Finally, he lets out a quiet sigh. “Drive safe.”
“You too. I’ll see you soon?”
His confidence seems to return as quickly as it left because his voice is firm when he says, “You will. Good night, Hollie.” He closes my door and gives me a little wave through the window. I expect him to walk to his own car, but he waits as I pull out of my parking spot. I check my rearview mirror when I reach the parking lot’s exit, and he’s standing in the exact same place, his hands jammed in the pockets of his coat.
Could it be I’m not the only one who’s confused by this whole ‘just friends’ thing?
CHAPTER TEN
The next day, Jordy has a half day at school and is supposed to spend the afternoon at the center. When she doesn’t show up, I call her cell phone, which goes straight to voicemail. I leave a message and try again an hour later with the same results.
She doesn’t show up for her after-school shift on Tuesday either, and my calls continue to go to voicemail. When I come out of a late meeting, my assistant has left a message on my desk from Jordy:Sorry for missing my last two shifts. I’ll try to be there tomorrow and will explain everything then.
I’m relieved she’s okay, and yet I can’t help the niggly little voice of worry creeping into my thoughts. That worry intensifies on Wednesday morning when I receive a call from the administrative assistant at Jordy’s school.
“You’re listed as one of Jordyn Jenkins’ emergency contacts,” he says. “She hasn’t been at school this week, and we’ve been unable to reach her or her father.”
“I haven’t seen her this week,” I tell him. “She missed her shifts at work on Monday and Tuesday, and her cell goes straight to voicemail.”
“Do you think her absence is a cause for concern?” he asks.
Absolutely. “No,” I lie, hoping my rising anxiety isn’t obvious in my tone. “She left a message yesterday saying she’d be here for work today, so I’m sure she’s fine.”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. I’m about to ask if he’s still there when he releases a quiet sigh. “Since you’re listed as one of Jordy’s emergency contacts, I don’t think it’s out of line to tell you this has happened before. Jordy had a prolonged absence in September and, since she has an open file with Children’s Aid, we had to call them to do a wellness check.”
“What happened?”
“We were only notified that she was fine, but no other details were given. She returned to school the next week and it hasn’t happened again until this week.”
Worry twists my stomach into knots. “Okay. Can you give me a chance to track her down before notifying Children’s Aid? If I can’t find her today, I’ll call the school tomorrow to let you know.”
He agrees, and we end the call.
Jordy doesn’t like talking about her home life, but she’s mentioned Children’s Aid case workers a few times; one was assigned to her family after Jordy’s brother was sent to jail, and her sister has one too. I’d prefer not to get them involved unless it’s absolutely necessary. Jordy will be eighteen in a few months and she’ll be graduating from high school soon after that. I’d hate to see her life upended if it was recommended that she be put in a group home or foster care for such a short time. I have a terrible feeling she’d run away before she let that happen anyway.
I keep trying Jordy’s cell to no avail. As soon as I’m able to take a lunch break, I hop in my car and drive to Jordy’s house. Mr. Jenkins’ truck is in the driveway, which I hope is a good sign someone is home. It’s only after I’ve rung the doorbell that I remember he works night shifts and is likely sleeping.
All the curtains are drawn and it’s quiet inside. I wring my hands, wondering if I should press the bell again. I’ve only met Mr. Jenkins a couple of times and the encounters were brief, but they left me with a bad taste in my mouth. He’s not a pleasant man at the best of times, and I bet he’s even less so when he’s woken up during the day.
I’m about to return to my car when the door flies open. Mr. Jenkins stands there, squinting in the sunlight, his whole body swaying before he grips the edge of the door. For a second, I think he’s sick and I almost feel a sense of relief; maybe he and Jordy have the flu that’s going around and that’s why she’s been MIA. Then the smell hits me: unwashed body and alcohol.
“S-sorry, Mr. Jenkins, I forgot about your work schedule. I was just looking for Jordy. She hasn’t been at school or work the last few days.”
“Work schedule,” he says with a scoff that turns into a hacking cough. “I don’t have a work schedule. Not anymore.” At my confused look, he exhales sharply, his booze breath nearly knocking me back. “Don’t you listen to the news, girlie? Or are you too busy interfering in people’s lives and being a do-gooder?”
I open my mouth, but no words come. Which of those things do I address first?
Before I can form a reply, Mr. Jenkins says, “Major layoffs at the factory. You’d think I’d have been safe since I gave themtwenty stinkin’ yearsof my life, but guess not.” He pats the pockets of his ratty housecoat. From the stench of stale smoke mixed with alcohol, I’m guessing he’s hunting for cigarettes.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Jordy didn’t mention anything about it.” I don’t give him a chance to respond before using the segue to ask, “Speaking of Jordy, do you know where she is?”
“At her sister’s place.” He waves a dismissive hand and slumps against the doorframe as if he’s tired of this conversation already. “Baby’s sick or hurt or something. Jordyn went to watch the other one while her sister took the baby to the ER.”
Despite ‘the baby’ and ‘the other one’ being his grandchildren, he shows no interest or concern. From what Jordy has told me about his parenting style, it shouldn’t surprise me he’s not a doting, loving grandfather.
“Okay, well, can you please tell her I was trying to reach her? And have her call me when she can?” I give him a shaky smile and turn on my heel. Between the smell wafting from him and the hard stare he’s giving me, I need to get out of here.
“What did we ever do before you?” Mr. Jenkins’ voice is quiet, but the sarcasm is unmistakable. I stop in my tracks, although I can’t bring myself to face him again. “How lucky is Jordyn to have you as the angel on her shoulder? Givin’ her a job, feedin’ her, putting big ideas in her head. Hey, while you’re giving handouts, how do you feel about writing me a check? I promise to use it for rent, food, and other necessities. Our cell phones were cut off on the weekend and the power bill is overdue. Company says they’ll be cutting the lights any day.”
