potentially make her clam up even more, especially after her earlier outburst.
Instead, I needed to do the one thing I’d been putting off.
I went in the backyard and lit a cigarette before swiping through the contacts on my cell phone.
There he was. Kent Fisher. Sarah’s dad, one of the first guys to break my heart in a million pieces. I had his home and work numbers as well, but I wanted to send him a text. If I tried his home phone, I was just as likely to talk to his wife or one of his other kids, and I wasn’t in the mood to have that awkward exchange. I drew cigarette smoke deep into my lungs before tapping out a message. This is Randi. We need to talk whenever you have a chance.
Deep down, I hoped he wouldn’t respond until later—which was stupid, because I really needed to get the ball rolling—but it was almost immediate. Instead of texting back, he called.
“What’s going on, Randi? Is Sarah okay?
“It’s kind of a long story. Do you have time?”
“Yeah.” I could hear a lot of noise in the background that stopped quickly, telling me he’d stepped in his office and closed the door. “What’s up?”
Rather than pussyfoot around the subject, I laid it all on the line, telling him about yesterday in possibly excruciating detail—but I didn’t want to be accused of not keeping him apprised of what was happening with his daughter. Before he could ask me any questions, I followed it up by asking him one of my own. “Did she seem strange to you this summer?”
“Yeah, actually. She was pretty subdued and quieter than usual. I just thought she was acting funny because, well, you know...”
“Because she’s starting to change a little. That’s what I thought at first, too. But her behavior is worrisome. What was she doing over the summer that set off your alarm bells?”
“It was just little things. I mean, she was quiet, but… Well, in years past, the two of us would go to the movies together about once a month or do something else, like fishing or roller skating. But usually it was the movies, something without Ann and the kids and, until now, she’d always seemed to enjoy it. But this last summer, every time I’d suggest that just the two of us do something, she’d insist that Jack and Amanda come along, too, saying it ‘wasn’t fair to them.’ And I could see her point, but it was strange. Even Ann found it weird.”
“So is that it?”
“No. There were lots of little things she did, like staying in her room a lot more all by herself, sleeping a lot later. But I still thought maybe it was just a puberty thing. It was kind of sad, I guess—she seemed to never want to do anything with me. Alone, that is.”
“Just you?”
“Yeah. She’d do stuff with Ann and the kids all the time. She just didn’t want to be alone with me.”
“That is strange. What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. I just chalked it up to tween behavior. What are you thinking?”
“I have no clue. The counselor at the school suggested I get her into therapy.”
“Like a psychologist?”
“Yeah. That’s part of why I was calling. I need to find someone who’s in your insurance network.”
“I can text you the website.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
“I think if you stay in network, it’s just a copay.” After a brief pause, he asked, “Do you need help covering that?”
“No, I, um, I think I can handle that.” The man already paid child support. Asking him for more would have felt rude.
“What else can I help with?”
“I can’t think of anything at the moment. Thanks. I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”
“Look…I know we’re not the best of friends anymore, but Sarah is important to both of us. I want you to know I’ll do whatever it is you need me to.” He sighed so loudly, I could hear it through the phone. “Damn. I wish I was closer.”
For the first time ever, I agreed. “Me, too. Thanks a lot, Kent. Just knowing that helps. Really.”
“Keep me posted, okay?”
“Yes, absolutely. Thanks again.”
When I hung up the phone, my hands had stopped shaking and the tightness I’d felt in my chest had eased off—but I wanted another cigarette. Although I had more calls to make, the hardest one was now behind me.
And it hadn’t been nearly as difficult as I’d expected.
* * *
As I