Rude Awakenings: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 2)

Chapter Thirty: Lauren, Monday

Children first. Always. The two phones could wait. Lauren got them seated at the kitchen table and said, "Just cereal, today, kiddos. It's going to be a busy day, today."

"Are you going to work, Mom?" Naomi asked.

"No," she said, as she got out the sugary cereal she usually saved for an occasional treat. What the fuck. All conventions were out the window today.

"Do we get to stay home from school?"

"Nope. Mommy's going to be busy, and she needs you in school, and Grandma and Grandpa might need to pick you up today."

"Where's Daddy?" Tosh asked.

She poured cereal into two bowls, then decided on a third for herself. She needed to eat if she was going to accomplish anything today. "He's hiding," she said. "He's being a very naughty Daddy, and Mommy has to go looking for him, like the Runaway Bunny in the book, remember?"

"That's a baby book," Naomi sneered.

Lauren suddenly felt like she might cry. "I'd still read it to you if you let me. It says everything I feel about you two," she said with her back turned to them so they wouldn't see her face.

"You can read it to me, Mommy," Tosh said. Her sweet little boy.

"Okay," she said, wiping her eyes. "How about tonight?"

"Will Dad be home tonight?" Naomi asked. "If he is, maybe I'll let him read it to me."

Naomi was Daddy's girl, for sure; she had his hair, after all. "I will do everything in my power to find him and bring him home, but he's being very naughty, and he won't tell me where he is."

"That's not how hide and seek works," Tosh said. "If you tell the seeker where you're hiding, then you lose."

"You said he was working last night," Naomi said. "Were you lying?"

Lauren thought of her answer as she poured milk into the bowls. Naomi was of the age where the line between truthfulness and falsehood was clear, where fairy tales were relegated to the bookshelf and forgotten, where Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny ceased to have the power to make her behave. If Joe didn't keep bringing her to church, doubts would even creep into her psyche about Jesus and Heaven and Hell.

She brought the bowls and spoons to the table and said, "I told you where I thought he was. It made the most sense at the time. I've since learned that he wasn't at work, and now I have to go looking for him because now I don't know where he is. Do you trust me to find him?"

"Yes, Mommy," Tosh said. "You find people, that's your job."

Oh, if only it were that honourable. Tosh's interpretation of her work reminded her of the mission statement of the Lawrence Street Detective Club when they themselves were children, so long ago, We find what is lost, but most of her targets were never really missing. Maybe hiding, for a short time, hiding away with a person they weren't supposed to be with. It wasn't really her job to find them, but to supply proof that they were hiding.

"Sometimes he goes to Zio Johnny's on Sundays," Naomi said.

"Even if he did, he wouldn't stay overnight." She sat down and ate. She needed coffee. Why didn't she brew a pot before sitting down? Too late. Maybe she'd grab something after dropping the kids off at school.

Once she sent the kids upstairs to get dressed, she finally decided to check the phones.

Joe's phone had a missed call from Johnny. Of course it did. He might not have gone over last night, and that would have been all right in itself, but Joe always, always called Johnny at least, to go over the plans for the week at the various sites they had.