Chapter 2 - SHE HAD BEEN TELLING HIM JOEY WAS FINE.
Alan did not shout.
That surprised Jessica more than shouting would have.
He picked Joey’s coat from the mudroom hook, helped her into it, then lifted the canvas backpack from the floor.
Jessica stood near the island, arms folded.
“You are behaving irrationally.”
Alan zipped Joey’s coat.
“Do you have medication upstairs?”
Joey nodded.
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“We’ll pack it.”
Jessica walked behind them.
“Alan, you need to think for thirty seconds.”
“I am thinking.”
“No. You’re reacting.”
Alan stopped at the stairs.
Jessica lowered her voice.
“She is exhausted. She is emotional. You arrived without warning. You saw one moment and decided you understand months of responsibility.”
Alan turned.
“One moment?”
“Yes.”
Joey stared at the stairs.
Alan noticed.
“You okay?”
“I can do it.”
He took one step upward.
Joey followed slowly.
Jessica kept talking.
“I drove her to appointments.”
Joey said nothing.
“I picked up prescriptions.”
Nothing.
“I bought groceries.”
Alan paused.
“Did she ask you not to tell me she lost her hair?”
Jessica blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“She didn’t want you distracted.”
Alan looked at Joey.
“Did you tell her that?”
Joey hesitated.
Jessica answered first.
“She was crying. She was overwhelmed. I made a judgment call.”
Alan’s face hardened.
“Joey?”
“No.”
The answer was quiet.
But it was clear.
Alan turned toward his mother.
Jessica’s expression shifted.
“You said you didn’t want him worrying.”
“I said I didn’t know how to tell him.”
“Same thing.”
“No,” Alan said. “It isn’t.”
They reached the guest room.
Alan stopped in the doorway.
It looked nothing like the room he remembered.
The framed prints were gone.
The upholstered chair was gone.
So was the small writing desk.
Joey’s clothes were folded inside two plastic storage bins against the wall. Several pharmacy bags sat on the dresser beside unopened mail.
A blanket had been folded over the mattress.
No decorative comforter.
No extra pillows.
No lamp beside the bed.
Alan walked inside slowly.
“What happened to the furniture?”
Jessica leaned against the doorframe.
“She needed space.”
“For plastic bins?”
“For medical supplies.”
Alan looked around.
There were no medical supplies except the pharmacy bags.
Joey walked to the closet.
Alan opened it before she could.
Most of the closet was filled with Jessica’s seasonal clothes.
Joey had maybe twelve inches of hanging space.
Her jacket and two dresses were squeezed between garment bags.
Alan stared.
“Was it like this when I left?”
Joey took a long breath.
“No.”
Jessica’s patience broke.
“This is absurd.”
Alan looked at her.
“What happened?”
“I needed the room.”
“You have six bedrooms.”
“That is not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is that this is my home.”
Joey sat on the edge of the bed.
Her exhaustion became visible the second she stopped standing.
Alan noticed how carefully she lowered herself.
“How long were you at the sink?”
Joey looked down.
“I don’t know.”
“Ten minutes?”
Silence.
“Thirty?”
She rubbed one wrist.
“I had to finish.”
Alan looked toward Jessica.
“Finish what?”
“The kitchen,” Joey said.
Alan’s voice became quieter.
“The whole kitchen?”
Joey nodded.
Jessica stepped inside.
“She was not scrubbing floors.”
Alan stared at her.
Jessica spread her hands.
“She loaded dishes. Wiped counters. Normal things.”
“After treatment?”
“Not every day.”
Alan caught the wording.
“How many days?”
Jessica looked annoyed.
“Alan.”
“How many?”
“I don’t keep a spreadsheet.”
Joey opened the first plastic bin.
Alan knelt beside her.
“Don’t pack yet.”
She looked confused.
“Why?”
“Sit.”
“I can help.”
“You don’t have to earn the right to leave.”
Joey stared at him.
The sentence seemed to hit somewhere deep.
She sat back down.
Alan packed.
He found more than clothes.
A hospital parking receipt.
A stack of appointment cards.
A half-eaten sleeve of crackers.
Two unopened nutrition drinks.
An envelope containing three twenty-dollar bills.
He held it up.
“What’s this?”
Joey looked embarrassed.
“Emergency money.”
“Why is it hidden?”
She looked toward the doorway.
Jessica’s face tightened.
Alan noticed.
“Joey?”
“I wanted cash.”
“You have a card.”
“The card wasn’t always…”
She stopped.
Alan waited.
“Wasn’t always what?”
Jessica said, “Oh, for God’s sake.”
Alan stood.
“Finish the sentence.”
Joey’s eyes stayed on the floor.
“The grocery card got declined twice.”
Alan turned to Jessica.
Jessica lifted both hands.
“Bank security.”
“Whose card?”
“Mine.”
Alan looked back at Joey.
“You were using Mom’s grocery card?”
Jessica answered.
“I told her she could use it for household groceries.”
“Why didn’t she use ours?”
Joey’s voice was small.
“I did at first.”
Alan reached for his phone.
Their shared account still existed.
He opened it.
There was money.
Not a lot, but enough.
“Why?”
Joey covered her face.
“I was trying to save it.”
“For what?”
“The hotel.”
Alan stared.
“What hotel?”
“In case I had to leave.”
Jessica snapped.
“That is ridiculous.”
Alan turned.
“Stop calling everything she says ridiculous.”
“Because she is making this sound like some prison.”
Joey looked up suddenly.
“I never said prison.”
Jessica went silent.
Alan noticed something else.
Joey had not defended Jessica once.
She had only tried to make Alan calmer.
That distinction mattered.
He sat beside her.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did.”
Alan frowned.
“When?”
“A few times.”
“I answered.”
“Not those.”
Joey rubbed her palms together.
“I hung up.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I heard your voice, I knew you’d know.”
Alan’s anger disappeared for a moment.
He looked at his wife.
“You could have told me.”
“I know.”
“I would have come.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
Joey’s eyes moved toward Jessica.
Jessica saw it.
“No.”
Joey looked back at Alan.
“She said you couldn’t just leave.”
Jessica stepped forward.
“That is true.”
Alan ignored her.
Joey continued.
“She said you had responsibilities.”
“I do.”
“She said you’d worked too hard.”
Alan’s face changed.
“She said you told her that?”
Joey shook her head.
“No. She said she knew you.”
Jessica laughed once.
“I am his mother.”
Joey’s voice grew steadier.
“She said if I loved you, I wouldn’t turn my illness into something that damaged your career.”
Alan stood very slowly.
Jessica’s confidence flickered.
“That is not what I said.”
Joey looked at her.
“Yes, it is.”
“No. I said Alan has responsibilities beyond this house.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“Joey, you were upset.”
“I remember.”
Alan walked toward the door.
Jessica lifted her chin.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my phone charger.”
“It’s downstairs.”
“No. The one I left in the study.”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed.
Alan noticed that too.
He went downstairs.
The study was exactly as he remembered it.
His charger was in the drawer.
He plugged in his phone and sat behind the desk.
For the first time since entering the house, he opened the message thread with his mother and scrolled backward.
Jessica had messaged him almost every day.
JOEY ATE WELL TODAY.
SHE’S RESTING.
ROUGH APPOINTMENT BUT SHE’S FINE.
DON’T WORRY.
SHE’S SLEEPING.
I’VE GOT HER.
Alan kept scrolling.
Then he compared the dates with the hospital appointment cards he had photographed upstairs.
One appointment had ended at 4:20 p.m.
Jessica had texted him at 4:37.
SHE’S HOME ASLEEP. DOING MUCH BETTER TODAY.
Alan stared at the screen.
Joey could not have been home.
The hospital was nearly forty minutes away.
He checked another date.
And another.
Then he found the message that made him stop breathing for a moment.
It had arrived on a Tuesday night.
SHE HAD A GOOD DAY. DON’T CALL. SHE FINALLY FELL ASLEEP.
Alan remembered obeying.
He had sent a heart.
Then gone back to work.
Upstairs, Joey had an appointment card from that same night.
Emergency infusion clinic.
Check-in: 7:12 p.m.
Alan looked toward the staircase.
His mother had not simply failed to tell him Joey was struggling.
May you like
She had been actively telling him Joey was somewhere she was not.
And now Alan wanted to know why.
