Unhealthy Coping Mechanism

Chapter 27

Frank was only halfway through his syrup-soaked pancakes when Harriet finished off her stack. "Dang, babe, you were hungry."

She licked the last of the maple syrup off her lips. "What can I say? I have quite a sweet tooth these days."

The pancakes hadn't been nearly as good as anything she could make of course, but they were a nice change of pace. It was a shame her stomach didn't feel the same way about them her taste buds did. It let out a low grumble, just as irritated as she was that she wasn't in the middle of making a recipe.

Patience, she thought. All she had to do was go through the motions. Then, Frank would realize what a colossal waste it was to keep her from baking and give her free reign of the kitchen again.

"You've gotten your fill," Frank said around a forkful of chocolate chip pancake. "So now's as good a time as any to make those calls like you promised."

Harriet eyed her contacts as if she was trying to analyze an ancient manuscript. She swallowed a lump in her throat at the sight of her father's name. She couldn't bring herself to delete his number from her phone. Not now, maybe not ever. Her mother's wasn't much easier to look at. Aside from a couple quick calls where she'd asked for baking tips, Nia had gone almost completely quiet. Not as silent as Carol though, with weeks of texts from Harriet still unread. Did she even have access to her phone, wherever she was?

That left Patricia and Vicky. How could she even begin to explain what she was going through to them?

"You've got this, babe," Frank said as he reached over the table to take her hand in his. "Worst off, they'll be missing out on a heck of a fun day. I'll make sure of it."

Might as well get this over with so she could see how serious he was about that. Harriet took a deep breath and called Patricia.

The phone barely got through the first ring before a quiet, cautious voice came through. "Harriet?"

"Hey, Patricia. How've you been?"

"Oh thank God," Patricia whispered before saying, "Been worried sick about you. It's not like you not to pick up."

"I've had my hands full lately, but I was hoping we could get together sometime."

"Full of flour?" Patricia barked out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You'd better not call Carol. Ryan and I have had a bad enough time keeping her from falling off the wagon as it is."

Harriet rolled her eyes. She was talking about baking as if it was some sort of drug, something that would lure you in with the promise of pleasure only to ensnare you in an addiction. But baking wasn't like that, not at all. Patricia would never understand.

"She's out of the hospital?"

"Just. They've got her meeting with a support group twice a week, and Ryan and I have been making sure she's taking care of herself." Her voice still had its usual firmness, but there was a tired undertone to it. "I wish I could hang out with you, Harriet, but I don't have the energy. Not right now."

It certainly sounded like she needed someone to take care of her for a while, not the other way around. "That's okay."

"But you can call me, okay? No more of this disappearing shit. I almost lost one friend to whatever it is you're dealing with. I don't think I could stand it if I had to go through that again."

"Okay. Talk to you soon."

Frank gave her a sympathetic look. "Sorry about that, babe. I had no idea she'd bring up Carol."