Page 65 of The Art of Us

Ireland’s phone rang. She looked at it, expecting Kal’s name and number on the display screen. It was Humboldt Correctional Facility. It buzzed once more while she stared at it. A third time. Her finger swiped up and she answered.

“This call is from Humboldt County Correctional Facility and is subject to monitoring and recording. Do you accept the charges?”

Would she accept the charges? No. Yes?

She had money in the bank. Not a lot, but enough.

“Yes,” she said, surprised that her voice box worked.

“Hello? Hello?” Her dad’s voice sounded far away. But hadn’t he always been far away?

“Hi, Dad.”

“Ireland. How are you? How’s ... school?”

Had he ever in her life asked her about school? She glanced at the clock on the oven. If he’d been paying attention, he would have realized that she still should have been in class. That thought made her mad. “What do you want, Dad?”

He stammered. She could picture him raking his fingers through his hair—dark brown like hers. She could see him licking his lips. That was his tell when he was formulating a lie.

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

“I don’t have money to give you.” He needed that information right up front. It would keep him from making promises he wouldn’t keep if he knew she had nothing worth him bargaining over.

“I’m not asking for money.”

“So what do you want?”

“There’s no agenda. I just wanted to hear your voice and to say ... to say I’m sorry. For leaving like I did. That was not my best moment.”

Ireland blew out a breath and tossed the rag she’d been holding into the sink. “Definitely not your best. But hey, in the grand scheme of things, itisyour typical moment.”

“I deserve that.”

“Not even close to what you deserve, Dad.”

“Are you safe?”

The question made her breath hitch. It was the concerned kind of question a parent should ask a child. “I amnow.”

She heard his breath catch too. Her comment had hit its mark. She wanted him to know that she hadn’t been safe.

“I’m staying with a girl from school and her family,” she added.Not because he deserved to know, but because she couldn’t stop herself.

“Good. Good. I’m probably going to be here for a while. The lawyer did a good job though. He pled me down to a year.”

“What did you do?”

“Online romance con.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Ireland slumped against the kitchen counter in disbelief.

“What? I’m still attractive enough to make that viable.”

“I’m not questioning your looks, Dad. Your moral compass is seriously broken.”

“Yeah. I know. But hey ... I only have another minute. Would you be willing to come see me sometime?”

Ireland pressed her palm against her eye to relieve the pressure building there. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not promising anything.”

---