Page 49 of Fake-Off with Fate
“Hi, Dad.”
“How’s everything going down at Town Hall?” he asks. “Is anyone missing me yet?”
I don’t want him worrying about Maple Falls on top of facing the real danger that’s coming his way, so I tell him, “Everything is great. Don’t you worry.”
“As much as I hate to admit this,” he says, “I’ve really enjoyed this break. Thank you for coming home and lending a hand.”
“Any idea how long you’ll need me here?” I know he can’t answer this with any authority, but I’m still hoping he lies and tells me only a few more days.
Instead of offering the lifeline I’m looking for, he answers, “Could be weeks. It’s hard to say.”
“If it’s weeks,” I tell him, “I’m going to have to let people know you’re not here.”
“Don’t say anything until we know for sure. No sense upsetting folks.” If he only knew how upset they already are, and why.
“Dad, I asked Mom to get you to record a few things that I might be able to use if I need to fool someone into thinking you’re in the office. Did she ever tell you that?”
“She said something, but we got a little sidetracked.” He’sclearly talking to my mom when he adds, “Isn’t that right, dear?”
First of all, yay. I’m glad my parents are getting along, and their marriage is seemingly back on track, but also,ew. That is not an innuendo any kid wants to hear regarding their parents’ relationship.
“When we hang up,” I tell him, “call back and leave the following on my voicemail.” I recite several lines that might come in handy.
My dad seems to take them all in stride except for the last one. “You can’t really want me to say that. What could you possibly need that for?”
“It’s just a little prank, Dad. Don’t worry about it.”
“My telling Phillip he’s fired is a prank? That seems mean-spirited.”
“Not at all.” Lying through my teeth, I tell him, “We’re actually getting along great. We tease each other all the time.”
Our connection goes fuzzy for a moment. When it clears again, my dad says, “I’d better call you back and leave that voicemail now. I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to call out.” He pauses a beat before adding, “I love you, honey.”
“I love you, too, Dad.” Tears fill my eyes and for the first time, I worry that real harm might come to my parents.
In the background, my mom shouts, “I love you!” Then the line goes dead. I sit at my dad’s desk for several minutes hoping they’ll call back, but they don’t.
There’s only one person I want to talk to right now. Without stopping to consider why, I call him.
“You realize that we talk on the phone more than any other people our age, don’t you?”
“Jamie …” I can’t seem to say anything else. Instead, I burst into tears.
“Ashlyn, what’s wrong?” His concern is immediate.
“It’s my … they’re in … it’s so bad.”
He takes my stilted communication to mean that I need help. “Where are you?”
“Town Hall,” I tell him.
“I’m on my way,” he says. “Should I call an ambulance? The police?”
I love how ready he is to jump into action. It comforts me enough to gain composure and tell him, “It’s not me. It’s my parents. Hurricane Bartholomew is heading right for them. Their flight got canceled and they have to ride it out.”
“Oh, Ashlyn.” His voice is warm and soothing. “I’m sorry. How about if I come over to your house and we can watch the news together? I can pick up fish and chips from Shirley May’s.”
Looking at the clock, I see that it’s nearly six. Where in the world did the day go? “That would be great, thank you. I’m at the office, but I’ll be home in twenty minutes or so.”
