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“You can come anytime, Mom. We have plenty of room here and we’d all love to see you both.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to your dad, and we’ll plan some time to visit. I miss you, Spence.”
“I miss you too, Mom. Tell Dad hello. I love you both.”
“We love you so much, honey. Call your sister.”
The call ended and his heart felt heavier than before. Maybe that was it. He was homesick. He’d spent a year stationed in Afghanistan and he wasn’t as homesick as he felt right now. Of course, in Afghanistan, he was constantly ducking bullets and dodging land mines.
8
Kenna sat across the table from her father. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared at him. His color was off. He looked rather gray, and his movements were slow. But he’d insisted on coming into the office today. In about five minutes, she was calling her mom to come and pick him up. He needed to rest. As stubborn as he was, she was putting her foot down. But it’s what had made him a good process server. He always got the job done. And that’s how she learned the business.
"Okay, and what about this one? Did you effect service to Brookswood?” She held a work order out to him.
“Yes. I believe I did. Look in my notebook, Kenna. I have it written down.”
She skimmed the pages in the spiral notebook her father carried with him everywhere he went. He jotted down what he’d done, where he went, and who he served every moment of each day. He even scribbled in what he had for lunch along the way.
The office phone rang, and it reminded her to call and cancel the office phone. She’d answer it on her cell phone. When she went back to Houston, her father could answer on his cell phone. There was no sense in paying out good money when they didn’t have to.
She answered, “Paper Trail.”
“Good morning. This is Francesca Smith from Smith Squared. I have papers to be served today, if possible.”
“Of course. Hi, Ms. Smith, this is Kenna Lawrence, Howie’s daughter.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize your voice, Kenna. Are you back and working with your dad?”
Kenna took a deep breath. She was getting this question a lot. “I’m here helping for a bit. I’ll be heading back to Houston when all is well here.” She purposely avoided looking at her father.
“I’m sorry. I heard your dad wasn’t feeling well. Is he better?”
She quickly studied her father now. He had pulled the notebook toward him and was moving a shaking finger down the page as he looked through his notes.
“Yes. Thank you for asking. I can be over in about a half hour to pick up the papers. Where do they need to be served?”
“Craig Howard and Kent Bennit.”
Her heart hit her stomach with a thud. She still hadn’t served yesterday’s papers. But Spencer had said each day was different, so maybe today would be that day.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a half hour.”
She waited until Ms. Smith hung up, then she replaced the receiver into the cradle on the ancient-looking phone. At least it was a push-button, but still.
Slogging back to the table, she sat and let her breath out slowly. “What was that all about?” her father softly asked.
“Attorney Smith has some papers to be served today.”
“That so?” He picked up a pen and underlined something in his notebook. Even his lines were shaky.
She pulled her phone off the table and texted her mom.
“Dad needs to come home.”
She saw the dots dancing before the message.
“I’ll be right there.”
