She shrugged. “Sometimes you don’t know when you’ve gotten someone’s attention. Whoever this is doesn’t seem like a nice person. Be careful.”
On any other day, I would have blown it off. But after the weird encounter with Frisbee Guy in the park, I was feeling vulnerable. I went back into my apartment, making sure the door was locked. My desire to take a nap was long gone. Now I was too keyed up.
I recalled the wedged-open inner door. Was that how the person had gotten in? But if so, how did they know where I lived? My mouth went dry. Was someone stalking me? I shook my head. Why would someone be stalking me? I was nobody. What if it was my ex and it was some fucked-up way of gettingback at me for leaving him? But it had been twelve years, and I hadn’t heard a peep out of him.
My heart was racing and my hands started to shake. I didn’t know what to do. “Tony,” I whispered. Tony was the voice of reason. He had experience with this stuff. He’d know what to do.
I pulled out my phone to call him, but before I could hit his number, it started to vibrate with a call. It was an unknown number. I almost let it go to voicemail until I realized it was a call to my business number.
I swiped to answer, “Hello, Greg Hayden speaking.”
There was a moment of silence before a woman’s voice said tentatively, “Greg?”
My anxiety turned to irritation, and the tone of my voice was somewhat less than professional. “Yes, this is Greg. Can I help you?”
“It’s Becky.”
“Becky wh…?” My throat constricted. “Becky? As in my sister?”
“Yes. It’s me,” she said quietly.
I drifted into my living room on wobbly legs and sank onto the couch. “Where are you? Are you still in Pennsylvania?” Becky was two years younger than me. She’d graduated from high school the year I left Rutgers to go live with my then-boyfriend. She’d gone to community college for nursing and had been doing well.
A year into her degree, she’d met a guy who’d convinced her to move to Pennsylvania with him. I’d argued with her about it. I’d told her she should at least finish her nursing degree first. She, of course, threw in my face that I’d left university to be with my boyfriend. She’d left New Jersey the next day. I’d tried calling her dozens of times, but she’d blocked my number. When I tried calling again a few months later, a stranger had answered andsaid I had the wrong number. Becky had changed her number. I’d heard nothing from her after that.
Becky let out a long sigh. “No, I’m not in Pennsylvania anymore. I left Jerry six years ago. I’m living in Delaware now.”
I took a moment to process that. “What happened?”
I heard her huff out a short laugh. “You were right about Jerry. He was a loser. He wanted me to work so he could stay home and play video games with his buddy. Thank god I didn’t get pregnant by him.”
My head was whirling. “But why didn’t you call to let me know you were okay?”
“Because I was still mad at you,” she replied. “I was mad at everyone. I made the mistake of giving Mom my new number, and she started calling me, asking for money. As if I had any to spare,” she added bitterly. “I finally had to block her.”
I hummed in sympathy. “I should probably do that.”
“Yes, you should,” she replied.
I took a breath before I spoke again. “I’m trying to wrap my head around all this. I haven’t seen or heard from you in thirteen years. I get that you were angry with me, and I don’t blame you for wanting to stay away from Mom. But why so long?” I felt my throat clog with tears I refused to shed. I’d been so alone for so long.
I heard her sniffle. “I’m sorry, Greg. I really am. But I had to get my head on straight. I started drinking when I was with Jerry, and it got to be a real problem. I got arrested a few times. I almost went to jail, but the prosecutor offered probation and community service if I went to therapy and a twelve-step program. So I did. That was four years ago. I’ve been sober ever since.”
My heart swelled with pride. “Wow. That’s great. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“So, how did you end up in Delaware?” I asked.
“I moved down here after I left Jerry. I wanted to get away from him because he kept trying to get back with me. Plus, I wanted to go back to school. A friend of mine in Pennsylvania had a sister in Delaware who was looking for a roommate. I took what savings I had and moved down there. I found a decent job and went to community college to finish my associate’s degree in nursing.”
“That’s great,” I exclaimed. “So you’re working as a nurse now?”
“Well, yes, but only part-time. I decided to go on for my bachelor’s in nursing. The community college had a special program with the state university, and I was able to get grants and financial aid.”
“So you’re still in school now?” I asked.
“Yes. I graduate this May.” She hesitated before saying tentatively, “I was wondering if you’d come to my graduation.”
