Page 70 of Mother Clucker

She nodded, finally looking satisfied. “Good. And I already packed you a lunch.” She thrust a brown paper bag at me.

Smiling and feeling lighter than I had all week, I said, “That’s great, Mom. Thanks.”

28

Heather

I was driving home—to my actual home in Burbank—when my cell rang.

I smiled when I saw the name on the display, swiped the screen and put it on speaker. “Hello, Anna.”

“Hey, Heather. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get there today. I was literally walking out the door when Charlie Junior started to have nasty stuff coming out of both ends of him. And Charlie and I were starting to feel a little funky ourselves. I didn’t want to infect everyone by being at the event if we’re coming down with what CJ has.”

“It’s okay. Really. I just left the shelter. Everything went flawlessly. Em is the best. I was there with Lucy to help, along with like a dozen of your usual volunteers. I just wish you’d been there to see the success for yourself since you worked so hard setting it all up.”

“Don’t worry. I saw it all. I was watching the posts on social.” She blew out a loud breath. “And you are the one who worked so hard setting it up. I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“I was happy to help. Really.”

“So did David ever show up? When he called me yesterday, he said he would try but he couldn’t guarantee it. It all depended on how his father was doing.”

One day I’d be able to hear David Strickland’s name without it reopening the gorge in my heart. But not today.

“No, he never showed up,” I answered.

I could have left it at that and changed the subject.

Told Anna about how there was barely room to stand after one of the cast of Cold Feet posted on social where she was.

How we’d managed to fill out paperwork, and get references and approvals, for over a hundred adoptions today and how dozens more people had promised to come back next week.

How we’d even managed to find the old half blind beagle a forever home.

But instead, something had me asking, “What about David’s father? Did something happen?”

“You didn’t hear? He had another massive stroke. It’s left him unresponsive. David and his mother and his sister have been sitting vigil at his hospital bed, day and night, all week.”

In the hospital, day and night. His mother. His sister. Either one of them could have picked up his phone. Heck, even a nurse might have done it if it was ringing loudly and disturbing everyone.

Oh my gosh. I couldn’t have known about the hospital, but I at least could have given him a chance to explain, to defend himself before I jumped to conclusions.

But my heart still hurt that he hadn’t called me. If I’d meant something to him, meant anything at all to him, wouldn’t he call to tell me his dad was in a coma? That’s something someone in a relationship would share with their significant other.

Lucy. She’d blocked his number! He might have called. I wouldn’t have gotten it.

“Uh, Anna. I’m actually driving at the moment. Can I catch up with you later?”

“Sure. Of course. Talk soon.”

“Yup. Bye.” I disconnected the call, swerved to the shoulder and skidded to a stop.

Opening a web browser I searched, what happens when you block a phone number?

The answer that popped up made me sick to my stomach.

The person blocked wouldn’t know. Their texts and calls would just disappear into cyberspace, never reaching the recipient, but without the other person ever realizing they’d been blocked.

Oh my gosh. I had to undo this. How could I unblock his number?

---