Things We Didn't Say - By Kristina Riggle Page 0,16
him at all. They all assumed he was home sick today. I also called the friends from his old school. Nothing. And for some reason, Jacob isn’t talking to him anymore at all.”
Mallory had stopped in the center of the room, but she resumed pacing. “Something terrible has happened. I know it. I know it in my heart.”
Casey’s cell phone buzzes, and we all stop to stare at her while she looks at the screen. She shakes her head and puts her phone back away without answering.
“What could have happened?” I mutter.
“How could you lose him!” Mallory shouts, and I’ve started to defend myself when I notice she’s shouting at Casey.
“Hey, I’m the one who drove him to school. And I’m telling you, he walked right in the building.”
“But something is going on, isn’t it? You live with him every day. Don’t you know what’s on his mind?”
I step between them as Casey hugs her sweater around herself, shrinking against the archway to the kitchen. “If anyone would know, it would be me. Don’t put this on her.” I put my arm around Casey’s shoulders. Her body feels tight and hard, like wire on a spool.
Mallory tosses her head. “Of course, I guess I shouldn’t expect that of your girlfriend. It’s not like she knows anything about raising kids.”
Casey shouts from the archway, shrugging off my arm, “You’re his mother, and you don’t know!”
“He doesn’t live with me every day. I’m only allowed to have him two weekends a month.” Mallory turns away, her voice cracking over the words. “I can’t believe this girl is allowed to see my son more than I am.”
I want to yell that she agreed to that, and in fact if she hadn’t pulled that stunt with Jewel in the car she would probably still have custody. And that this girl is the one holding her kids’ hair back when they vomit in the middle of the night.
But the house phone rings, and I run across the room to seize it.
“Angel, honey, calm down.”
“They’re all saying Dylan is missing, that he’s dead or something.”
It’s 2:40. She’s between school and play practice. I can hear the chaos of kids shouting to be heard in the halls, lockers slammed.
“Who’s saying such crazy things?”
“The kids. His old band friends. They say no one can find him, and Casey said he didn’t show up to class, and—”
“They’re just kids passing hysterical rumors. Casey was calling the band kids to see if anyone had seen him, or if one of his friends was also skipping school.”
“He won’t answer his phone.”
“I know, we’ve been trying, too. Has he said anything to you lately? Anything that might help us?”
“I want to come home.”
“Are you sure, sweetie? I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. All there is to do here is sit around and worry.”
Mallory has appeared at my elbow. “Of course she can come home if she wants.” She grabs for the phone, and I shrug her off.
“Mom’s there?”
“Yeah, she’s worried, too.”
“And you’re home from work. I wanna come, too. I don’t want to listen to all these kids talk about Dylan.”
“Okay. Meet me by the auditorium then. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hang up and pull my coat back on.
“I could go get her,” Casey quickly offers.
Mallory, hand on hip, interjects, “She wants her parents right now.”
Mallory can’t get her because she doesn’t have a license anymore. She must have taken a cab to the house.
“I’ll be back soon.” I cast a look at Casey. She seems washed out and wan. I give her a small smile, the same “chin up” look Kate gave me at the office.
I start up my car again and think of Dylan, only his face in my mind’s eye has regressed from a teenager to the mop-haired boy honking notes into his first saxophone, to the first-grader missing a tooth, to the chubby toddler covered in spaghetti.
I press down hard on the gas, wondering if it’s time to call the police.
Chapter 5
Casey
Mallory perches on the barstool at the kitchen counter, drumming her nails, which are broken, jagged.
“How can you wash dishes at a time like this?” she asks.
“We’re just waiting. The dishes are dirty.”
She doesn’t have to be on top of me. She has a whole house to hang out in. I’m under surveillance.
She points at the cupboard above and to my right. “That’s a better place to keep the glasses. Close to the sink.”