Page 62 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

“We need to get home,” Josh says, wild-eyed.

“We need to get home in one piece. Let me drive so you can focus on what your mom is saying.”

“Fine,” he says, before swerving onto the shoulder.

Grabbing the panic bar, I tell myself that it’s a good thing we’re no longer on one of the cliff-hugging mountain roads. Moments later, I’m driving, and Josh has disconnected the call from the car. Part of me wants to ask if he can put it on speaker so I can hear too, but it’s now my job to get us home—well, back to his parents’ house, anyway—safely.

“Okay. Don’t worry, Mom. It’s not your fault. These things happen.” He leans over to peer at the map. “We’re close. I’ll see you soon. Love you too.”

He disconnects the call and when I glance over, he’s just staring straight ahead.

“What happened?”

His fist is at his mouth, flexing around his phone so hard that the veins on the back of his hand stick out. “I fucked up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t leave these kids. They’re too young. My parents are too old to take care of them.”

My heart skitters around in my chest like it’s looking for a place to hide. “What happened, Josh?”

When he doesn’t answer, I glance over again. He’s still staring straight ahead, his jaw flexed like he’s grinding his teeth. I reach over to try and squeeze his shoulder, but he bats my arm away. “Mabel’s lost, okay? Apparently, the cat got out early this morning and they all went looking for her. After knocking on doors in the neighborhood, they went back to the house and then”—he breaks off, his nostrils flaring, lips pressed together—“and then my parents realized Mabel wasn’t with them.”

“She went looking for Jenny Linsky by herself,” I say softly.

“Seems like that’s what happened, yeah,” he says, his tone so sharp with sarcasm that I flinch. “My mom was so flustered I couldn’t get more out of her. They called the police, so”—he blows out a shaky breath—“I guess that’s good.”

Just as I’m about to say something inane like I’m so sorry this happened, he slams his hand onto the dashboard. “Fuck!”

I can’t know what he’s feeling. I’ll never know. But I’m sure he’s regretting going away this weekend and now is not the time to remind him that self-care is important for parents. So I put all my attention on getting us back to Climax as quickly and safely as possible.

The minute we turn onto his street, we see the flashing lights of police cars. They’re in the driveway and in front of the house, so I have to stop in the middle of the street. Before I can tell him that he can get out and I’ll park the car, he swears again.

“What is it?”

He stares at an older couple talking to his parents on the front lawn. “Lisa’s parents are here.” His head shaking, he mutters, “This was such a fucking mistake.”

And then, without even looking at me, he gets out of the car and sprints for the house.

Josh's words echo in my ears as I watch him embrace his mother on their front lawn. He is right. The children should be his first priority. I’d hoped to be by his side instead of another mistake in his life, butmylife has proven that you can’t always get what you want.

Clearly, there’s no place for me here, but it’s not until a policeman tells me that I need to move out of the way that I realize I don’t have a way to leave, because I left my own car at CPR for the weekend. After parking Josh’s car as close to the house as I can, I get out and search up and down the street. As I wonder if I can catch a ride to my car with a safety officer, I realize that people are gathering around a fire truck.

As I draw near, a firefighter holds up a map with a section outlined in red. “You here to search?”

Fire truck. Jenny Linsky.Pickles.

Instead of taking the map, I turn around and run to the house, bits and pieces from Mabel’s collection of Cat Club books connecting like a puzzle in my brain. InThe School for Cats, Jenny is sent away from New York City to live in the country. Just like we did, Mabel told me.

Without even knocking, I slip through the Harmons’ front door and head for the living room, where I immediately find clues to support my theory: an abandoned toy fire truck and sooty cat pawprints near the fireplace and then heading out of the room. I can just picture Mabel looking up the chimney for her frightened cat and then following her prints out the door.

Needing confirmation, I follow the sound of voices to the kitchen, but I hesitate just outside the room, my hunch suddenly feeling ridiculous. What will I say?Excuse me, but I think the lost child is re-enacting the plot from a story book?

Yeah, no. They’d laugh in my face.

Stepping away from the kitchen, I head for the back door instead.

In the book, after falling out of the chimney and escaping outdoors, Jenny Linsky goes on quite a few adventures. As night falls, she ends up in a forest. Kind of like the one behind the Harmons’ house. It’s getting darker and chillier by the minute, so I click the flashlight app on my phone and step into the woods.

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