Page 43 of Jack Frosting

“What’s your dog’s name?”

“It’s Bear. Here’s what he looks like.”

Despite his name, Bear wasn’t very big. It was going to be cold tonight. We’d need to find him soon, or hope someone else already had.

THIRTEEN

CLAYTON

Where is he?!

Henry and I had been home for hours. We’d already had dinner. I’d sent Jack four texts, despite not wanting to seem desperate.

Too late for that.

I finally caved and called him. I heard his ringtone from the kitchen. It was coming from the basement, and sure enough, I found it on his dresser.

He was gone, he didn’t have his phone, and his car was in the driveway.

I resumed my post in the kitchen.

“Is everything okay, Dad? You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.”

I didn’t even hear Henry come in. I didn’t even realize I was pacing.

“I’m just worried about Clayton.”

“Is something wrong?” Henry asked.

Well, I didn’t want Henry to worry as much as I was, so I downplayed it. “I’m not sure. He’s just not here at the moment.”

“I’m not a detective, but I don’t think walking back and forth in our kitchen is going to make him appear.”

If she ever called again, I’d have to thank my ex-wife for our son’s sarcasm. He certainly didn’t get it from me.

I stopped pacing and faced him. “Do you have any bright ideas then?”

“Is his coat missing?” Henry asked. “It’s possible he’s just out on another date and left his phone.”

Fuck! I hadn’t even thought of that. Would he go on a date? Could I be that wrong about our connection?

No! I wasn’t going to second-guess myself.

But still, it’s not like I asked him to be exclusive. He was younger than me. Maybe casual is what guys do nowadays.

“His coat’s missing,” Henry interrupted my internal dialogue. “I checked while you were…whatever you were doing. We can walk around the neighborhood, see if he’s around?” Henry suggested.

I had no idea if that would help, but I needed to do something. “Sounds good. Grab your coat and let’s go.”

A few minutes later we were ready to go. Just as my hand reached the doorknob, the door opened. It was Jack. His cheeks were pink.

“Oooh, thank God you’re home. I left my keys and phone. I was afraid you’d leave to go look for me or something and then I’d be stuck out here turning into a snowman.”

“We were just on our way to look,” I explained.

“Dad was having a fit that you were missing.”

“It was not a fit. I was-”