Searching for Yesterday by Valerie Sherrard Page B

going back to school,” Annie said. “Was that what she was going to take?”

    â€œThat ... or some kind of business course. She was hoping to open up her own place at some point in time. I can’t quite remember which course she was planning to take first.”
    â€œAnd then she left,” Annie said flatly.
    â€œThen she left,” Gina agreed. “And I guess that all went down the drain. But you never know. She might have pursued it somewhere else. I don’t know how you’d find out, though. I’m sure you’ve tried internet searches with your mom’s name.”
    â€œLots of times,” Annie said. “But I was never looking specifically for anything to do with a bakery or whatever. It’s worth a try.”
    â€œWell, I don’t know what to say to you, exactly. Good luck, that’s for sure. I wish I could help somehow.”
    â€œYou’ve helped a lot,” Annie said. She sounded sincere, and I know she meant it, but it really didn’t seem that Kayla had been much help. I thought that, aside from a few background details about Gina’s life, she hadn’t been able to tell us much.
    Later, when the significance of something she’d told us hit me, I felt more than a little foolish.

C HAPTER F OURTEEN
    â€œI saw Betts earlier this evening.”
    Greg was at my place. He’d come over after work and we were enjoying the fact that, with school still out for a few more days, we could stay up as late as we wanted on a weeknight. He’d brought a movie along, an old one called
Dead Poets Society
, which his father had loaned us from his personal collection.
    â€œOh, yeah? Where’d you see her?” I asked, looking up at his face from where my head was resting against his chest.
    â€œAt work.”
    I pulled away a little, enough that I could look straight into his eyes. “At the gas bar?”
    â€œMmm hmm.”
    â€œWhat, did she stop by on her way somewhere or what?” I couldn’t picture where she’d have been going to be walking by Broderick’s, the gas station where Gregworked part-time.
    â€œYou could say that,” he answered. “She wasn’t on foot.”
    â€œOh. Was she with her folks?”
    â€œNo. She was with some guy.”
    â€œKruel!” I said, sitting straight up.
    â€œ
Who
?”
    I told him about the conversation I’d had with Betts that morning. I don’t suppose I should have — I’m sure she wouldn’t have wanted me to tell anyone, not even Greg, but with an opening like that, and the way it was weighing on me, I just couldn’t help it.
    Greg looked pretty grim when I’d finished. “This isn’t good,” he said.
    â€œI know that,” I told him. “But I can’t stop her if she’s determined to go out with this guy.”
    â€œNo, there’s more than that to it,” he said. “I could smell booze on him when he paid for his gas.”
    My stomach clenched into a hard, cold knot as I thought of Betts driving around with someone who’d been drinking.
    â€œAre you sure?” I asked, but I knew Greg would never say something like that unless he was certain.
    He nodded and reached for the clickers, shutting off the TV and DVD player. “How old did you say you thought he was?”
    â€œAround twenty-four is my best guess. He could be a year or two either way.”

    â€œThat’s bad enough by itself,” Greg said. “But no matter how old he is, Betts knows better than to be in a dangerous situation like that.”
    My throat was tight and I knew I was on the verge of tears. Not wanting to look pathetic in front of Greg, I turned away. Thoughts of a program they’d run at school back when we were in the middle grades came to me, complete with images of kids in wheelchairs and long-term care beds — kids who had taken the same kind of chance Betts was taking right then.