Never had Carol ever used such language. The strongest word she ever used was “damn” and she always got on me when I used profanity. And now even Cheryl said “fuckin’.” I used profanity, but rarely around Carol and never around Cheryl. They were not the two people I knew.
I tried to talk to Cheryl, but she wouldn’t listen and after just a few minutes I heard sirens and someone running up the stairs.
The police never put me in handcuffs but since I didn’t live there I had to leave. I tried to explain what had happened but they were not interested. I had been asked to leave so I was required to leave.
“Not without my daughter.” I protested.
“I’m not his daughter. He’s a fuckin’ liar.” She’d said fuckin’ again.
I just looked at her, shook my head, and walked out. I walked for a long time before hailing a cab and going back to the hotel. When I got there, Grace and I talked about it. Michael arrived to take us to dinner. I chose not to go.
I tried to remember anyone named Jimmy Wilson and kept drawing a blank so I called my old boss. It was after business hours, so I called his home.
“Hello, Sammy, que pasa?” he said when he answered.
“Not much Lou. How’re tricks?”
“You know how it is; same shit different day. What’s up?”
“Do you remember someone named Jimmy Wilson working at the plant?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean much. There have been lots of people there I didn’t, and still don’t, know. Why?”
“His name came up today and I was just wondering. I was told that he worked at the plant. Can you find out?”
“If it’s important, I can try.”
“It is, Lou.”
“Okay. Give me a couple of days to do some asking around.”
Right after Lou and I finished, my phone rang.
“Hello.”
“You rotten, cheating bastard. How did you find us?” She must have kept my number over the years.
“Oh, hello Carol. It’s been a long time. How are you?” Sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
“Fuck you. Stay away from us. You hear me. Stay away.”
“Cheryl is my daughter and I want her in my life. He lied, Carol. Your boyfriend, husband, or whatever he is, lied.”
“No he didn’t. He showed me pictures.”
“Of what? Of who?”
“Fuck you, cock suck breath.” And she hung up.
‘Cock suck breath?’ Her language has certainly gotten colorful as well as descriptive.
When Grace and Michael returned, she told me that she hadn’t told Michael about any of this, but I could if I wanted to. So I did.
His first words were. “Your poor daughter. I feel so sorry for her. Holy shit, Sam. Do you want me to get her fired?”
“No. No. She might just run again and I want to find out why she left. As it turns out, I’m glad she did because otherwise I wouldn’t have met your mother. But she stole my daughter and turned her against me and I want to try to fix that. They have no idea that I know you, so let’s keep it that way for now. Let them wonder about how I found them.” We talked for a bit longer before he left. Grace went back to the studio the next day, but I stayed away. I didn’t want Carol to see me.
I wasn’t ready to get the authorities involved yet, and I now knew where they were, so I felt relatively safe in leaving until I got my ducks in a row so Grace and I flew home.
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