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“Hi. It’s me, Peter.”
He went quiet, and my throat went dry. Finally, he sighed heavily. “Oh. Hey. How’d you get this number?”
“Your answering machine?”
“Right. I forgot.”
He didn’t want to talk to me. It was a mistake to have called. I swallowed hard, my throat tight and heart pounding. What had I even planned to say? I couldn’t remember. The silence stretched on between us.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but why did you call?” Exhaustion threaded through his voice. “I have a lot going on, and while listening to you breathe isn’t awful, it’s not going to get Paul or Kennedy to bed either.”
“I’m sorry.”
He was silent again, and I squeezed my eyes shut. His voice was tender when he prompted me. “For?”
“It’s hard to know where to start.”
Daniel made a soft sound that was almost like a laugh. “Well, you won’t get anywhere if you don’t try.”
“Okay. First, I’m sorry for the way that—” I broke off, hearing a woman’s voice in the background on Daniel’s end.
“Danny, honey, who’s on the phone? Did your father call?” Her laugh was a weird, drunken-sounding thing that raised my hackles. “No, of course he didn’t. Because your father isdead. Because he’s anasshole.”
“Mom, sit down, you’re going to—shit, hold on.” The phone clattered again. There was a crashing noise, a thump, and more cursing from both Daniel and his mom.
The chaotic situation Daniel was in the middle of took shape for me. My phone call had no place in his life right now. I considered hanging up, but I knew that was the wrong thing to do.
Instead, I listened to the low sounds of Daniel’s voice and his mother’s slurred, incoherent responses. Most of it I couldn’t make out, but I heard Daniel say, “I thought you’d handed over the last of it.” His mother laughed hysterically in reply.
The voices faded away and fourteen long minutes passed. I stared at the kitchen clock, counting my breaths and wondering if Daniel had forgotten about me entirely.
I heard footsteps again.
“Mister?”
It was Kennedy. “Yes?”
“Dan says tonight’s not good to talk. Okay?”
“Sure, Kennedy. Tell him to call me anytime. Tell him I’ll come over to help if he wants.”
Kennedy took a sharp breath. “You’ll help Mom stop drinking?”
“I…well, no. I mean I could help Daniel with you and Paul. I don’t think I can help your mom. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” The weight of her disappointment hurt. “Okay, mister. Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don’t let the aliens bite.” She hung up on me.
Aliens. I’d always heard it as bedbugs, but in Kennedy’s world, aliens probably made just as much sense.
***
The next morningwhen Mom yelled upstairs that “a boy named Daniel” was on the phone, I lurched out of my bed and nearly tripped over my own feet racing to the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what time my parents had gotten home the night before, but I was shocked my mom was up so early.
Grabbing the receiver from where it dangled down to the floor, I breathlessly answered, “Hello?”
“Hey. I can’t talk long.”
I melted against the wall, relieved at hearing his gentle baritone washing over me. “That’s okay. I’m just glad you called.”
