Matt & Zoe by Charles Sheehan-Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

ringing tone. My parents have had the same phone since the 1980s, an old Slimline phone mounted on the wall with a rotary dial in the handset, heavy enough you could use it as a weapon. I walk across the kitchen and snatch the phone off the wall.
    “Hello?”
    “Miss Welch?”
    Without pause I say, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Welch passed away last week. This is her daughter Zoe.” I’ve already had to say those words to the cable company and a credit card company who called wondering why their payments hadn’t arrived on time. This week I need to sort out Mom and Dad’s personal effects and bank accounts and everything else. I’ve been putting that off for days and days. And I don’t have a clue where to start.
    Not. One. Clue.
    The caller coughed, then said, “I’m sorry… I know. Miss… Zoe… this is Matt Paladino.”
    Matt Paladino? Who?
    One second later it hits. “Oh! Mister Paladino! Hi, what can I do for you?”
    “Well, I wanted to check in with you about Jasmine.”
    “Okay. How have the last few days been?”
    He stumbles over his words a little. “She’s—well—she—” He takes a deep breath, almost comical. “She’s not doing well. Just… listless. She’s not playing much with the other girls, and not as animated in class.”
    I breathe out. Then I speak at a near-whisper. “Same as at home. She’s not interested in anything except her horse. I can’t get her to talk or play any games or eat.”
    “What is she normally interested in?”
    The question makes me want to lash out in frustration. I don’t know! How am I supposed to say that to a complete stranger? How am I supposed to tell a complete stranger, her teacher for Christ’s sake, that I don’t know much of anything about my little sister?
    “Miss Welch? Are you there?”
    “Please,” I say, grasping for time. “Don’t call me that. Zoe is fine.”
    “Zoe… can you think of anything I can do here that might engage her?”
    Nicole’s face tilts in extreme concern. Because of the tears. On my face.
    “I don’t know,” I whisper. “You don’t understand… I’ve been away in the Army for five years. Since I graduated high school. No idea what she likes, or what she does, or what she’s interested in. I don’t know her favorite color or ice cream or anything except that damn monster horse.”
    On the other end of the line, I hear his intake of breath, his intake of judgment. He doesn’t say what I might have expected. “Maybe that’s the best place to start then. With the horses. You know she draws them all the time. Especially a big black one. Or at least she did last year. We haven’t had many opportunities for art the first couple of days of school.”
    I nod, slowly exhaling. “Yes. You’re right, of course.”
    “Do you ride?”
    “Yeah. I’m not as much into it as she is, but our Mom trained horses and gave lessons. You can’t grow up in our house and not know horses.” Now Nicole looks impatient, wanting to hear whatever Mister P’s side of the conversation is.
    He chuckles. “I grew up around animals too. I hear you.”
    “Farm?”
    He doesn’t answer the question. “I’ll talk to the Principal and the counselor tomorrow. Maybe we can change up our curriculum plans for the next few weeks. I’d like to see her more engaged. And Miss Welch… Zoe I mean…”
    “Yes?”
    “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s not your fault. You were off wherever you were—that’s what happens. Just take care of her now. She’s a great kid. I hate seeing her so… despondent. Can I suggest… if you aren’t busy, why don’t you stop in at 11:30 tomorrow and have lunch with her? The kids love it when parents—I mean family—” He sighs. “You know what I mean. I think it would help.”
    I blink back tears. Again. Damn it. Now Nicole’s going to want to hug me when I get off the phone, and I don’t think I can take that.
    “Okay. I’ll be there.”
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