“No!” Nora insisted. “Now why in the world would he need his Passport at basketball camp?” She began digging through his desk drawers. “I am sure it is in here somewhere. Maybe he just stuck it somewhere else by accident.”
Joanna sat on Grant’s bed and picked up the book that he had apparently been reading; there was another open book on his nightstand, and she examined it too. She raised her eyebrow curiously as she reached for the book on the floor. “Well, here’s a clue for you,” she sighed. “Apparently every book he was reading before he left is set in Venice.”
“Venice?” Nora exclaimed.
“I’m positive,” Joanna replied. “All of these stories take place in Venice.”
“Venice?” Nora repeated.
“As in Italy, Mother,” Joanna nodded.
“Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” Emily suggested.
Joanna picked up another book off the floor. “Here’s more proof if you need it,” she laughed. “A few of Shakespeare’s best…also set in Venice.”
“Randy, do you really think he is capable of taking off to another country without so much as informing me?” Nora fretted.
“I think that one is capable of just about anything,” Randy rolled his eyes. “But if he is in Venice, I’ve got news for him. He better start heading south to Vatican City because that boy will be in serious need of prayer when I get my hands on him.”
Nora followed Randy out of Grant’s room, and Joanna laughed to herself as she sat on the edge of her brother’s bed.
“Please share, Joanna. I could stand to hear something funny right now,” Emily sighed as she flopped down beside her.
Joanna closed Grant’s book and pulled it close to her chest. “Oh, I don’t know,” she grinned. “It’s just…sometimes…I think it might be sort of nice to be a little more like Grant.”
“Are you kidding?” Emily exclaimed. “He’s going to cause our sweet mother to have a stroke! The bulging, pulsing vein in Dad’s head may actually explode this time!”
“I know,” Joanna nodded. “Trust me, I don’t condone skipping the country without telling a soul, but…at the same time…I sort of wish I had the courage to do it.”
“What?” Emily asked, surprised. “You sound as presumptuous as he is.”
Joanna laughed as she began gathering the books spread around Grant’s room. “No,” she shook her head. “I’ll always be the girl that emails all the appropriate, emergency contact information to a trusted friend and then says a proper goodbye to her mother before she heads out of town. I guess that is just the cloth I’m cut out of. All I’m saying is…it would be kind of nice to have the guts to just take off sometimes, you know?”
Emily nodded as she helped Joanna slide the books onto the bookshelf beside Grant’s desk. “Why do you think he left?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Joanna shook her head. “Things have gotten pretty bad lately. I think he’s searching for something…happiness, peace of mind…I don’t know what exactly.”
“Whatever it is, I doubt he finds it in Venice,” Emily sighed. “Do you think something happened at basketball camp?”
“What if he never even went to camp?” Joanna shrugged.
The girls’ conversation dropped off when they heard the sound of their mother sobbing. They walked to the doorway and strained to listen. Given her blunt demeanor, they could tell that Nora was on the phone with her mother, venting all of her fears and frustrations to Granny Miller, who usually endured the brunt of Nora’s discontentment with Grant.
Emily sat on the edge of Grant’s bed and buried her face in her hands. “What have you done this time, Grant? Just come home…please,” she prayed.
Joanna watched Emily out of the corner of her eye as she listened to her mother voicing her concerns over the phone. Maybe, she considered, some people lacked the brazenness to escape their problems, but, maybe for Grant the true test was not having the courage to go but having the guts to stay and face whatever it was he seemed to be running from.
Joanna rushed into her apartment carrying a stack of papers in one hand and a cup of Starbucks in the other. She slid out of her shoes and dropped her purse onto the table. It had been a long, exhausting day at the office, and she was ready for a nice, relaxing shower. As she moved about the kitchen, eager for a quick snack, her cell phone rang. She reached into her pocket and answered it quickly. It was her boyfriend John, and hearing his voice instantly made her feel as though the night would be more kind to her than the day had been. Joanna and John had been together for a little over three years, but Joanna, who had a habit of focusing more on her career than her personal life, had yet to decide if their relationship was going anywhere.
“I was thinking I would come over and cook us some dinner,” John suggested.
“That sounds nice,” Joanna grinned happily.
She took a snack cake from the cabinet and walked toward her bedroom with her phone to her ear. She nudged her door open, prepared to fall out on her bed, but, when she found her bed occupied, she let out a startled shrill.
“Baby, what is it?” John exclaimed, panic evident in his voice. “Jo, are you okay?”
Joanna took a moment to catch her breath. “I’m fine,” she said evenly. She took a pillow from her bed and pounded it against Grant’s back. “I’m sorry, John. I thought it was an intruder, but it’s just my kid brother.” She glanced down at Grant. He was lying across her bed on his stomach, and he had barely acknowledged her when she walked in, screams and all. “Grant, is everything okay?” Joanna asked cautiously.
“May I stay here tonight?” Grant asked softly.
Joanna nodded slowly, caught off-guard by his request. “You know what, John,” she said into the phone, “can I get a rain check on dinner?”
“Are you going to cancel on me every time your insubordinate little brother burns down a gas station or conveniently decides to reappear after leaving your family worried sick for a week?” John scoffed.
“Don’t make me choose, John. You won’t like my choice,” Joanna replied with a firmness reminiscent of her courtroom voice.
“Well, Jo, that’s good to know,” John scoffed.
“Rain check?” Joanna gulped, trying to sound sweet and repentant.
John paused, and Joanna could sense his disappointment. “Yeah, of course,” he conceded. “We’ll do it some other time.”
“Did I ruin your night?” Grant sighed after Joanna hung up the phone.
Joanna sat down on her bed and rubbed her brother’s back. “Nah,” she smiled. “Not you…not ever. Now you just have to cook me dinner!”
