The Fortune Quilt by Lani Diane Rich Page A

body tighten with tension. The idea of going back to Tucson suddenly fills me with dread, followed by bleak hopelessness.
    I flip the phone open and see the little voicemail icon at the bottom of the screen, under text that announces I have missed five calls.
    I sigh. I hit the speed dial for voicemail.
    “Carly, it’s Dad.” My heart seizes at the sound of my father’s voice, not a little bit because he sounds so tired. “We just called Christopher’s to see how you were and you weren’t there. Please call us when you get this message.”
    Call us. Us . My stomach churns. I take a sip of my latte, and my stomach calms. It’s a good damn latte.
    “Carly.” Ella. Her voice is low, almost whispering. She must have called from the house. “Dad’s really upset. I know you’re not happy about what’s going on, but he’s going through a lot. Please, just let him know you’re okay. Okay? I love you.”
    The next is from Christopher. “Car. It’s me. Your dad called looking for you and I didn’t know where you were. Call me when you get this. Okay? I’ll be up.”
    And then… “Carly, it’s Lindsay. It’s midnight on Monday night, and Christopher and I are a little concerned, because I guess no one knows where you are? Can you call us when you get a chance?” Her tone gets lower. “Christopher’s kind of upset. If you can just give him a call, let him know you’re okay, it’d really help.”
    There’s a beep, followed by the final message, from Christopher.
    “Carly.” His voice is tight and he sounds awful. Knife. Through. Heart. “Your dad called me last night looking for you. I told him I was sure you were fine, but I just called him this morning, and I guess no one has heard from you.” He releases a heavy breath. “Look, if for some reason you don’t want to talk to me, you know, that’s okay. Just call someone so at least we know you’re okay. I, uh… well. You know.”
    The voicemail bot tells me to press 7 to delete all messages. I press 7, then I put the phone back on the passenger seat. I stare at the winding Bilby main drag ahead of me. I need to follow it to the light, take a right, and go straight for three miles until I catch I-10 back to Tucson. But I don’t want to. I want to crawl under something big and fluffy and sleep. I want to sleep really bad.
    I take another sip of my latte.
    My phone trills again, and I stare at it. The panel on the front IDs Lindsay’s cell phone.
    I pick it up and flip it open.
    “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you guys. Tell everyone I’m fine, okay?”
    “Oh, no, it’s okay, I just was going to leave a quick message for you while Christopher was out. Just to, you know, give him a call. He’s really upset, Carly.”
    “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I’m really, really, really—”
    “Um, Carly?” she says, her voice hesitant. “Did you tell him that I’m in love with him?”
    I freeze. Oh, man. Oh, god. I swallow, squinch my eyes shut and put my hand over them. “I said I thought, maybe—”
    “Okay, yeah, that’s what he said.” There’s a long silence, then, “I kinda wish you hadn’t done that.”
    “I’m sorry,” I say. “It was just a theory and I don’t know why I said it and if it’s true, I’m really sorry—”
    “Whether it’s true or not isn’t really the point,” Lindsay says, and her voice is uncharacteristically harsh, and I know for sure that it’s true. “The point is that you’re confusing him, and he needs to get an answer from you before he can even think about anything else.”
    I am struck silent for a moment.
    I. Am such. An asshole.
    “I’m sorry,” she says, and her voice is back to its typical even tone. “I know there’s a lot going on with your family right now, and I know things are hard for you. It’s just that Christopher is really torn up over this, and I’m a little worried about him. Can you call him on his cell now? He’s out looking for