August 15, Saturday
WARREN ANSWERED from what looked like his office at the dealership, the wall behind him lined with awards for regional sales figures, his phone lying face-up beside the laptop where I could see him glancing at it every few seconds like it might rescue him from the conversation entirely.
"Hey," he said, already thumbing something on the screen. "Sorry, one sec."
I waited, aware of Deputy Wells a discreet distance behind me, arms folded, gaze fixed somewhere neutral. I'd stopped wondering what he made of my calls with my family. Mostly.
"Warren. I have limited time."
"Right, right." He set the phone down, though his eyes kept drifting toward it.
"So look, I don't know what you want me to say.
The kids are completely out of control. Josh mouthed off to me last night, and Lily's been slamming doors like she's auditioning for something.
" He shook his head. "This is what happens, Isabel, when there's no discipline. "
I silently counted to ten before I trusted myself to speak. "That's your responsibility too, Warren. You're their father."
"I'm working sixty hours a week to keep the lights on!" He spread his hands. "I'm the reason you and the kids have that roof over your heads in the first place. Forgive me if I don't have time to be the discipline police on top of everything else."
"This isn't helping either of us figure out how to fix it."
"The way to fix it is for you to come home."
"You know I can't do that." He didn't respond to that, just exhaled through his nose, and I decided to press forward before I lost my nerve. "The kids mentioned Heidi's been at the house more."
His jaw tightened instantly. "What do you expect, Isabel? I'm living there again. And she and I are together."
"All I'm saying is it adds a layer of confusion."
"She's not living there. God." He rubbed his forehead like I was the one being unreasonable. "She needs her own space. She comes by sometimes. That's it."
I bit down on several things I wanted to say, none of which would move this conversation one inch closer to useful, and redirected instead, the way I'd learned to do at family dinners over the years.
"Let's talk about Lily's driver's permit.
If she got it, she could help with Josh's soccer runs.
My SUV is just sitting in the garage, and it would take some pressure off both of you. "
"Sure, yeah, I'll mention it." He was already glancing at his phone again, which had lit up twice in the last thirty seconds. "I've got a lot going on right now, Isabel. I can't exactly sit her down for a heart-to-heart about parallel parking."
"It doesn't have to be a heart-to-heart. Just encourage her. Or maybe Elaine can help."
"I said I'd try." His phone buzzed a third time and he picked it up this time, glancing at the screen with the particular urgency he used to reserve for me, a long time ago. "Look, I've gotta take this. Bye."
The screen went black.
I sat there a beat too long, heat crawling up my neck and into my face, aware in a way I hadn't quite let myself be during the call itself that Deputy Wells had probably heard every word of my domestic drama.
He said nothing as he walked me back down the hallway, offered no expression I could read, which somehow made it worse.
I told myself it didn't matter what a federal marshal thought of my ex-husband, of my marriage, of the general wreckage of my life laid bare in twenty-minute increments on a hotel laptop.
I told myself that the whole way back to my room.