Chapter 52
The lights of Seattle flashed by, a misty blur of color and neon design, but Tessa saw it only from her peripheral vision. Strapped into the back seat of the Uber, she focused on her phone screen, tapping as fast as she could.
She almost collapsed with relief when Zack’s face appeared on the FaceTime screen.
He wore his favorite Dungeonmaster T-shirt, his version of a security blanket, and his wire-rimmed glasses sat crooked on his nose.
He was tired, she could tell, and his anxiety emanated from the laptop screen as if it had pixels of its own.
But he wasn’t hurt or kidnapped or dead.
“Are you okay, honey? I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your text, but I couldn’t.
And I figured if anything was wrong at home, your father would—where is he, honey, is he home now?
” She tried to keep her voice even. No reason to scare him even more.
“Did he tell you he was… going out? Are you two alone? Where’s Linny? ”
She had no idea how to phrase these questions, this was new territory, and angry and concerned as she was, she did not want to telegraph that to her son.
“I’m okay,” he said. “The kitchen floor is kind of screwed up. Sorry, Mom. I just, like, turned it off and I put towels.”
“And you’re fine? And Linny? She’s fine? I don’t care about the dishwasher, we can get that fixed. You did exactly the right thing.”
“Okay. It was scary though, it made a noise.”
“They’ll do that.” The hotel was nearby, but she had a few minutes. “Sounds like you handled it beautifully. Thank you.”
“It’s okay, now, I think, But I didn’t break it, I promise.”
“Oh, honey, I know. So, your dad, sweetheart. Ah, is he okay, too?” Tessa tried to tamp down her rage, her blazing anger that her husband would leave their two children alone at this hour of the night.
Or any time. He knew how she felt about that.
Never leave the kids alone , how many times had she said that?
The only conceivable explanation was that something was wrong.
“He said he had to go out, and that we should go to sleep, and he would come make sure we were okay. And so we did. Linny was asleep, I guess, but I was kind of reading, and that’s when I heard the clunk, and I had to come downstairs and see what it was.
Luckily, Mom, because it was totally gushing. ”
“Out? Where? Did you call your dad? Or text?”
“I did, but no answer. He might have it on silent.”
Tessa’s entire head exploded, so violently that she was surprised Zack didn’t notice. If he weren’t already dead, she would kill him. Kill Henry. What a total idiot. She took a deep breath. Zack did not need to see her upset. He needed reassurance.
“Well, you fixed it, you’re the best, and we can FaceTime till your dad gets home, okay? Hang on, let me get out of the car. Look. Here’s my hotel, I’m in Seattle. How many miles away do you think that is?”
“Mom, I’m not a little kid. I’m fine.”
“I know sweetheart, but here, look.” She turned the phone, and showed him the glittering facade of the hotel, water fountains reaching two stories, illuminated by dancing lights in shades of red and purple.
“Isn’t that cool? I only get to stay in these places for one night at a time.
I’ll show you the inside now. Ready for the cool lobby? ”
“I don’t need to see the hotel, Mom,” Zack said. “I’m really, really tired, can I just leave the FaceTime on and go to sleep?”
“Sure, honey.” Poor little kid, just trying to be good. “Listen, one more thing, though.” She paused, calculating how to get her son to rat out his own father. “Who picked the yellow color for the kitchen? It’s so pretty,” she lied.
“The kitchen?” Zack blinked at her, obviously trying to stay awake. “Oh, I guess Mrs. Delaney, she does stuff like that. I guess. She came over to help paint, too. We all helped. Even Tris.”
“Mrs. Delaney. How nice.” Tessa imagined her own Pinocchio nose extending to infinity.
“And did you get a dog yet? Was Barbara—what’s her last name, anyway, do you know?
—working on that?” She paused. Zackie was exhausted.
“Honey? Do you have any idea where your father is? And when he’s coming back? ”
Zack pushed his glasses back up on his nose, a gesture so familiar it almost broke Tessa’s heart.
She was talking to her nine-year-old, in the middle of the night, three thousand miles away, on freaking FaceTime, and the fancy Swedish dishwasher was already broken and their new kitchen flooded and her husband was “out.”
“If Dad tells me not to tell you something, do I have to tell you? Like if Dad says it’s a secret, is it a secret from you, too?”