Читать книгу Eleven Hours - Paullina Simons - Страница 14

Rich called the office again and told Donna that he was expecting an urgent call from his wife. ‘Has she called?’ he asked. Donna said no and asked if everything was all right. Rich didn’t know how to answer that and didn’t.

Then he called home again. Ingrid had come home with Amanda. No, Ingrid said, she hadn’t heard from Didi. Yes, both kids were home and everything was fine.

‘Daddy, Daddy.’ His five-year-old was on the phone. ‘Are you coming home early for dinner?’

‘I don’t know yet, honey. Maybe.’

‘Where’s Mommy?’ Amanda asked.

‘I’m meeting Mommy for lunch. She’ll see you soon, okay? How was school?’

‘Good,’ said Amanda. ‘Mom has to see how much homework I have. I have to cut and paste a whole dinosaur.’

‘Mommy will be home soon, okay?’

‘Okay. Love you.’ Her conversation finished, Amanda hung up.

Rich smiled, returning the receiver to the headset.

Yet the empty ache inside Rich would not subside. Where was his wife? Where was his ready-to-give-birth wife? He felt ridiculous, standing at a Mobil station on 15th Street in the broiling heat. He was going through the motions of his day without having the motion of a wife.

Realizing he was dying of thirst, he went into the Mobil minimart and bought himself a six-pack of Coke and some bottled water. The drink made him feel marginally better for a few seconds.

Then Rich drove to the Valley View Mall.

Up and down, up and down, up and down the rows of cars. If she was at this mall, he’d find her. And when he found her, lost at the hair salon and having forgotten to call him, he’d yell at her till her hair turned blue.