a part of him I didn't see enough. He was goofy, but he also didn't take teasing laying down. He loved machines and technology, but not to the extent that it replaced all else. He'd offered to purchase an ereader for me so I wouldn't have to wait for book deliveries, but he'd done so with such a grimace, I'd taken pity on him. I didn't mind the concept of reading my books off a screen, but he clearly did.
He made the necessary clicks on his computer and then angled the screen so I could see it clearly.
Jazz's arm was a comforting warmth. "Do you want to read them alone?" he asked. "It's your choice."
I knew that now. That I had choices and that I could make them. I might not have been really great at it yet, but I would get better. I didn't want Jazz going anywhere. The connection I'd felt to him that first day had only grown. It wasn't insistent or driving, like how I felt about Faust. Jazz was more like a warm blanket on a blustery autumn day, comforting in a classic, stress-free way.
I leaned in, repeating the shoulder bump movement. "I don't want to read them alone."
"There are quite a few calls. You can skip through to only your aunt's or—"
How could I pass a chance like this up? It was as close as I would get to attending my own funeral, and I was insanely curious about what people had called in to say. "I want to read them all."
Faust sighed like that was exactly what he expected me to say.
I didn't see him, but I really hope you find the kid. He looks nice.
That boy looks a lot like my neighbor's cousin's boy. Are you sure his name isn't Tony Plucher?
I could tell the moment I saw his picture that he was special. If you find him, give him my number…
Faust somehow knew once my eyes had landed on that response because he not-so-subtly growled.
Jazz snickered. "You've got a grunter too, huh?"
I nodded, enjoying the back and forth. "Oh yes. He can grunt very loudly."
Jazz burst out laughing. His face turned the same color as his hair, and his eyes began to water.
"What?" I craned my head up to see into Faust's face. "Did I say something bad?"
Faust grinned. "Not at all."
I turned back to the screen. We were nearly at the end of the transcribed calls. There had been nice calls from people who sounded simply bereft at my disappearance. Though the nice feelings were lessened when I thought about how those people didn't know who I was. They'd never met me, and their responses seemed too intense to be simple human kindness and compassion.
And there had been some incredibly inappropriate calls. Those had made Faust pace a little faster behind me. Mixed among those calls was a woman who called every day at eleven in the morning. She left messages so long, the voicemail system often cut her off midword. Her calls varied, some recalling moments she'd experienced with my mom—I didn't remember them, but they were from before I was born. Other times she just restated her name, her address, and phone number. She lived in southern California, not even a state away, but far enough it may have explained why I hadn't met the woman while my mother had been alive.
At the end of them, I didn't know what to think. She may have been who she claimed. But if she was, I didn't know how I felt about that either.
"Whoa. That was surreal." Jazz leaned away from the table. True to his word, he'd stuck by me the whole time, reading each message. "I'm not sure I believe her, but then, I don't know if any of the details she mentioned were true."
I shrugged, while my face grew hot. "I don't know either. My mom didn't talk about her a lot other than to mention her existence. I sort of got the idea something bad had happened between them. My mother was a solitary person outside of her relationship with me." I didn't want to make her sound like a hermit living in a cave on the side of a mountain, but she'd never had friends over. I didn't know if she had friends at all. Mr. Grouse hadn't been her friend; he'd attached to me at school, and his help hadn't spilled into my home life until after she'd been admitted into the hospital.
"We don't