Chapter 5: What He Said When He Called
I stared at the phone for two full rings.
Carol took a small step back, giving me the space to decide.
I picked it up.
"Hey." His voice was easy.
Relaxed.
Airport noise behind him — announcements, rolling luggage, the low hum of a terminal.
"I was worried about you.
You never texted back."
"I'm at Aunt Diane's," I said.
My voice came out steady.
I was surprised.
"She stay with the kids?"
"No.
She left."
A beat.
Just a half-second, but I heard it.
"That's rough, babe.
I'm sorry.
I already boarded — I can't come back now.
Can you call your cousin?
Didn't you say she was close by?"
He had an answer ready.
He had a whole script ready.
"Marcus," I said.
"Who is Tamara?"
The terminal noise kept going.
A gate announcement.
Someone laughing far away.
He didn't say anything.
"Coral Gables," I said.
"Three years.
Two kids.
Her name is Tamara.
Who is she?"
"Where did you hear that name?" His voice had changed.
Still controlled, but the ease was gone.
"Does it matter?"
"Renee, listen to me—"
"I am listening.
I've been listening this whole time.
That's been the problem."
"Whatever you heard, it's not what you think.
I can explain everything when I get back.
Just — I need you to stay calm.
The kids are right there."
"Don't tell me to stay calm.
Don't use my kids to tell me to stay calm."
"I'm not using anyone.
I'm asking you to be rational."
"Rational." I looked at Carol, who was standing very still near the window.
"You set this up.
You knew Aunt Diane wouldn't stay.
You needed me stuck here."
"That is not what happened."
"Then why didn't you arrange backup childcare?
You had two weeks."
"I thought Diane—"
"You thought nothing.
You planned this."
His voice dropped.
The easy tone was gone completely now and what replaced it was something quieter and harder.
"You need to be very careful about what you're accusing me of."
"Or what?"
Silence.
"Or what, Marcus?"
"I'm just saying." He paused.
"You're upset.
You're not thinking clearly.
And you're saying things that could cause a lot of damage if they get repeated."
"To who?
To Tamara?
Does she know about me?"
"Stop saying that name."
"Does she know you have a girlfriend with two kids?
Does she know about Mia?
Does she know about Jaylen?"
"Renee." His voice was very quiet now.
"I need you to stop."
"I have a photograph," I said.
"Your mother brought it."
The silence that followed was a different kind of silence.
It had weight.
"My mother." He said it slowly, like he was tasting something bitter.
"She's there."
"She drove here.
She wanted to make sure I knew."
"She had no right—"
"She had every right.
Someone had to."
"She is a bitter, interfering old woman who has spent thirty years trying to destroy every good thing in my life, and you are standing in her living room believing every word she says."
Carol's expression didn't change.
She had heard this before.
Probably many times.
"She showed me a photograph," I said.
"Photographs can be faked.
Photographs can be taken out of context.
You don't know what you're looking at."
"The boy has your eyes."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"I want you out of that house," he said.
"Take the kids and go home and wait for me.
We will talk about this like adults when I land."
"When do you land?"
"Sunday night."
"And where are you staying until Sunday?"
He didn't answer.
"A hotel?" I said.
"Or Coral Gables?"
"I'm ending this call."
"Marcus—"
"I said I'm ending this call.
Go home.
We'll talk Sunday."
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone.
Jaylen was standing in the hallway.
He had come back without me hearing him.
He was holding a plastic dinosaur in each hand and he was looking at me the way children look when they have heard more than you wanted them to hear and are trying to decide if they should pretend they didn't.
"Mama," he said.
"Are you okay?"
I crossed the room and crouched down in front of him.
"I'm going to be," I said.
He held out one of the dinosaurs.
The green one.
His favorite.
May you like
"You can hold this," he said.
"It helps."
