The Center of the World by Sheehan Jacqueline

Author:Sheehan, Jacqueline [Sheehan, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-10-30T07:00:00+00:00

Kate hadn’t seen Will in two days and she wondered if he had packed up and left. Was he just a backpacker guy, post–Peace Corps worker, a vagabond? Will never told her where he was staying. She had scared him off with her seriousness and need, and with Sofia. It was better that she had not told him one thing more, better that she didn’t think about him at all.

Marta’s husband was having trouble selling their property in Australia and would not be returning for weeks. Marta said she longed to talk with someone and that someone was Kate. If Kate came downstairs with Sofia, Marta was there in a flash, seeking the camaraderie of another woman, and another English speaker. Marta was a fountain of questions about the adoption process, now that Kate had confirmed that yes, she was planning on adoption.

“How long will it take? Can I help in any way? It’s odd that they don’t want to meet with you and Sofia together. What in blazes can take them so long? Not that I mind you being here, but surely they can’t expect you to stay here forever. But come to think of it, I don’t know what Felix and I would do if you and Sofia left.”

While these were perfectly normal questions, life had ceased being normal. Since the massacre and finding out about the casa de engordes for little children like Sofia, embers of suspicion ignited in Kate, glowing hot with any inquiry about the child. She was becoming adept at nonanswers.

“Adoption is a long process,” she said. “We’re progressing right on schedule.” Lying grated on her but she no longer felt safe announcing to the world that she had a child and that adoption was a problem. What if someone kidnapped Sofia and sold her?

Kate had already been in Antigua for ten days and she was no closer to finding a solution. Fernando would say only that he was making inquiries. She hadn’t heard anything from Kirkland and she desperately hoped for a lifeline of sorts from her. And if she stayed in the guesthouse with Marta all day, she’d never clear her head enough to think. Marta’s propensity for small talk far out-stripped Kate’s threshold.

It was midday and the two kids collapsed on Marta’s couch. This is how Sofia would have slept at her home, pressed up against her brother like two halves of a walnut, inches away from Manuela and Jorge.

“Go on,” said Marta. “You have the look of a mother who needs an outing. The children are fine here.”

She looked like a mother? Kate put on her jacket and headed to the street. Fernando’s café would have to do as a retreat for her thoughts.

The guesthouse was five blocks from the central square. Storefronts opened directly onto the sidewalks, all the size of closets with thinly spaced stock on dusty shelves: a can of Spam, two boxes of powdered milk, bottles of orange soda, a pile of bananas, and squares of grainy chocolate wrapped in paper.

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