Dear Pollyanna, it’s ok love followed by her dad’s familiar scrawl.

Wanting to understand, Mary turned the notepad sheet in her hands. Moll was searching for food in her dad’s fridge while Chet checked upstairs. The old notepad was her late mother’s, a photo of the twins as toddlers and alphabet blocks bordered the lined page. Again, Mary checked her online calendar.

“Nothing up here Mom,” Chet yelled from the top of the stairs.

Dear Pollyanna, she thought. Mary couldn’t understand. Pollyanna was Dad’s nickname for her, from the old Haley Mills film. Mom had gotten forgetful at the end, but mentally Dad was still sharp as a tack. Except for his poor eyesight, his health was good.

Dad said he’d needed a ride to his attorney, old Mr. Howard. The attorney had set up dad’s estate already. Mary couldn’t believe the old coot was still kicking. He’d seemed ancient when she was a girl. Dad had been particular about the time despite her having to pickup the twins from band practice. It just wasn’t like her father to miss an appointment.

“Maybe Gramps caught an Uber,” Moll said around a mouthful of chocolate pudding.

“Grandpa doesn’t ridesgar. Watch grandma’s carpets,” Mary said without looking up from her phone.

“Grandma’s dead and gone,” Moll muttered and wandered off.

What’s okay? She mused. Mary called the attorney’s office. After some back and forth, the secretary explained Mr. Howard senior had retired three years back and no there was no appointments scheduled today. Chet came downstairs.

“No note, no nothing. I never knew Grandpa was such a neat freak. Bed made. All of Grandma’s stuff put away. Maybe he’s planning a trip or something,” Chet said.

Chet paced around the living room. Patting his arm, Mary looked at the note again. Dad had been upset with her about taking away his car keys, but she thought he had gotten past it. Maybe Dad was angry, Mary thought.

“Don’t worry honey. Grandpa wouldn’t go away without telling us. Besides where would he go?”

Moll returned with a soda. Dad kept snacks and extra supplies in the garage fridge. Dad liked to be prepared for every contingency. Glaring, Mary looked for Dad’s neighbor’s phone number in her contacts.

“Well he went somewhere. His car is gone. Can we get McDonald’s on the way home? I’m starving,” Moll said flopping on the sofa.

“What?”

Mary froze. The note fell to the ground. She gasped, understanding.

“Car. Gone. Me. Hungry,” Moll said. “Duh.”

Moll drank. Chet looked at the horror in Mary’s face and hurried out to the garage.