workers were pulling out in droves. He knew they needed him.”
“And Tyler and I didn’t? And now we’re the ones paying the price!”
Not as much as the kidnapped school boys, Amanda thought. Anger was never far from the surface these days, and now she felt it bubbling through her, tugging at her thin, fraying reins of control. She tamped it down. “I know you are. So is Phil,” was all she said.
Sheri snatched up the plate and stalked back into the living room. “Why do you think I’ve tried so hard? I know he’s a good guy and if he’s got a fault, it’s that he cares too much. He can’t turn his back on suffering.” To Amanda’s surprise, tears welled in Sheri’s eyes. Sheri was seasoned and strong, and tears didn’t come easily.
Amanda softened. “So what happened, Sheri? What’s this about?”
The tears hovered on her lashes. For a long moment she said nothing. Took one breath. Two. “I turned my back,” she whispered.
Amanda said nothing. Waited.
“I didn’t mean to. I needed … a friend. At first it was just for Tyler. This friend. He was Tyler’s hockey coach and kind of took Tyler under his wing while Phil was away. Later we’d all go out for pizza after the game, and he fixed a few things around the house here. Shovelled the drive during that awful winter last year.” Sheri broke off. She picked up her wine with a trembling hand, brought the glass to her lips, and drained it. Once again, Amanda fought her own rising temper.
“Nothing happened. I mean, not then. When Phil came home, the guy backed off. But Tyler … Phil spent long hours out in the bush, fishing, riding his dirt bike, doing I never knew what.”
“You don’t have to tell me all this, Sheri. I get it.”
Sheri must have heard the grit in her voice, for she shot her a glance. Flushed. “No, you don’t! Because I didn’t want it to happen! I know that sounds like a cliché, but I love Phil. He’s Tyler’s father. Tyler needs him, not some hockey coach! But the Phil who came home was a stranger. He pushed us both away. Tyler didn’t understand why my friend no longer did things with him and why his own father ignored him. This cold, brooding, Mr. Unreliable was hurting my son.”
Don’t pretend you did this for Tyler, Amanda wanted to say, but she held her tongue. “Our work is brutal on relationships,” she managed, strangling on her self-control.
“You can’t imagine how helpless I felt,” Sheri said. Then she paused, as if she heard herself. Flushed. “I’m sorry, I guess you can.”
“Yes.”
“And I know my problems sound trivial compared to Phil’s and yours. They are trivial! But … but …” She raised her hands in futile defeat.
“Okay, so what happened? You started seeing the guy and Phil found out?”
Sheri thrust her chin out. She had always been a fighter and hated to be cornered. Amanda’s challenge was enough to energize her. “No. I finally realized I couldn’t help Phil if he wouldn’t let me, but I could help my son. So I told Phil I was leaving him.”
“When?”
“A week ago. I told him I’d met someone. I thought maybe it would be the jolt he needed. He wanted to know who, but I wouldn’t tell him.”
“And how did he …?” Amanda let the silence hang, too upset to trust herself with more words. The image of Phil in Nigeria, haunted and hollow, rose before her.
“He took off into the bush for four days, and when he came back, he said I was right. He’d been a bastard and he was glad I’d found someone who treated me better. But he still wanted to be a good father to Tyler, so he hoped the father-son camping trip was still on.”
Amanda felt a sliver of fear slip through her gut. Tyler had never been part of the plan. She and Phil couldn’t predict what demons would be dredged up, what drunken rages and howling tears, what cathartic challenges the wind and the cliffs and the surf would hurl at them. It was not an adventure for a child.
But now Phil had cut her out and had taken off with his son, after feeding Sheri a pile of lies about forgiveness, understanding, and fatherly concern. Amanda knew Phil. He had always loved Sheri, but during the deepest darkness of Nigeria, he had clung to her memory like a drowning man. Afterward, he had ignored the advice of counsellors and debriefers in his headlong rush to get back to her.
Five days to put all that behind him, to master his rage and despair, and to reach a state of calm forgiveness?
Not a chance.
Instinctively she snapped her fingers to call her dog to her, so that she could sink her fingers into her soft, warm fur. Reading her distress, Kaylee nuzzled her and licked her hand. Amanda took a deep breath, stepped back from her fear, and rallied her common sense.
“What gear did he pack?”
“Camping stuff — tent, sleeping bags, cooking gear, life jackets.”
“Boat? Kayaks?”
Sheri shook her head. “Those are still out back. He said you guys would rent what you need.”
“Navigational gear? Sat phone, personal-locator beacons, GPS?”
“You know Phil. He likes the old-fashioned way.”
“Didn’t he at least take his cellphone? I’ve been texting him and he’s not answering.”
Sheri shrugged. “I haven’t seen it. He may have it on him, but it could be turned off. He does that when he doesn’t want to talk to people.”
Amanda pulled out her own phone. “We should check in the house. If it’s turned on, we’ll hear it. We might find some clues too.” She punched in Phil’s number. She listened for ringing as she walked through the kitchen and dining area into the small den. The house was neat and full of local art from their travels, but no maps or guidebooks had been left on the tables to provide clues. When Phil’s cheerful voicemail message came on, she dialled again.
“Do you mind if I check upstairs in your bedroom? It’s ringing, so it’s turned on. He may have left it there.”
Sheri waved her hand in permission. “Since you called this morning, I’ve pretty much torn the place apart, but be my guest. Phil’s been staying in the spare room since he came back from Nigeria. He has trouble sleeping so he’s often up reading or watching TV. He says he feels better not disturbing me.”
Amanda nodded. The depths of night were always the worst, when the wakeful mind filled the darkness with fiery images, screams, and the incessant yammer of self-doubt. She mounted the stairs, listening for a phone. Kaylee bounded ahead of her as Amanda had taught her, providing comforting reassurance that no danger lay ahead. Phil’s little room was a mess; bedding was flung back, drawers opened, and clothing strewn about. Papers were spilled all over the desk, and Phil’s laptop was open.
Sheri came up behind her. “I tried it,” she said. “But he must have changed his password. It used to be ‘password.’”
They both shared a spontaneous grin. How
