Chapter 5: The Voice at 2 a.m.
I played it twice in the bathroom with the door locked, the water running, my back against the cold tile wall.
*"Hey.
It's Daniel.
I know this is — I know.
I'm sorry for the timing.
I got your number from someone, and I know that's not okay.
I just — I need to talk to you.
Not about anything bad.
I promise.
Just — call me back.
Please.
It's about Lisa."*
Forty-three seconds.
I deleted it.
Then I stood there for a long time wondering if deleting it had been the right thing.
Brandon was making breakfast when I came out.
Lisa was at the table drawing something with the focused intensity she brought to everything.
"You okay?" Brandon asked.
"Didn't sleep much."
He handed me coffee.
I took it.
I sat down across from Lisa and watched her draw and tried to decide how many things I was going to have to say out loud today.
We drove to Barbara's at ten.
She answered the door in a pressed blouse, as though she'd been up for hours.
She looked at me, then at Brandon, then stepped back to let us in without a word about the wedding, the dress, the suitcases, or the ceremony she had walked out of.
"Sit down," she said.
We sat at her kitchen table.
She placed a folder in front of Brandon.
"I want you to understand," she said, "that I did this because I love you.
Not to hurt anyone."
"Open it," Brandon said to me.
I opened it.
There were three documents inside.
The first was the same photograph from the envelope at the ceremony — Daniel, in Portland.
The second was a legal document.
I had to read the header three times.
It was a petition.
Filed eight months ago.
Family court, Multnomah County, Oregon.
Daniel Mercer was petitioning for parental rights.
"He filed for custody?" My voice didn't sound like mine.
"Not custody," Barbara said.
"Visitation rights.
He says he wants to be part of her life."
"He left.
He disappeared.
He didn't—"
"He claims he was pressured to leave." Barbara sat down across from me.
"That's in the third document.
His statement.
He says someone told him you didn't want him involved.
That you'd made arrangements.
That he was — in his words — asked to step aside."
"That is not true."
"I believe you," Barbara said.
I looked up.
"I believe you didn't ask him to leave," she said.
"That's why I started digging.
Because the story didn't add up.
And when it didn't add up, I kept pulling."
Brandon leaned forward.
"Who told him to step aside?"
Barbara folded her hands on the table.
"That's the part I haven't been able to confirm yet.
But I have a name."
May you like
She said it.
And the coffee cup slipped out of my hand.
