Chapter 7 - My travel calendar
The investigator asked for my work travel.
I hated what it looked like.
Previous six months:
Thirty-eight nights away.
Not consecutive.
Two here.
Three there.
One.
Four.
A week during a trade show.
I had told myself Eli was old enough.
Simone was home.
House safe.
Food.
School.
Sports.
I called almost every evening.
That became my defense inside my own mind.
I called.
Then child services asked:
“Did you speak privately?”
I stopped.
“What?”
“During those calls, were you confident Eli could speak without Simone present?”
No.
Sometimes speakerphone.
Sometimes she answered first.
Sometimes Eli said:
Everything’s fine.
Very quickly.
Once I remembered asking:
“You okay, buddy? You sound weird.”
He said:
“Tired.”
Simone in background:
“He was up too late again.”
I accepted.
Another night:
“Why long sleeves in that picture? It’s hot.”
Eli said:
“Air conditioning.”
I laughed.
No further question.
A father can call every night and still not create a place safe enough for truth.
May you like
That realization mattered more than counting travel days.
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