Chapter 10 #2
I don’t answer his question straight away, mulling it over. “I mean, we can ask. I don’t think that’s really their area, but they may know someone who can do it.” We both startle as the sound of my phone vibrating echoes, cutting off our deliberation.
My shoulders drop with disappointment when I see it’s my dad, not Mia; she told us she was leaving and wouldn’t be able to contact us so it’s not like I actually believed it would be her. Still, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
I roll my eyes as I read Dad’s contact name, DD, and swipe the screen to accept the call. It’s something I came up with as a kid, too old to call my dads ‘daddy’ but young enough that I thought shortening it to D and the first letter of their name was genius.
As an adult, I long since outgrew the nicknames and tend to just refer to them by their name in my head, but you can bet your arse I still call them Dad out loud to their face.
I don’t even want to think about what their reactions would be if I listed my parents contact names as Lucy, Declan, Caleb, Elijah and Ryan.
Twenty-eight or not, it feels weird…wrong. Thus DD.
“Hey Dad, we were just talking ‘bout you guys,” I say hitting the speaker button and forcing the disappointment from my voice.
“We heard,” he jokes, and I give him an amused chuckle, rolling my eyes at the lifelong joke that my parents hear everything me and my siblings are up to. “What’s wrong?”
“Thought you knew everything?” I tease, delaying the inevitable. It’s not that I don’t want to tell him, the opposite actually. There’s something…cathartic about offloading your worries onto your parents. Knowing they will always listen to you without judgement and offer their advice or help.
As a teenager I couldn’t stand it, but as an adult? I definitely appreciate and admire it.
“First off, we don’t know everything. We just hear everything,” Caleb responds, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “But seriously, what’s wrong?”
“What make you guys think there’s something wrong?
” I ask, prolonging answering. I just…I don’t know, telling them, saying it out loud, makes this real so I’m stalling.
I know I am. What if they think this isn’t her?
Or they don’t think we should read them?
Or they think we do but won’t be able to find her? Or-
“It comes with being a dad. Now, what’s wrong?” Elijah adds, confirming at least three of them are there.
“What, are you all there?”
“Yes, now answer the question, Charlie,” Ryan’s voice leaves no room for argument, and I sigh, preparing to tell them everything.
“Can you guys trace where a blog post is being posted from? Or, maybe know someone who can?” There’s a pause on the other end of the call and I can picture them all having a silent conversation with one another.
“Is this about Bonnie?” Declan asks tentatively.
“Yeah, it is,” I admit, taking Jace’s hand and entwining our fingers when there’s another long pause.
“We don’t have the programs or skills to do it ourselves,” Ryan speaks slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully and I swallow around my disappointment. “But, I can reach out to an old contact who might be able to. Now, want to tell us about these posts? What’s going on?”
I let out a breath before telling them everything Mia told us.
“Wow,” they all say in unison when I’m finished.
“Well? What do you think? Do we read them? Or should we wait for Mia?” My question is met with another long pause, and I start to wonder if maybe they’ve put the call on mute. I’m just about to call them out on it when Ryan speaks.
“I don’t know,” he confesses and the rest of them agree with him, their voices all sounding pained.
“Wait. What? But…you always know what to do. That-that’s your thing,” I stammer, panic rising at the prospect that for the first time in my life, they don’t have the answer.
“I wish we did but we can’t tell you what to do here…I’m sorry,” his voice breaks around the apology and I have to fight the tears that threaten to fall. “This isn’t the kind of thing where someone can tell you what the right thing to do is. Only you – both of you – can do that.”
“What if we read them, and it’s not her?” Jace whispers, his voice sounding as lost as I feel.
“That’s a risk you need to decide if you can take. There’s no way to know if it’s Bonnie posting them without reading them,” Elijah answers. “This person is ready to share their story, to have it heard. You need to decide if you’re ready to hear it, whether it’s her or not.”
“Although,” Caleb adds, “if it is Bonnie; the three of you were inseparable growing up…there is a chance that she might say something that only you will understand.” Like how to find her.
Before either of us can get excited at that idea, Ryan cuts back in, his voice firm.
“But there’s a good chance she won’t. You need to prepare yourself for that too.
This could be Bonnie, and you read these posts, learn what she’s been through, and still not find anything to lead you to her.
Or it could turn out to be someone else entirely posting them. ”
“Would you read them? If you were in my shoes?”
I hear Dad start to answer but before he can get a word in, he’s cut off.
“I would.” My brows rise at the sound of Mum’s voice and my dads go silent.
“If it was me? I’d read them and if I know the two of you as well as I do…
I’m pretty sure you’ve already decided. You’re just scared to admit it.
” She’s not wrong, it’s exactly what I told Jace just before they called.
“When I lost your father,” her voice cracks and I hold my breath. I've heard this story before in a watered-down version meant for a child's ear. Instinctively, I know that's not going to be the case this time.
“I felt like my world ended. I lost everything. He was my best friend; someone I’d known my entire life.
” Jace squeezes my hand tighter, and I rub at the pain in my chest, she’s describing Dad exactly how we would describe Bonnie.
“I’ve been where you are. The only thing that got me through losing him was you…
Hearing his story, the pain and suffering he went through was the hardest thing I’ve ever done but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. ”
In the background, I can hear Dad telling her he’s sorry that he put her through that and Mum reassuring him quietly that it wasn't his fault.
“Hearing what she has to say will be painful. It’ll put images in your head you wish were never there, but I can tell you this, I never regretted it.”
Mum and Dad tell us the full story, sharing the adult versions of what they went through the first two years of my life, and the rest of my dads add their own bits here and there. By the end of it, I just want to get in the car and drive home to give them a hug.
Somewhere through it all though, I realised that they’re not just my parents.
They’re…people. It’s a strange thought and a ridiculous notion because, duh of course they’re people, but…
I don't know, in my head, they’ve always just been my parents.
I think this is the first time I’ve thought of them as adults, just like Jace and I.
“Well-” Mum clears her throat, the sound of her slapping her hands on her thighs echoing down the line. “-I have a studio to plan out and you have a decision to make.”
“Okay, Mum. Thank you.”
“Always. I love you. Both of you.” I hear the sound of her footsteps retreating and we’re all quiet for a moment, the weight of our conversation pressing down on me before her words register.
“Did she say studio?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Declan chuckles, and the clout of emotion from our heavy conversation dissipates. “That was actually why I called you. Your mother is turning your old room into a painting studio and-”
“Painting studio? Mum can’t paint. All of her paintings either look like stick figures or Jaba the Hut,” I joke but…well, it’s an accurate joke. They really do turn out like that.
“Okay, first that’s not very nice and second, she’s…improved.” I snort at Caleb’s comment, but I absolutely love how supportive each of my dads are with anything Mum does. It’s something I look up to and aspire to always be with my own partners.
“Anyways,” Declan cuts back in before I can continue down the path of the hobbies Mum has taken up since us kids have grown up and moved out.
Like the dead avocado tree out the back from her gardening era.
“She found some of your old kids stuff like your baby blanket, some toys, the Dr Sues books and whatnot, and wants to know if you want them?”
“Uh,” I stretch the word, rubbing the back of my neck. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten a random call asking if I want random stuff from my childhood. Like my third-grade homework, why would I want to keep that?
“We’ll take them,” Jace says before I can tell Dad to chuck them or donate them.
“We will?” I ask, surprised and he shrugs.
“Bonnie’s kid has to be about six now, right? What six-year-old doesn’t like toys and Dr Sues books?”
“Okay, we’ll take them.” I smile, nodding my head. Prepare for the future you want, right?
We finish up our conversation before saying our goodbyes and I look at Jace. He looks as exhausted as I feel, the weight of this morning taking it’s toll and the sun hasn’t even been up for an hour.
“Come on, let’s go back to bed for a couple of hours,” I say, pulling him to his feet and walking through the house to what is quickly becoming our bedroom.