Page 29 of Mind Pucked

As I sweep the last few shards into the dustpan, I can’t help but think about what Amelia said. All she wanted was to help me. It’s clear I can’t even help myself.

Once the room is as clean as it’s going to get, but still smelling of beer, I sit down at my desk. I contemplate what I need to do first in order to help myself, and finally decide on calling the police station to ask for an update on my wife’s wreck.

It’s been a while since I’ve even called for an update, let alone showed any interest in what they might have found out lately.

I find my wallet, pull out the rather rumpled card of the detective on the case, and attempt to read the faded number. Once I’m sure I have it right, I push send and wait for an answer.

“Detective Humphry, how may I help you?”

“Uh, yes, this is Jackson Turner,” I say, searching for exactly what I need to say. “My wife was Lyla Turner. I was wondering if there have been any updates on her investigation or anything new about the wallet found on the scene?”

There’s dead silence on the other end, followed by a swallow as if the detective is thinking about what he’s going to say before he says it.

“Jackson,” he says, taking another breath, “we pronounced Preston dead months ago. There hasn’t been anything more regarding the whereabouts of his body, and I hate to inform you that we never truly found any connection between your wife and former teammate.”

“I see.” I pause for a moment. “So, what are the next steps going forward in the investigation?”

“So, how’s that little girl of yours?”

“Don’t distract me from the topic at hand,” I snap. “I just want to know where the investigation surrounding my wife’s death is going from here.”

“Jackson…” The detective pauses.

“No,” I say, already feeling like I know what he’s going to say.

“Jackson,” he says again. “I’m sorry, but the case is cold—there is no investigation.” His voice sounds like he regrets telling me.

“I see,” I say softly. “Thank you for taking my call,” I add before hanging up.

I feel so defeated and frustrated, and I think about losing it like I did last night. I feel the heat growing inside as I stand to my feet and clench my hands into fists. I’m seconds away from punching something when I hear a noise at the door.

“Dad-dee,” Hayden says as she rubs her eyes. “Will you make me some breakfast?”

I shake my hands out to unclench them as I pick her up in my arms.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go eat. What are you wanting for breakfast, baby?” I ask as I carry her to the kitchen.

7

AMELIA

Itry not to shake as I fix dinner for Hayden and her dad. My slight altercation with him last night was enough to send me home in tears yet again. I need to decide if I can handle this or not. I hate that there’s a little girl hanging in the balance—a little girl who already trusts me. Should I decide to leave, it will be Hayden who gets hurt the most.

My heart can’t handle that thought as I stir the food in the pan. I’m working on hot dogs will all the fixings per Hayden’s request.

I lean down and check on the sweet potato fries. They’re just about done. I’ve made sure to fix enough for Jackson should he want some, but he doesn’t always sit down and eat with us…not when he’s so busy with hockey and other things.

I set the food out on the table, making sure to put a plate out for all three of us. Jackson is at practice right now but will be home any minute.

I’ve decided that tonight I’ll leave the moment I get Hayden down to sleep. I don’t want to overstay my welcome or get yelledat like the last two nights. Well, technically I was only yelled at last night, but I was essentially treated like crap the night before.

As soon as Hayden and I begin to eat, I hear the back door opening. We both look up to see Jackson coming in.

“Dad-dee!” Hayden yells as she gets up and wraps her arm around her sweaty…and extremely shirtless father.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Jackson says as he pats her on the top of the head. “I have to go take a shower really quick.”

“I made enough for you,” I say from where I’m still seated at the table. “I mean, if you want to eat something after you shower…or before,” I stammer out, looking him up and down.

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