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“You two had a fight, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“So who broke the glass, you or Rick?” I point to the shards on the floor.
“Oh, Rick. He threw it and…” She’s sniffling now, trying to hold back tears.
“He didn’t hit you, did he? Because if he did, I’m gonna—”
“No, he didn’t hit me.”
“But he’s throwing dishes around.”
“Angie, don’t make it more than it is.”
“It looks pretty bad as it is.”
“We had a fight. He left to cool down. That’s it. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“Is he coming back?”
“I don’t know.” Her sniffles grow more desperate. “He might not. I’m just afraid he’ll do something.”
“To you?”
“No! Stop thinking that!” Abruptly she gets up. “I need to lie down. So if you don’t mind.”
“I never told you what happened today.”
“Angie, I really don’t feel like talking right now.” She starts to walk out of the kitchen.
“It’s Tricia. I saw her at the supermarket just a few hours ago. She was alive and well and looking at ice cream.”
Jackie halts in the doorway and turns to look at me. What I see in her face puzzles me. Despite the fact I just gave her some very good news, she looks frightened. “Did you—did you talk to her?”
“I tried to, but you know. Teenagers.”
“What did she say?”
“She seems really mad at you.”
“I know.”
“What happened between you two? She said it was something you did.”
“She didn’t tell you, did she?”
“No.”
Jackie sighs, a sound of relief. “I can’t talk about this. Please, will you just give me some privacy? It’s something we have to work out by ourselves.”
I exit her house feeling bewildered. As I walk away, I’m aware she’s watching me, her haggard face framed in the window. I don’t know what blew that family apart, and clearly not one of them is going to tell me. At least now I know this isn’t a case of a kidnapped teenager. Instead it’s a case of a pissed-off teenager and a marriage in the process of disintegrating.
Just another day in the neighborhood.
