Page 88 of Then Came the Fall
“Unfortunately, Matt has seen better days.” I put my arm around Brett. “But the part that wasn’t quite true was that we’re a family. I mean,” I quickly go on, “I love them like family. But Matt’s in a relationship. Brett’s mommy is a famous actress, isn’t that right?”
Brett shrugs. “She’s in California,” her little voice mumbles.
“She’s working on a Netflix series,” I continue. “And I’ve been helping out around the house while she’s away.”
“Do you work for them?” Dottie’s face contorts, confused.
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. We’re just great friends, like always.”
“Well.” Dottie leans forward. “I’m sorry for saying so, but I think everyone here expected the two of you to end up together. You were both so in love.”
Brett looks at me, eyebrows raised, a tiny smirk on her face.
“And, I’m very sorry to hear that he’s not well,” Dottie tells Brett. “Your daddy was quite the charmer in his day. When he was still a boy,he had Taylor and my daughter both so smitten with him that they had a fist fight! Can you imagine, two young girls fighting over a boy like that?”
Brett laughs. “Really?” she asks.
“It’s true,” I concur. “That’s a story for another time, though. Speaking of which,” I pause, lifting my backpack up off the floor and digging through the small pocket to find my phone, “I wonder what time it is.” I swipe and hit the screen with my thumb. It reads 2:46 p.m. Just beneath the time is an alert.Three missed calls. Matt. Matt. Matt.
“I’m sorry, Dottie, but it looks like Matt called to check in while we were chatting. I’m just going to give him a quick call back.”
“Of course,” she replies, standing and collecting the empty dishes before retreating to the kitchen.
I dial him back, curious at the fact that he didn’t leave a voicemail.
One ring. Two.
Three.
Four.
A recording. “Hey, it’s Matt. Sorry I missed you. Leave a message at the beep.”
“Matt, hi, it’s me,” I say. “I just saw that I missed a bunch of calls from you. I brought Brett out to camp for our hooky day. Hope everything’s okay. I guess give me a call when you get this.”
“Everything all right?” Dottie asks.
“He didn’t answer,” I say, “but I’m sure it’s fine.” I try to sound convincing, but as I sit there listening to Dottie tell more stories about the rich history of camp, I become increasingly distracted.
It’s not like Matt to not leave a message.
My pulse pounds in my ears, and I note the squeak of the dusty old ceiling fan and the ambient buzz of the fluorescent light fixture.They grow in volume, drowning out Dottie’s words and Brett’s gentle laughter.
I text Matt.Hey, you good?I hit send.
Three dots appear, along with a read receipt below the text. I exhale a sigh of relief. Then, the dots disappear.
I wait.
No message comes.
I type a single question mark and hit send.
He reads it.
No response.
Something’s not right.A knot forms in the pit of my stomach.
