I've only figured out that much."

"He didn't call you before he left?" Deidre's voice had an edge to it.

"No." Peggy could not rid her mind of a nagging thought: what if Raoul had gone away to meet someone, a secret lover, a romantic rendezvous in the country? Would he take his motorcycle? Maybe she also rode a motorcycle. He would dress casually, and bring only a toothbrush and toothpaste. She would be in a leather motorcycle suit, and underwear. After all, one doesn't need much for those kinds of trips. This was a ridiculous line of reasoning, Peggy told herself.

"It's not like him at all," Deidre said. "Are you sure there are no notes lying around?"

"I checked everywhere. I was hoping to find a phone number, or something that might indicate where he has gone."

But as she held the phone to her ear, Peggy went back to the desk and looked again. Perhaps there was something she had missed before. Perhaps a brochure advertising cabins in the mountains, small cozy cabins with nothing but a wood stove and a giant bearskin rug. She imagined him there with only his running shoes and a toothbrush.

"This is not like Dad at all," said Deidre.

"You can say that again."

A shrill whistle from the kitchen interrupted Peggy's thoughts.

"What's that?" asked Deidre.

"The kettle. I was going to drink some tea and think things over. Then I'm going to go home and check my emails and phone messages. Perhaps he sent me something that I overlooked."

"Please call me the minute you know something," pleaded Deidre.

"Of course. And by the way, how's Taylor? He never calls me anymore." Taylor, Jr., Peggy's son, had started up a relationship with Deidre over the summer. Judging from the scant news she received it was still going on.

"Sorry. I guess I'm a distraction," she said. "He's coming this weekend. I'll sit him down and make him call."

"Thanks. Take care, Deidre. I love you." Peggy hung up. She didn't know why she had said that. She had never spoken that way to Deidre before.

She sat on the sofa and drank her tea. But she couldn't relax. She stared into the empty space with her hands on her tea mug and her feet and knees held tightly together. After a while she felt a strong urge to return to her house and check for messages. There might be a brief message waiting for me at this very moment, she thought. Or, better yet, an invitation. 'Join me in the mountains. When can you get here? It's lovely. Pack as little as possible.'

Then Peggy realized that she should also call her boss. She finished her tea quickly and left Raoul's house.

TO BE CONTINUED