“Were you two rehearsing for the new play? I didn’t know you were going to be in it!”

“Play?”

“Isn’t it this weekend?”

“Oh, no, yeah, the play. Right. No, I’m not in it.”

She gives me a kind look, and then smiles and pats the table. “We’ll see you tomorrow at the party. Say hello, Bernard,” she says to her husband.

“Hello,” he says.

“Now say goodbye, Bernard,” she adds, picking up the dog’s leash.

“Goodbye, Meg.”

“Bye, Bernard.” Then to her, “Bye.”

“Bye,” she says.

The dogs briefly acknowledge each other.

Once that exchange is finally over, I wait long enough to ensure that I don’t end up going the same direction as them and having to say goodbye six more times. Then I gather my things to walk back to the cottage.

Once there, I try to call my parents again, but I still get no answer. What the hell? Isn’t the child supposed to be the aloof, unreachable one?

To be fair, my dad never answers. But my mom almost always does.

I’m actually starting to get worried. Again, we worry in my family.

I look through my texts. Before I texted her apologizing for the early call, the last text exchange was four days ago.

Hey, thanks for that. I’ll pay you back asap.

And her response:

No rush

I look back in the conversation, searching for clues about my life. Some links to Sephora for products she read about; a picture of avocado egg rolls and a wine I’m sure is sauvignon blanc at the Cheesecake Factory along with the comment wish you were here!; and a screenshot of a conversation with my aunt about the house that they grew up in having sold again. These texts could very well be from my real life. She’s one of the few people I talk to regularly on the phone, so our texts are usually pretty insubstantial but constant.

I look at my texts with my dad.

Not a lot of back-and-forth, which is consistent with the dad I know. It’s mostly me sending him songs and him saying Nice! or thanx.

I roll my eyes affectionately at this. Classic Dad. The last song I sent him was “The Melting of the Sun” by St. Vincent. His response: cool song!

Maybe I can see what their lives are like by looking online. Maybe Mom has posted a picture of, like, healthy crackers from Trader Joe’s lately with a caption like yuck!

But I can’t find her. Does the woman who, here, calls herself Char not do social media in this world? I mean, good for her if that’s the case, but it’s not very helpful for me. I need to stalk my parents, and even with the power of the internet, I’m getting nothing.