Page 32 of Defending What is Mine

Me: If it helps, I’m making pancakes.

Me: With banana and chocolate chips.

Barely ten seconds after I hit send, my phone buzzes in my hand.

Mollie: Hank says if there’s enough for him too, we can be there in half an hour. J/K

Mollie: You want us to bring you back here?

Me: I was really hoping to sneak over to the park so Nessa could sled in the fresh snow.

Me: Tell Hank I’ll make him all the pancakes he can eat if he’s up for it.

I smile for Mollie as I set my phone down and return my attention to the pancakes. Happy to know she’s finally found a man deserving of all she has to offer. Although my smile fades when I think of my own situation. I can’t help but wonder if all the time and energy spent believing Jack was going to be that for me was just foolishness.

Please contact me, big guy. Soon. I really need to know you’re okay.

* * *

Hank looks at Mollie with desperation. “Come on, Mol. I’ll be careful with you. You’ll love it. I promise,” he pleads. “This run is super fun, isn’t it, Girlie?”

Vanessa nods eagerly while Mollie turns to me, as if seeking my permission. Why do you need my permission?Can I not be trusted alone with my thoughts? Or, is it the idea of leaving me at the top of the hill while everyone else frolics in the snow? Whatever the reason, the truth of my reality is simple—fun just isn’t an option for me. Not right now. Not without knowing. Please, Jack. Call. “You all go on, have fun. This is why we dragged you out in the first place.” I shoo at the three of them with both mittens. “Go on.”

Mollie smiles but looks back with uncertainty one more time as she climbs onto the sled and wraps her arms around Hank’s waist.

I wave my hand again. “Go. Have fun.”

I chuckle to myself as I watch Hank trying to maneuver the sled down the hill like he’s running an Olympic slalom course. He really is the biggest kid out here. Vanessa giggles and begs to go again before they’ve even come to a stop and once she climbs off, she immediately turns back and waves wildly, no doubt checking that I didn’t miss how awesome that run was. If ever there was a balm for the steady hum of Jack-flavored anxiety vibrating through my bones, it’s my daughter’s smile.

As the three of them begin their ascent up the hill for the twentieth-ish time, I notice the beauty of the playground behind them in the distance, standing frozen and still amidst the chaos of children screaming and cheering each other on. My mind flits to a memory of a day last August when Jack came with us. How he and I sat and talked and got lost in one another while Nessa swung and played. God, how I miss him.

Desperate for contact, I pull off my mitten and dig in my pocket for my phone. If I can’t have him, I’ll take what I can get. His words. I open my email and slowly swipe through old messages from Jack. I laugh at a couple, and feel tears begin to well at a couple, but stop when my thumb reaches the last message he sent. I skim through the beginning (words I could recite by heart) to get to the end—words I can also recite, though they intensify the sense of dread growing in my gut.

It isn’t too bad here, all things considered. Lots of down time, which can be good or bad, I guess. Depending what you do with it. For me, I used to spend it buried in a book, but if I’m being honest, recently I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Maybe even soul searching. And I’ve come to a decision. Something I’d like to talk with you about. I don’t mean to sound ominous, but it’s really not a topic meant for email, if you know what I mean.

All my love,

Jacques

P.S. You know how much I hate that name. I only sign off that way because you say it makes you smile.

For the hundredth (okay thousandth) time, I wonder at his word choice. Ominous? What does he mean by ominous? He signed it with ‘all my love’ and said he likes to make me smile, but maybe he’s just trying to make me feel better before he breaks my heart…

I need him to make contact. With each passing minute, I’m more and more certain that something is wrong. Something terrible. Something awful. Something…

…ominous.

I wipe away a tear before it has the chance to form. I know if I don’t, if I allow it to fall, they all will. And this is neither the time, nor the place, for that.

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