Chapter 6
Rolling over, Abigail blindly swatted at the hideous noise coming from her nightstand. A shrill ringing cut right through her, and she finally grasped the smooth glass surface of her phone.
A call, it’s a call, she realized groggily.
“Hello?” she answered, stifling a yawn.
“Abby!?” Liam’s frantic voice was almost painfully loud as she held the phone to her ear.
Suddenly, Abigail was wide awake and her heart was beating hard.
“What’s wrong? Are the girls okay?” she asked, throwing the blankets off her as she stood.
“What? Yes,” Liam replied, “the girls are fine, are you!?”
Her half-asleep thoughts crashed into each other. Relief to finally have Liam on the phone so she could talk to the girls met panic that something really was wrong.
“Am I?” she repeated, “of course I am... What’s going on? You sound... terrified.”
The phone beeped loudly and she glanced at the screen. He had sent a video call request. Abigail glanced around the room as she hit accept and watched his pixelated, unshaven face fill the screen.
“What the hell Abby!? Why didn’t you call me?” he whisper-shouted.
“I tried!” she exclaimed, anger joining the frazzled collection of emotions in her system, “you took the girls out of cell service for days, Liam! Days! I was this close to freaking all the way out—I couldn’t even get a hold of your father!”
His mouth slackened into a shocked ‘O’, which quickly shifted to an expression of total confusion.
“Wait, is this... because you couldn’t get through...? Or did you... did it... did it really happen, or was it some weird attempt to contact me?”
The pair stared at each other in silence for several long seconds before Abigail broke it.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, exasperated.
“We got back into cell service range today and my phone nearly blew up,” he said, “your missed calls, calls from Shelley, calls from the bank. Abby, I had about ten missed communications from the bank saying a cardholder had been robbed, and they needed me to authorize changes to the account as you were unable to provide consent. I thought... Abby, you got mugged?”
Abigail blinked hard as understanding fell into place, “oh.. oh my god, really? That’s the way they…?”
“Abby...”
Guilt washed over her as she imagined him opening his emails and thinking she was badly hurt, though it was mixed in with a strange calmness. She certainly hadn’t forgotten about the incident, but she’d been dealing with it for several days by now and it almost felt like old news.
“Oh... yeah. I, uh, did kind of... I’m fine. Really. I was scared but not actually hurt—the guy got my purse and phone but I’m all right.”
She watched as his expression filtered from confusion and anger to concern, “oh God, Abby... you seriously got mugged?”
“Yeah,” she said, knowing her expression was awkwardly sheepish, “I’m sorry about the bank. I didn’t think they’d be so dense... Because of the type of account, I can’t request a new card without you co-signing it, I guess that’s what they meant by consent.”
Liam was staring at her like he hadn’t seen her in a year.
“Yeah... I guess,” he said, almost whispering, “Abs, I thought you were hurt… like, really badly hurt... when they said you couldn’t consent.”
His voice broke, and Abby’s heart clenched. It looked like he was about to cry.
“I’m all right. Really, I am,” she reassured, “It was scary, but that’s it.”
“That’s bad enough,” he said, then continued with a snort of laughter. “How did you even get mugged in Newport—I always thought it was basically a gated community of rich holiday homeowners.”
Chilly dread crept through her veins. She had to tell him she was in New York, obviously, but her immediate instinct to tell him that, of course, Newport was fine and safe, rang distinctly untrue considering what she had discovered about the place in the last few months.
“Well, that would surprise me too,” she admitted, “though I’m sure muggings happen everywhere. I’m actually visiting New York for a few days, and we got cornered in the subway.”
She eyed him carefully to try and gauge his reaction; he mostly looked confused.
“New York...? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Abigail raised an eyebrow and waited for him to catch on.
“Oh,” he said as he realized, “right... look, I’m so sorry about that. I had no idea that when dad said that there was no coverage, he really meant it. The pub we stayed in didn’t have Wi-Fi either...”
“You scared me too,” she said, “I really didn’t like not being able to contact the girls.”
Liam nodded. “I know, I’m so sorry. I thought at least one of my texts would have sent when there was a blip of coverage, but I guess not?”
“Not.”
They watched each other for a few moments and a spark of annoyance flickered in Abigail’s mind.
“Wait, did you seriously ask me if I made it up so the bank would contact you!?”
Liam’s face fell immediately. “Oh, uh, I mean… kind of? I didn’t really think it, more like I was afraid of it because… and at least if that was the case, you were… well, oh for Pete’s sake, I’m sorry, Abs. I should not have considered it for even a second. I—”
She held up a hand, “Stop.”
Liam pressed his lips together and waited.
“I get it,” she said, noting the look of surprised relief on her ex-husband’s face, “I, of all people, understand the racing, wild, and anxious thoughts that occur to you when you’re worried. I’m guessing you were going to say that at least if I was lying about it to get the bank to contact you that meant I wasn’t hurt, right?”
He looked embarrassed but relived.
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m still so sorry... it was a nasty thing to think and I don’t even know why I let it in to my head.”
Abigail shrugged, “It happens. I once anxiously convinced myself that the cleaner we hired—when I was first sick after the twins were born—that she hated me and thought I deserved to be sick because I was a bad mom.”
“What!?” Liam burst out, “Mrs. Freeman?”
“Yep, that sweet lady,” Abigail replied, laughing. “She would fuss over me, click her tongue, and roll her eyes. Eventually, when I finally was able to have a proper conversation with her, she told me she used to be a nurse, and the way I was overextending myself by insisting on helping her when I was on bed rest was the reason. But I was convinced...”
Liam laughed and shook his head. “She lectured me every day she was scheduled and said that I needed to tell you to leave her alone and go back to bed. I told her every time that I could do that as many times as I liked and it would make no difference at all. Hey, so, why are you in New York? Did you get bored of the easy breezy beach life?”
A series of three brief raps on the door stole her attention for a second, and she realized that she hadn’t even noticed Byron was gone from the bed. Abigail felt her face flush with heat at the memory.
“Come in,” she called before turning her attention back to Liam, “uh, not exactly.”
The easy breezy beach life had hardly been relaxing, let alone boring, but despite telling him most of what had happened in the beginning, Abigail was oddly hesitant to fill him in on the most recent developments. He’d worry too much, she’d justified to herself, and he would tell her not to pursue it.
Byron opened the door and entered, about to say something, when he saw that she was on the phone. He shushed himself and pointed to the paper bags and tray of coffee he’d procured. He placed them on the table next to her and started organizing the food boxes.
“So...?”
“Sorry,” Abigail replied, “just some red tape stuff. I found some documents of my dad’s that left me wondering, so I figured I’d come to the source. I’m sorry I worried you...”
Abigail smiled into the phone, filled with gratitude that she was able to co-parent with Liam so successfully. This brief exchange of heated words was about the limit of their disagreements, and this had been a total misunderstanding. She knew that most people weren’t so lucky in their relationships with their exes.
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” he replied. “I’m just glad you’re all right. I’ll call the bank now and get you sorted out. Okay?”
“Amazing, thank you,” she said. “I have to go. Can you send my love to the girls?”
Liam beamed back at her, “Of course, we’ll set up a call for later—once my nervous system has calmed down from the thought of you unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere...”
He looked thoughtful for a second, looking past the phone and getting a glazed look in his eyes. When his focus returned to the call, his eyes were soft and misty.
“You okay?” she asked, smiling in recognition of his sentimental nature showing through.
The connection he had always had with his emotions and the sensitivity he’d always been proud of were one of the reasons she had found it so easy to fall in love with Liam back in the day. It was also, probably, one of the main reasons their separation and divorce had been as pain-free as they had been.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice wavering slightly, “just reflecting on how incredibly lucky I am to have someone like you to share this life with.”
“Me too,” she replied, “so lucky.”
They shared a quiet moment before Liam gave himself an exaggerated shake.
“All right,” he said, “I’d better go. Can’t spend the whole day on the phone with you.”
“Fair enough,” Abigail said, laughing, “talk later?”
By the time she finished saying goodbye, Byron had set out a veritable breakfast buffet in front of her.
“Okay, but did you leave any food in the restaurant for anyone else?” she asked, laughing.
Byron smiled and nodded, “I just figured I’d get a selection. Most of this will survive all right in the mini-fridge, and I’m happy to eat it cold.”
“Oh I’ll eat it—don’t worry about that!” Abigail assured him, “I’m just amazed they let one man order so much.”
The wave of sheer hunger that hit her as she sat down at the table shocked her, and as Abigail planned her strategy, she realized that they hadn’t eaten all that much since lunch with Peta the previous day.
Two of the fluffy pancakes, at least three rashers of bacon, and maple syrup to start sounded exactly right.
The scrambled eggs also looked perfectly matched with the thick slice of bread that seemed to have had cheese added to the top and melted. Now that she was looking at it closely, she realized that the waffles would probably have to be saved and enjoyed later... she was happy to do her best, though.
“Well, I had to strong-arm them, but I prevailed,” Byron said as he posed and flexed his arms jokingly.
Abigail laughed as she ate a mouthful of pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup, turning her laugh into a groan of pleasure.
“Oh wow, Byron, this is amazing...”
Meeting his eyes across the table, she felt her neck grow warm at the hungry look in his eyes. As quickly as she had noticed it, it was gone and she swallowed hard. She must have imagined it... right? From the corner of her eye, she studied Byron for the rest of the meal, and his expression remained shuttered even though he chatted and joked with her.
She must have imagined it.