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“I used to write her,” Angela says, breaking into my thoughts.
“Your daughter?”
“Yes. Every week, until I couldn’t anymore.” She gives me an apologetic smile as she taps her head. “The brain isn’t what it used to be, I’m afraid. I can’t write anything but my name these days. The letters just don’t come out right. It’s so frustrating.”
“I could write her for you, if you want.” The suggestion slips out before I’ve thought it through, but it feels right.
Angela looks surprised. “Oh…”
“You could tell me what to say. I don’t mind. But only if you want to.”
“Oh, Beth.” She sniffs and then laughs and takes a little lace-edged hanky from her sleeve and dabs her eyes. “That’s so very kind of you. Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“Really very kind.” She smiles and sighs and tucks the handkerchief back in her sleeve as she looks around the little kitchen, her forehead crinkling. “Now, where is…”
“Dylan. He’s not here.” I try to smile. “He’s with his dad.”
About twenty minutes later, I’m back in the emptiness of my own apartment, having promised to visit Angela tomorrow to help her write a letter to her daughter. I wonder if she’ll even remember the conversation, but I am determined to follow through. It feels good, to help someone with their problems, rather than just focus on my own.
However, any sense of purpose or goodwill I felt helping Angela drains away as I gaze around the barren space and miss Dylan. Missing him is an activity that takes up all my emotion, all my energy, and yet still leaves me so empty. It’s only four o’clock in the afternoon and I can’t stand the thought of another evening alone. For the last few days, I’d been so busy preparing for the court hearing that I didn’t let myself feel lonely. Now there’s nothing but the prospects of three months of nights like this one.
Then my phone rings, and when I look at the screen, I see, with a surprise verging on pleasure, that it’s Mike. I gave him my number a few days ago, when he was asking about the court hearing… and now I’ll have to tell him the judge’s verdict. That little flicker of pleasure evaporates.
“Beth? How did it go?”
He sounds so eager, I don’t want to disappoint him, but of course I have to. “The judge decided that Dylan should stay where he is, for now.”
“What…!” Mike’s shock is almost gratifying, even though I don’t feel I deserve it after my shameful no-show this morning. “But how? Why?”
I can’t bear to tell him that I actually missed the whole hearing. “She just did.”
“Aw, Beth.” Mike sounds genuinely upset. “That’s so unfair. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so. There’s nothing anyone can do but wait.” And jump through all the hoops Susan is going to set me.
“When do you get him back?”
“There’s another hearing in three months. Hopefully then.”
“Aw, man. I really am sorry.”
“Thanks.”
We’re both silent, the only sound our breathing. I don’t feel so alone, and yet at the same time I feel more alone than ever. Mike is the only person in the world who cares about me right n
ow, and I don’t even know his last name.
“Look…” he says after a moment. “I know this might not be the right time… but I get off work in another hour… do you want to get a pizza or something?” There’s a slightly wobbly note of vulnerability in his voice, and he sounds so sincere and so nice that I almost say yes.
But part of me feels as if doing anything like that would be a betrayal of Dylan, and another part can’t even remember how to socialize. Would it be a date? And even if it wasn’t, how am I supposed to act? What would we talk about? It’s been way too long since I’ve done anything social. Since I’ve had a friend.
“Beth?” Mike prompts, and I realize the silence has gone on too long.
“That’s really nice, Mike, but I think I’m just going to stay home tonight. But thank you for thinking of me.”
“No problem. I understand totally. That’s cool.” He trips over his words in his effort to assure me it’s all okay.
