I looked down at the phone in my hand and fought with myself
about what I should do. It had been three weeks since that morning and things
couldn’t have been any more of a mess. Peter was furious with Jeff, something
that I was still trying to understand; I was still jumping at every sound and
finding it hard to focus, which wasn’t a good thing since school had started.
But what had me the most concerned was Jeff. He had met with Rosamund’s parents
a week after that morning and ever since then, he had hidden away in his room.
The only time I had seen him was when he had gotten his stitches out. That had
been a week ago and the only way I knew that he was still okay, was that Maggie
wasn’t crying hysterically and every once in a while, I would hear him close his
door or there would be evidence of him making a bottle in the kitchen.
I had tried several times to beg him to come out or to let
me in but he never answered me. Part of me understood that maybe he needed time
alone to sort out what had happened, but then there was a part of me that
worried that for the better part of two weeks, he hadn’t really emerged from
his bedroom. I knew he was hurting and he didn’t want to talk to me and I had
tried to get Peter to talk to him but he had scoffed at the idea.
As each day had passed, I worried more and more about him
being locked in his room until I had finally reached the point where I was at
that moment; holding my phone wondering if I should call the only person I
could think of that could help him. I knew he would be mad at me for butting
in, but I was to the point that my worry for him was greater than my concern
about him getting mad.
I took a big breath and selected the number and as I
listened to the ringing, I started to once again question if I was making the
right decision.
“Hi, Bridge?”
“Oh, hi Star!” She suddenly got quiet and very serious.
“What’s wrong? Something’s wrong isn’t it? You wouldn’t be calling me if there
wasn’t. . .”
I sighed. “He’s locked himself and Maggie in his room,
Bridge. And I know that he’s upset and embarrassed, and who knows what else,
but it’s been over three weeks. . .He came out to get his stiches removed and
then he went right back to locking himself away.”
“Is he taking care of Maggie?” She wondered.
“That I can tell, yes. But I have to wonder about himself. I
know he’s not eating much, there’s hardly any food missing from the fridge and
he spends so little time outside the room, he doesn’t have time to make himself
anything.”
“Shit.” She sighed. “I worried he’d do this, since he holds
stuff in.” She paused for a moment. “And you’ve tried to talk to him?”
“Yes, repeatedly. I’ve begged him to come out. I just don’t
know what else to do. . .”
“I’ll be there in the morning. I need to see if Mom can
watch my four during the days while Carson’s at work. I’m sure she’ll agree,
but I need to make sure everything’s in order here before I travel there.”
“Okay.”
“And Star?”
