Monday Morning

Dialing her number, I press the button putting my phone on speaker. Then pour myself a coffee and pop two pieces of rye bread in the toaster, waiting for my daughter to answer. We talk almost every morning since she left home.

I am startled as an unfamiliar voice on the other end answers and say's. "Hello, who am I speaking with?"

It didn't sound like Lily.

Taken back I reply. "I am calling for Lily."

A female voice speaks. "This is constable Millan. May I ask who this is?"

Realizing my mistake, I quickly answer. "Sorry, I must have dialed your number by accident."

Before I disconnect, the person on the other end calls out. "No, do not hang up. You have the correct number. As I mentioned, I am Constable Millan, and I am talking on Lily's phone."

Now I'm confused. "Why do you have her phone?"

"Sir, I was looking through her contacts when you called."

I try to process what is happening. Taking I deep breath I slowly ask. "Where is Lily?"

"Sir, before I can answer any questions I need you to tell me who you are."

Steam rolls off my coffee cup, disappearing into nothing. A clock in the other room ticks away the moments. "I am her father, that should have popped up when the phone rang."

She is quick to answer.

"Sir, my name is Marie, I am a police officer. May I ask you your name."

“Is she under arrest? Don’t tell me she was one of those protesters at the University.”

The voice becomes direct. “Sir, before we continue I need you to confirm your name, please.”

"Mark...Mark Wallen." My heart beats faster, but I am unable to say anything else.

"Mark, I am going to ask you a few questions if that is okay?"

In a daze, my eyes are drawn to particles of dust dancing in a beam of morning sun. "Sure."

"Can you tell me Lily's birthday."

My mind goes blank, how come I can’t remember? It was a bright spring morning... 8:10 a.m.

"May 15th."

"And the year, Mark?"

"2001."

"Thank you Mark, I have a few more questions if..."

Cutting Marie off. "Where is Lily, where is my daughter?"

"Mark, I cannot answer that at this time, can you please confirm your address?"

Anger surges forth. "The hell I will, where is my daughter?"

"Sir, your address please?"

There was something in her voice that makes me realize this isn't a conversation she wishes to have with me, there is empathy. I give her our address.

"Thank you Mark, we just needed the conformation. A car is already on route to your home, they will be there soon."

My mind floods with thoughts, I begin blurting them out. "Is she alright, is Lily hurt, arrested, was she in an accident?"

"Mark, I apologize. I am not at liberty to go into details…."

"Bullshit, let me talk to someone who will tell me something." I yell. "Where is my daughter?"

"Mark, the officers will explain everything when they arrive. “

“Officers? Do I need to call a lawyer?”

Our kitchen over looks our back yard, I glance up when I hear the creak of the screen door and I watch as my wife enters. Smiling, she removes her gardening gloves and tosses them on the table by the door. I stare into her eyes, there is a smudge of dirt on her right cheek from the soil.

She glances at the phone propped up in front of me. "Is that Lily? Tell her I just planted her namesake.” She calls out “Hey lily pad."

I shake my head. She see's my face and knows right away something is wrong. I don't know what to say, then Maries voice breaks the silence. "Mark, is someone there with you?"

I pull a chair out for my wife to sit. "Yes, my wife, Shannon. Lily's mom.”

Marie introduces herself. It only takes seconds for Shannon to realize our life just changed. Our house suddenly seems so small, the walls closer than they were this morning, the ceiling not as high as they once were.

Time stands still, every movement an effort, every action crawls in slow motion. The hollow sound of my breathing echoes within my head. Yet I have this urge to leave the room and jump in my car. Go and find my daughter, but fear I’ll miss an important part of the conversation between Shannon and Marie.

There has to be an answer, yet I cannot make sense of anything.

Glancing over to my wife, tears flow freely down her face, streaking the dirt on her cheek, like smeared mascara. No sound, her eyes stare out the window, I follow her gaze. We see the glow of sunshine upon the newly planted flowers. Bees are already drawn to the pollen, nestling within the soft white petals.

The faraway sounds of the clock ticks away the memories of our life together.

Marie won't tell us anything else and deep down I truly no longer want to know. I stand behind my wife, holding her shoulders. Shannon reaches up and places her hand upon mine. I feel the warmth, in some small way it gives me strength.

Maries voice becomes soft. "The officers tell me they have arrived. I'll have to hang up now. I am… so sorry."

Emptiness covers the room, like a heavy blanket in the dark.

The toaster pops and startles me, I stare in that direction and watch as a tendril of smoke spirals upward. The smell of burnt toast lingers in the air.

In the deep silence, a faint knocking echoes in the distance. I wipe the smudge from Shannon’s cheek and help her rise. Hand in hand we lean against each other and walk to the door.

Thank you,

Jason

This is from an earlier story of mine that has been adapted for the 'Just a Minute' challenge.