Chapters (57)
She wouldn’t talk to me ever again about what Mary told her, Mary’s plans for the future. Nothing. Said it wasn’t my business. Not then, not ever. But it was all my business. My girls are my life. Mary died before we cleared things up, we were still arguing up to the end. I bite my lip with the memory, still upset I let things with Mary get out of control. I cannot let that happen with Betsy. I won’t.
So I’ll destroy this note. We have the other two as evidence. Whoever wrote this one, well, I’ll never know. I crumple the paper and toss it into the kitchen sink. I drown it in water and, once it’s wet, mash it to shreds and feed it down the disposal. And then, like a lightning strike, I realize there is another person who likely doesn’t appreciate the relationship between Betsy and Bo.
Josh.
Josh might know a lot about Betsy. He was always nice and friendly to me when they dated. And he came to the memorial service even though Betsy had dumped him already. Josh could have plenty of insights about my daughter. I wish I’d paid more attention to him, gotten to know his parents, the rest of the games people play when their kids are dating. Like Brad, Josh’s family lives in The Cove, too, I discovered recently.
Perhaps Hoffman can help me connect with Josh? I know he’ll have so much to tell me about my daughter, especially if she broke his heart. A lover scorned is a dangerous thing.
But first, I call Dr. Rosenthal’s office. The bored receptionist explains the doctor is booked today, as always.
“Tell her it’s a bit of an emergency.” My hands can’t stop shaking.
“Is it an emergency?” bored receptionist asks.
“Yes.” My heart races as I try to stay calm on the phone. I realize now there could be two sides to the story, even though I’ve destroyed the latest note. I need to make sure my story is the one people believe, the truth. It’s an integral part of the plan. Dr. Rosenthal will see things the way I do, but I need to reinforce it today. Now. I grip the phone, willing a positive response.
Big sigh. “She can squeeze you in at three.”
“I’ll take it.” I exhale. Hang up.
Text Sam: Can you take me to the doctor at 3?
Sam texts back: Of course, Mrs. H. See you at 2:45!