Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 11
Lunch could wait.
I dialed the office of Rebecca Hopkins, LPC, RPT and waited for an answer.
“River View Mental Health.”
“Hi. I need to set an appointment for my daughter with Rebecca Hopkins.”
After giving the woman on the line Sarah’s insurance info, I waited while she put me on hold. Walking back to the counter, I started cutting the sandwiches I’d made in half, placing them on plates until she came back on the line.
“Ma’am? Dr. Hopkins has an opening on Friday at 10 AM. Would you like me to schedule your daughter then?”
“Yes, please.” I’d have some rearranging to do, but it was necessary. I couldn’t drag my feet now that I knew this was what had to be done.
I turned the burner on the stove off so the soup wouldn’t boil over, and then I checked on Sarah again. Still fast asleep.
Then I went outside and lit another cigarette before making one other call.
“Play It Again. John speaking. How can I help you?”
“John, this is Randi.”
“What’s up?”
“I need to talk to Kathy. Is she there?” Although I had my manager’s cell phone, I much preferred to speak with her when she was officially on the clock.
“Yeah. Just a minute.” When he set the phone down, I took a moment to take down a deep drag of smoke.
Soon, I heard Kathy’s voice coming through my phone. “Randi, how’s your daughter?”
“That’s actually why I’m calling. She has an appointment with a child psychologist on Friday morning, so I wondered if I could switch my shift with someone else.” My gut clenched while I waited for her response.
“Is everything okay?”
“Not really. I’m worried about her. She set a fire at school yesterday.”
“Oh, dear God. Was anybody hurt?”
“No. But the school counselor thinks there’s something going on with Sarah that she’s not telling us.”
“Could be. I hope the psychologist helps. Look, I was closing Friday night. If you want to switch shifts with me, I could open the store for you.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Four o’clock?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you so much, Kathy. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, do I need to remind you we’re family here? We’ll make it work. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
While I thanked her, I knew she could talk a good game—but I’d experienced different results in the past. Still, for now, I’d take it.
However, that brought me to yet another call.
I dialed Noreen. While I could have run across the street to chat with her, I preferred to keep contact with her at a minimum, because she was often quite clingy, leading me to believe she didn’t have many friends. When she answered, I said, “Hey, Noreen, I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“Sure.”
“I need to take Sarah to the doctor Friday morning, so now I have to work that night. Would you be able to watch her Friday night?”
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry. I’ve got plans.”
That sucked.
She asked, “Does it have anything to do with what happened yesterday?”
“Yeah.” And because I knew Noreen would ask me about it if I didn’t cut her off at the pass, I added, “I’ll have to tell you about it sometime. But would you be able to watch Sarah during the day tomorrow? She’s not in school the rest of the week.”
“Yep, I can do that.”
I thanked her and got myself off the phone as quickly as I could, before Noreen started gossiping about her neighbors next door.
But now I had another problem. Noreen’s inability to watch Sarah Friday night meant only one thing: I’d have to ask my parents if they could keep my daughter. Devon wasn’t a problem as he’d be with his dad. What was sad was that Sarah was actually reaching the age where I could have left her home alone—but events of late made me hesitant. Sure, right now she was sleeping as if she were in a coma, but just yesterday she’d been setting fires, meaning I would only be able to concentrate on work if Sarah were under adult supervision.
Just the thought of talking to my mother made my stomach clench.
Taking a long drag on the cigarette, I then called my parents’ house. They both had cell phones but rarely used them, and my mother preferred talking on the landline.
When she answered, my stomach knotted up again.
“Hey, mom.”
“How’ve you been, honey?”
“Better.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” The tone of my mother’s voice changed, and I was hit with a sudden revelation: the only time I called my parents was when something was going wrong. I rarely called them when something good happened. Sure, I invited them to Devon’s kindergarten graduation and the art and science fair Sarah had entries in last year—but how often did I simply call and chat?
It was something I’d have to work on after Sarah was taken care of.
“Sarah has a doctor’s appointment Friday, so now I have to work the night shift then. That would have been okay, except my babysitter can’t watch her…so I was wondering if you and dad would be able to keep her overnight.” It would be inconvenient, sure, since my parents had moved out of Winchester years ago, so I’d have to make a trip—but Sarah was worth it.
“Honey, I wish we could, but we already have plans. Some friends of ours are celebrating their