Chapter 5 - Ava’s Passport Disappeared Before The Retreat
The passport had been issued when Ava was three months old.
Mark’s sister was getting married in Vancouver the following spring, and we wanted all the paperwork handled early.
After it arrived, I put it inside a zippered family-document case in our bedroom safe.
Two weeks before Santa Barbara, the passport disappeared.
My passport was still there.
Mark’s was still there.
Ava’s birth certificate was still there.
Only Ava’s passport was missing.
I panicked.
Mark thought we might have moved it while collecting medical paperwork.
Mom immediately offered another explanation.
“You’ve been forgetting things lately.”
The sentence hit harder than it should have.
“I didn’t move it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I keep passports in one place.”
Helen put her hands up.
“I’m not criticizing you.”
“You are.”
“I’m saying you have a lot going on.”
We searched for three days.
Nothing.
I called the State Department to ask about reporting it missing but hesitated because Mark thought we should search once more before invalidating a brand-new passport.
Mom strongly agreed.
“Don’t create another bureaucratic mess because it’s probably in the house.”
At the time, that sounded sensible.
Later I realized why she wanted us to delay.
A reported lost passport becomes useless.
She needed it valid.
At Santa Barbara, I mentioned the missing passport to Marianne during an unrelated security conversation.
Her reaction was immediate.
“Who has access to your home safe?”
“Mark and me.”
Then I hesitated.
“Mom knows the code.”
Marianne asked:
“Why?”
“She used it once to get my insurance card when I was recovering.”
“Did you change the code afterward?”
No.
I suddenly felt stupid.
Marianne didn’t call me stupid.
She simply said:
“Change it when you get home.”
Then she asked whether I had noticed Helen carrying unusual bags or belongings.
I said no.
May you like
At that point, Mom’s body looked normal.
The unusually large abdomen appeared only two days later.
