I stared at my phone for several minutes.
One hundred and forty missed calls.
I had never seen anything like it.
Most came from Brandon.
The rest were from Melissa.
There were also several messages from unknown numbers.
I knew some of them belonged to relatives.
I placed the phone on the desk and looked at Evelyn's photograph.
She was still smiling.
I wondered what she would have said about all this.
Perhaps she would have told me to calm down.
Perhaps she would have reminded me that our son was still our son.
But I couldn't ask her anymore.
I picked up the phone.
There was another call coming through.
Brandon.
I answered.
"Dad! Where are you?"
His voice was louder than usual.
"I'm safe."
"That's not what I asked. Where are you?"
"I'm somewhere comfortable."
He went quiet.
Then I heard Melissa speaking in the background.
"Ask him which hotel!"
Brandon covered the phone briefly.
I could still hear them.
"Why did you leave without telling anybody?"
I leaned back against the chair.
"I wanted some time alone."
"You can't just disappear like that."
I looked at the suitcase beside the wardrobe.
"I didn't disappear, Brandon. I went somewhere."
"You didn't tell us."
"I didn't think I needed permission."
He sighed.
"That's not what I mean."
I waited.
"We've been calling you all evening."
"I noticed."
"One hundred and forty times, Dad. Do you understand how worried we've been?"
I looked at the screen.
The number was still there.
"That's a lot of calls."
He sounded frustrated.
"Where are you staying?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Are you at a hotel?"
"Yes."
"Which one?"
I didn't answer.
He lowered his voice.
"Listen, Dad. We need to talk about this."
"About what?"
"Your leaving."
I almost smiled.
He had wanted me to become financially independent.
Now he seemed upset that I had actually gone somewhere without consulting him.
"I'm tired, Brandon."
"Then come home. We can discuss everything tomorrow."
I looked at Evelyn's photograph again.
"Your mother isn't there anymore."
The line became quiet.
I regretted saying it.
Not because it wasn't true.
Because I knew it hurt.
But it was also true that I had spent the last few days being treated as though my grief were an inconvenience.
Brandon finally spoke.
"I know, Dad."
I closed my eyes.
"Good night."
"Wait. Just tell me where you are."
"I'll call you tomorrow."
I ended the call.
For a few seconds, I held the phone in my hand.
Then I switched it to silent.
I wasn't trying to frighten anyone.
I simply needed a night without questions.
I took Evelyn's photograph from the desk and placed it beside the bed.
Her blue dress looked brighter under the lamp.
I remembered that anniversary.
She had spent nearly an hour deciding what to wear.
I had told her she looked beautiful before we even left the house.
She had laughed.
"You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
I wished I could have another ordinary evening with her.
Just one.
I eventually fell asleep.
The following morning, I woke around seven.
My phone was still silent.
There were more messages.
Brandon had written several times.
Melissa had sent one asking whether I needed anything.
I made coffee using the small machine in the room.
Then I sat beside the window.
I didn't answer immediately.
I wanted to think before speaking.
At nine, I called Margaret.
She answered quickly.
"Good morning, Robert."
"Good morning."
"How are you?"
"Better than yesterday."
"Did you get some rest?"
"Enough."
I told her about the calls.
She listened without interrupting.
Then she asked whether I had told Brandon where I was staying.
"No."
"That's your decision. Just make sure someone you trust knows you're safe."
"I understand."
We discussed the property documents.
She reminded me that the company remained the legal owner.
She also told me that any change to the family's occupancy arrangement would need to follow the proper procedures.
I agreed.
I didn't want to do anything in haste.
Before we ended the call, I asked her to keep the documents ready.
"I'll need another meeting soon."
"Of course."
Afterward, I finally answered Brandon's message.
"I'm safe. I'll contact you when I'm ready to talk."
He replied almost immediately.
"Please call me. We are worried."
I read the message twice.
Then I put the phone down.
I wondered whether he was worried about me.
Or worried about the fact that he no longer knew where I was.
I couldn't be certain.
And I didn't want to assume the worst.
But I had learned something during those first forty-eight hours.
People could become very concerned when the person they had taken for granted suddenly stopped being available.
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: My Daughter-in-Law Finally Asked Where I Had Gone, but Her Questions Revealed What She Was Really Worried About
My Son Chose the Hour After His Mother’s Burial to Tell Me I Was No Longer Worth Supporting
Part 9 of 20
