Chapter 5
I made her a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. She ate it like it was the finest meal she had ever tasted. I watched her eat, and every bite she took was another nail in the coffin of my relationship with my son. After she fell asleep in the guest room wrapped in a clean duvet, I went into my study.
I did not sleep. I could not sleep. I sat at my mahogany desk and opened my laptop. I needed to know where they were. Training camp was a lie. Austin hated baseball and Leo was terrible at it. I logged into Facebook. Nothing on Austin’s page. He was smart enough to stay quiet. But Monica, Monica could not breathe without posting about it.
Her life was a performance and she needed an audience. I went to her Instagram. Her profile was public and there it was posted four hours ago. A picture of the three of them. Austin wearing a linen shirt, Leo holding a game controller, and Monica in a designer bikini holding a glass of champagne.
The background was unmistakable. The massive water slides, the ocean view. The caption read, ‘Finally, some peace. Royal Caribbean icon of the seas. 15 days of bliss with my boys. No distractions, just us. #familyfirst #luxury life # blessed. No distractions. That is what she called Mia. A distraction. I zoomed in on the photo.
They looked happy. They looked relieved. They were smiling. that wide, carefree smile of people who think they have gotten away with a crime. I picked up my phone and dialed the number for the airline. I have been a platinum member for 20 years and I know how to get information. I told the agent I was Austin’s father and I wanted to confirm their return flight details to pick them up.
I gave his date of birth. It was a security breach, but the agent sounded tired and I sounded authoritative. ‘Oh yes, Mr. Slater,’ the agent said. The tickets for Austin, Monica, and Leo Slater were booked 6 months ago. Round trip to Miami, first class. 6 months. I hung up the phone. My hand was gripping the mouse so hard the plastic creaked. This was not last minute.
This was not an emergency. They had planned this for half a year. For 6 months, they sat at the dinner table with Mia, knowing they were going to leave her behind like a piece of unwanted furniture. They had saved money. They had booked tickets. They had probably bought that bicycle chain weeks ago. I looked at the calendar on my wall.