by La Jill Hunt
Although she knew her husband was probably right, she told him, “Well, I don’t need you up here either.”
“Hello?” Titus’s voice came on the line. “Syl, what’s going on? Tricia’s at your house?”
“Yes, she is. She’s out frantically looking for your son,” Sylvia told him.
“Oh my God. I told her to relax and don’t panic.” Titus sighed.
“Wait, do you know where he is?” Sylvia asked, wondering why he seemed so calm while Tricia was about to damn near have a heart attack in her living room.
“No, not really,” Titus said.
“What the hell does that mean? No, not really? Have you talked to him?” Sylvia was now talking through clenched teeth.
“No, I haven’t talked to him, but I don’t think he’s run away anywhere. His clothes are still in his room, and he knows he has a news interview at three o’clock this afternoon. Besides, the entire school will be celebrating the team at school tomorrow, and he ain’t missing that. He’s just mad at me right now. And I get that,” Titus told her.
“I can’t believe you aren’t worried the least bit,” Janelle spoke up. She’d been so quiet that Sylvia forgot she was on the phone.
“He’s a teenage boy who was publicly embarrassed by his father. Home was the last place he wanted to be,” Titus told her.
“You need to check on your wife,” Sylvia said, thinking about how upset Tricia was and remembering how upset she had felt when Peyton went missing. “You’re acting like it’s no big deal when really, you don’t know.”
“I’ll call her and tell her to come home,” Titus said; then he said, “Has she said anything else?”
“Like what?” Sylvia asked.
“Like, about anyone else?” His voice was barely audible.
“No, Titus, she hasn’t said anything about my sister, your mistress, if that’s what you’re referring to. And frankly, I don’t blame her.” Sylvia hung up the phone. The nerve of him to even ask her that question. He was just as selfish as her husband.
She brushed past Garry and said, “We still have unfinished business from this morning. This doesn’t change anything.”