let this happen?"
"We were letting her grieve, Trudy."
"For over two years?" Mom slams the book shut and throws it into the drawer. "We weren't letting her grieve; we just didn't know what to do with her."
She stands up and straightens her skirt.
"We've done the best we can."
"Have we?" Approaching my father with soft steps, she looks at him with broken eyes and whispers, "Is this really our best, Mitchell?"
Before he can reply, she walks out the door. Dad turns to watch her leave.
"Trudy."
I hear her descending the stairs, ignoring his pathetic pleas.
He lets out a long sigh and runs his hands through his hair. Pinching his nose, he curses.
"Follow her, Dad." I walk towards him. "Please. She wants you to follow her."
Letting out an irritated huff, he thumps the wall and follows her. Mom is fluffing around the kitchen, noisily making a cup of tea.
"Jody's death was hard on all of us. We've all been trying to find our way, Trudy."
"On our own." She pauses to look at him "How was that ever going to work?" She pours boiling water on her teabag and lets it steep. "We might as well face it, if Nicole's gone, we should just end it now."
Dad stands up straight. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on, Mitchell. We've only stayed together for her."
Loosening his tie, Dad pulls it off and shakes his head. I can see him struggling to rein in his emotions, but he manages an even voice when he responds. "Not me. I'd never leave you."
"You left me the day Jody died."
"I stayed." Dad throws his tie on the counter, his voice breaking. "You just stopped letting me in."
Mom lifts the teabag out of her cup and throws it in the sink.
Leaning against the cold metal, she drops her head and whispers, "I don't know us anymore. I don't even know my own daughter." Turning, she looks at Dad, her eyes awash with tears. "Don't you see? With her gone, we have nothing left."
Dad's face turns to charcoal as he grabs his tie and storms out of the room.
"Dad, don't go!" I call after him. "This is why you have nothing left." I race after him and find him scrambling for his keys. "Where are you going?"
He can't hear me and nearly walks straight through me as he makes his way to the front door, avoiding the kitchen altogether.
The front door slams behind me. I stay close to Dad so I can make it into the car before he slams yet another door. He fires up the engine and screams out of the driveway.
"Where are you going?"
It only takes ten minutes at the speed he's traveling and we're very soon sitting in Sheriff Hutton's driveway. Dad slams out of the car and walks to the front door.
The porch light comes on and Sheriff Hutton opens the door with a frown.
"Mitchell? What are you doing here?"
"Sorry for the lateness, Gerry, I just need to talk to you."
"Okay." The Sheriff opens the door a little wider. "What's the problem?"
"It's Nicole." Dad turns with a sigh.
The Sheriff's eyes narrow.
"What's she been up to now?"
My Dad frowns. "What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, Mitch, we both know she hangs out with the party kids."
"Yeah." Dad nods. "Yeah, I guess she does." He dips his head then looks up like a lost kid. Are those tears in his eyes?
"We can't find her. She didn't come home last night and none of her friends have seen her."
"Have you called her?"
"Several times. It just keeps going to voice mail."
The sheriff's dark eyes glitter. "I hate Caller ID sometimes. You can't surprise people anymore."
My Dad nods stupidly, it's obvious he's only now considering the prospect that I may have been dodging their calls. I'd love to tell him I've never done that, but it's not true. I actually have d esignated ringtones for them...it saves me having to look for my phone when I don't want to talk to them. I flush with guilt.
The Sheriff puts his hands in his pockets as he studies my forlorn father.
"You think she's run away?"
"I don' t know." Dad shrugs. "I just...what if she hasn't. What if something bad's happened to her?"
"Yes!
"We were letting her grieve, Trudy."
"For over two years?" Mom slams the book shut and throws it into the drawer. "We weren't letting her grieve; we just didn't know what to do with her."
She stands up and straightens her skirt.
"We've done the best we can."
"Have we?" Approaching my father with soft steps, she looks at him with broken eyes and whispers, "Is this really our best, Mitchell?"
Before he can reply, she walks out the door. Dad turns to watch her leave.
"Trudy."
I hear her descending the stairs, ignoring his pathetic pleas.
He lets out a long sigh and runs his hands through his hair. Pinching his nose, he curses.
"Follow her, Dad." I walk towards him. "Please. She wants you to follow her."
Letting out an irritated huff, he thumps the wall and follows her. Mom is fluffing around the kitchen, noisily making a cup of tea.
"Jody's death was hard on all of us. We've all been trying to find our way, Trudy."
"On our own." She pauses to look at him "How was that ever going to work?" She pours boiling water on her teabag and lets it steep. "We might as well face it, if Nicole's gone, we should just end it now."
Dad stands up straight. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on, Mitchell. We've only stayed together for her."
Loosening his tie, Dad pulls it off and shakes his head. I can see him struggling to rein in his emotions, but he manages an even voice when he responds. "Not me. I'd never leave you."
"You left me the day Jody died."
"I stayed." Dad throws his tie on the counter, his voice breaking. "You just stopped letting me in."
Mom lifts the teabag out of her cup and throws it in the sink.
Leaning against the cold metal, she drops her head and whispers, "I don't know us anymore. I don't even know my own daughter." Turning, she looks at Dad, her eyes awash with tears. "Don't you see? With her gone, we have nothing left."
Dad's face turns to charcoal as he grabs his tie and storms out of the room.
"Dad, don't go!" I call after him. "This is why you have nothing left." I race after him and find him scrambling for his keys. "Where are you going?"
He can't hear me and nearly walks straight through me as he makes his way to the front door, avoiding the kitchen altogether.
The front door slams behind me. I stay close to Dad so I can make it into the car before he slams yet another door. He fires up the engine and screams out of the driveway.
"Where are you going?"
It only takes ten minutes at the speed he's traveling and we're very soon sitting in Sheriff Hutton's driveway. Dad slams out of the car and walks to the front door.
The porch light comes on and Sheriff Hutton opens the door with a frown.
"Mitchell? What are you doing here?"
"Sorry for the lateness, Gerry, I just need to talk to you."
"Okay." The Sheriff opens the door a little wider. "What's the problem?"
"It's Nicole." Dad turns with a sigh.
The Sheriff's eyes narrow.
"What's she been up to now?"
My Dad frowns. "What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, Mitch, we both know she hangs out with the party kids."
"Yeah." Dad nods. "Yeah, I guess she does." He dips his head then looks up like a lost kid. Are those tears in his eyes?
"We can't find her. She didn't come home last night and none of her friends have seen her."
"Have you called her?"
"Several times. It just keeps going to voice mail."
The sheriff's dark eyes glitter. "I hate Caller ID sometimes. You can't surprise people anymore."
My Dad nods stupidly, it's obvious he's only now considering the prospect that I may have been dodging their calls. I'd love to tell him I've never done that, but it's not true. I actually have d esignated ringtones for them...it saves me having to look for my phone when I don't want to talk to them. I flush with guilt.
The Sheriff puts his hands in his pockets as he studies my forlorn father.
"You think she's run away?"
"I don' t know." Dad shrugs. "I just...what if she hasn't. What if something bad's happened to her?"
"Yes!
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