The Pendleton Omens - 20. Chapter 20

I talked with Noah almost first thing, Massachusetts time. I’d set Scoot’s alarm to wake me at four because I knew I could catch Noah eating breakfast and reading the morning paper. I told him what had happened with Owen. And how I felt. Then I waited for his answer.

“Straight guys don’t understand,” he said. “No matter what they think they know. At some point they really believe it’s our choice. Or something we’ll grow out of. But they don’t realize it makes us happy. And they don’t understand the twisting we do to try and make other people happy.”

“What should I do about work? I like my job.”

“And you like Owen. And maybe by the time you’re both eighty, this won’t matter.”

“I hate that,” I said.

“Then find another job.”

“I don’t want to.”

“He can’t change.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t think he’s wrong. As he told you. And he’s not lying about one thing. You did hurt Sharon.”

“I haven’t spoken with her yet.”

“She’ll tell you the same thing.”

“I know.”

“Then why ask?”

I laughed. “You only say that because you stayed away from your own family for three years. Till they missed you enough to want you back.”

“Some of them.”

“More than not, from what you’ve said. But that’s not the way it is with my family. We’ve always been close.”

“Maybe,” Noah admitted. “But I still think you’re making a mistake.”

I didn’t. I needed to talk with Sharon, though I had to wait another two hours. She wouldn’t be any good before getting to work. She’d be rushed and focused on other things and couldn’t give me a fair answer.

She was happy to hear from me, but angry with Owen.

“He shouldn’t have done that,” she began.

“Part of me deserved it.”

“And part of me will never forgive you. But that doesn’t mean I’d be nasty.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that enough, Don.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“Don’t start getting stupid – you can’t change things. And Owen should know that.” She hesitated. “You want me to call him?”

“No!”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Sure. I always am.”

She didn’t reply, and I thought maybe I’d gone too far. But she recovered.

“I wish I had your rebound,” she said, laughing.

“Oh, come one.”

“No. Really. I’ll be out on a date with someone, and if he even jokes with a waiter too long, I get suspicious. Or wonder why he really got divorced. Or why he’s never married.”

“Guys always joke with waiters,” I assured her. “They’re just being guys. I’d worry more about the ones who kid with women.”

She sighed. “I worry about that, too.”

We both laughed, and the reason I’d called seemed pretty well settled. It didn’t seem to deserve more time.

“I spoke with Jamie last night,” I told her.

“Last night?”

“Late. She left a message to call.”

“And you didn’t phone me back?”

“This was late. Way late. Like two AM, your time.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She was working on a paper and needed a break.”

“Did she finish?”

“Has she ever not?”

“No.”

I laughed. “Has either of our kids ever really disappointed us?”

“Well...”

“More than anyone else’s?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Then I’m coming home.”

“What!”

I knew she’d take that hard, but I pushed on. “Scoot will be okay,” I insisted. “I’m sure of it. I’m sure he’s lying suntanned on some beach in Mexico, having a good old time. I’m sure he’ll laugh his ass of when he finds out what he put us through. If I don’t beat it first. I’ve done everything I can here. Honest. I’ll file a police report just to be safe. Then I’m coming home.”

“When?”

“Tonight. I’m sure I can get a ticket.”

“No. When are you filing the report?”

“This morning. Later. It’s still pretty early.”

“There must be something else...”

“There’s nothing I can think of.”

“Please wait.”

“Why?”

“Why not? You’ve gone this far.”

“And I want to come home. I’ve got other things to do.”

“Better things?”

“No. Nothing’d be better than finding Scoot.”

“Then wait another day. Maybe through the weekend...”

“It’s a dead end, Shar.”

I flinched as I said ‘dead’ and immediately regretted it.

She calmly went on. “Then for no other reason than I’m asking.”

I laughed. “You been using that a lot lately.”

She laughed right back. “I still have certain privileges.”

“I suppose. Just don’t depend on them.” But she knew I didn’t mean it.

“I just have this feeling, Don. With the end of the month coming...”

“You and your damned omens.”

“Yeah,” she admitted.

I waited. But I could have predicted the seconds till I caved.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll hold off one more day. But I’m making a reservation for tomorrow night.”

“You’ll appreciate me for this.”

“I’ll talk with you tonight.”

“Thanks. And go sit by the pool for a while. Do something you want to while you’re there.”

I laughed. “It’s not like I need your permission.”

When I finished with Sharon, it was only six-thirty. Between my call to her and the one to Noah, I’d napped maybe an hour-or-so. But it was still too early, in California, to make more calls. Though the credit card companies were national, so I did my daily checks. And Scoot’s bank had an 800 number which I’d found his password for, carelessly stored in his computer. But there were no changes. I didn’t expect he’d suddenly start using his cell phone, either, though I’d have to wait till later to confirm that. I’d stop by the office on my way to the police station.

I showered. I ate. I made a plane reservation for the redeye Friday night. I knew Amy would go out to dinner with me, to say goodbye. But it was too early to phone. I changed out of Scoot’s T-shirt and jeans and into my business clothes and quickly checked his e-mail. And all my plans for the rest of the morning shifted near nine-thirty when I got another call from Julie Kent.