A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

KATE
11 YEARS BEFORE
May
Bea and I meet Josh in his yard just shy of eight o’clock. It’s early in
the morning, but already he’s gathered about a dozen people to
search for his missing family. There are more on the way. Still, ours
is a grassroots effort. We gather in a circle and talk about places
Meredith and Delilah might be. Some ask for details about yesterday,
and Josh, rubbing at his forehead, fills them in. He looks wired and
high-strung, but also exhausted. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s
twitchy. I doubt he slept much, if at all. I look around. Leo isn’t here.
Josh left him with the sitter, Charlotte, I assume. Charlotte watches
many kids in the neighborhood. Even Bea and me, without kids of
our own, know who she is. She’s a staple around here. We see her
and the kids out when the weather is nice, parading around the
neighborhood. Charlotte is in her late fifties, sixty, maybe. She lives
alone with her husband.
I wonder if Leo knows what’s happening, if Josh told him. Does he
know that Meredith and Delilah are missing? I doubt it, thinking that
would be indigestible to a four-year-old boy. Crayons go missing.
Puzzle pieces go missing. Moms and sisters do not go missing. I
wonder where Josh told Leo that they are. He would have had to be
confused when he woke up and Delilah wasn’t there.
Among our search party is the woman who owns the yoga studio
where Meredith works. Josh goes to her and apologizes for
Meredith’s absence yesterday. He says, “I hope it wasn’t too much of
an inconvenience.”
She says it was no inconvenience at all, that she and another
teacher split Meredith’s classes among themselves, same as they
did last week when Meredith was sick, and the week before.
Josh is taken aback, as are Bea and me. We exchange a glance.
“What do you mean?” Josh asks, because as far as any of us know,