Megan. You pity me? She tried to rein herself in.

“Hey, what kind of coffee’d you get?”

“It’s just black coffee,” said Megan.

“Ugh! Gross! Ha ha, you don’t like to get anything sweet in your coffee?”

“No, I think cream and sugar in coffee is gross.”

What a stupid, predictable conversation.

But Jillian thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, asking her ex for some money.

The next day, Jillian said, “Doctor, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Uh, sure, said Dr. Billings.

“I’m going to be out of the office next Tuesday, it’s unavoidable.”

“Sure, that’s fine with me.”

“I have a court date,” said Jillian.

“Okay,” said Dr. Billings.

“It’s for child support.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to tell Dr. Schraeder, too, I just thought you’d like to know, because sometimes I answer your phone calls when Megan is busy with something else.”

“Yeah, Jillian, it’s fine.”

“Okay, good.”

Megan heard this and thought it was a dig. Dr. Schraeder came in an hour later and Jillian gave her the same spiel.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Dr. Schraeder. “Whatever you need to do.”

Jillian smiled and walked back to her desk.

Ugh, thought Megan.

The doctors started seeing patients.

“I’m going to make reminder calls for tomorrow,” said Megan.

“All righty,” said Jillian.

Megan started making the calls.

What if I called him right now? thought Jillian. That might not be such a bad idea, you know. She’s making calls, I could just call him right now real quick.

She got an electric feeling when she thought to call him, like maybe this time it would go okay. He was the last person she’d had sex with. But she’d had enough sex, that wasn’t what the feeling was about.

Oh, man, what a crazy idea. Her heart started going crazy, and she got an adrenaline rush. Everyone in the waiting room was taken care of, and Megan was on the phone. She could stick the call in real quick. She didn’t have the energy to call him at night, and also she had to watch out for the dog and the kid at night. There was something neutral and encouraging about the office. She held the phone, her cell phone, out in front of her and almost started laughing that low, barking laugh again, like vomit-laughing, while she looked at her phone and thought about calling.

No matter that she’d deleted his phone number from her contacts three years ago, those numbers were burned in her brain and they would never leave. Sometimes she thought she’d see those numbers on her death bed while she was going over all the stuff that had made up her life, but that was stupid.

Abruptly, she dialed his number and slapped the phone to her cheek.

His voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me, Jillian. I just had a couple of quick questions about Adam, like, an update or something, so give me a call when you get this. Okay, thanks.”

She hung up, set the ringer to vibrate, and put the phone in her pocket. The way she said the message was okay. It sounded nice and like she wasn’t a crazy lady, but it had come out too fast. He’ll just think I’m in the middle of something and that I figured he’d have his voicemail on. He’ll think I’m busy and that’s why I was talking so fast.

She tried to do some work, but she knew he’d call back, since it had been almost a year since she’d called him. She knew that when she called him too much he was unlikely to respond, but she knew, she really knew, that since she hadn’t been abusing their connection—you know, Adam—that he would probably call her back.

No, he would definitely call her back, since she hadn’t been calling him all the time. It had been a year, and she deserved to be called back.

He called back. Her phone started vibrating while she was thinking. It was a bad sign that he’d called back so quickly.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said.

“I guess I had some questions about Adam.”

“Yeah, I got your message.”

“Well, so, here’s the thing. My car is damaged from a deer accident, and I don’t have enough money to get my car fixed and pay for Adam’s day care this month. And, also, I work in the city, so I’ve been taking the train to work and a woman from my church has been driving him to day care, and so I really do need my car.”

The guy sighed on the other line and said, “I told you a long time ago that I didn’t have any money, and if the reason you wanted to have this kid was to get money from me, it wasn’t going to work, Jillian. Don’t you remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember. I guess I just thought you might be interested in the welfare of your son.”

“Well, I just don’t have anything.”

Jillian began to feel that rage again that she got when she talked to him. Somehow she always forgot about it. That feeling like she just wanted to get her hands on him and sink her fingers into his skin and pop out his eyeballs and mash his genitals and rip off his fingers and shove them up his nose and into his brain to try to get him to be a decent person and act like they had some kind of humane, caring understanding.

“So what am I supposed to do, leave him at home all day? Bring him to work? Or should I just take him out back and shoot him in the face with a shotgun?” she asked.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so emotional, Jillian. Nothing has changed. Nothing in our agreement has changed.”

“But don’t you care at all?”

“This isn’t about whether or not I care. I wish you wouldn’t make this about that. I wish you wouldn’t attack me in this way, it’s not fun. I called you back because I thought you were trying to be friends with me, and I was interested in that.”

“You know, I am interested in that. I would like for us to get along, but right now I

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