Page 146 of Lost Trust

“Downsize? What does that mean?”

“It means I couldn’t keep paying the HOA fees, homeowners’ insurance, and taxes on my own and still put groceries on the table to feed our son. That’s what it means.”

Silence stretches between us.

“If you needed money, you should have asked.”

A bitter laugh almost escapes me. “I shouldn’t have to track you down to ask for support.”

“Track me down? You have my damn phone number. You could’ve used it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed your phone didn’t work anymore. Since you haven’t used it to contact your son in, what’s it been, Blaze? Eight, nine months?”

“Called him at Christmas. Sent gifts.”

“Right.” I swallow. “Over six months and one ten-minute phone call.”

“Don’t start. You know my career has me all over the place.”

“I know it had you in Fort Worth. Thirty miles from our home. For the finals last month.”

I can hear his sigh over the line.

“It was a busy weekend. I tried to make time to swing by. It just didn’t work out.”

If I could launch myself through this phone and wrap my hands around his throat, I would.

“I’m sure you and Francey had lots of business to attend to that was much more important than seeing your little boy. Who, by the way, watched every second of the finals just so he could see his daddy.” I make sure that last word lands.

Silence.

Then, “Where is he? Let me talk to him.”

“He’s not here right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m at work. That’s why.”

Rowdy chooses that exact moment to snort his protest at having to wait for his brushing.

“Was that a horse?”

“Yeah. It’s Rowdy. And I need to get off here to take care of him.”

“I thought you said you were at work.”

“I am.”

“Where the fuck is work?”

I don’t reply.

“Marina.”

I try to collect my thoughts before I answer.

“Marina, don’t make me call the police and tell them you’ve taken off with my kid and refuse to tell me where you are.”