Conversation, Not Confrontation

I've been trying to contact Meagan all week, Ms J, without success. Either through apathy or impecuniosity, (I suspect the latter) Kelly has not paid her phone bill and once again, the phone has been disconnected.

"We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and dial again."

My disappointment was turning to anger.

Meagan expressed a desire to see my play and I'd love for her to be there. She brags about having seen everything I've ever done. This is the last weekend for the play and besides, Sunday is Father's Day. But how could I contact her? Email? Kelly monopolises the computer and they suffer a dial-up connection anyway. I don't know any of their neighbours who might take a message to Meagan. I was considering driving to Norval yesterday to ask my daughter if she'd like to visit me this weekend. I had a rehearsal after work so I'd have to drive out there after 10:00 pm. While there, I decided I'd give her fuckwit mother a piece of my mind. Three able-bodied adults in that home, and not one of them can go out and get a job.

My blood was beginning to simmer as I stood in the kitchen yesterday morning, with the phone in my hand. Meagan's in school all day while I'm home. How can I contact her, I wondered?

Then it hit me. School. I can call her school and ask them to have Meagan phone me.

So that's what I did. Mike was here when the phone rang. I knew it was my Scout and I interrupted our conversation to race for the phone.

"Hello?"

"You rang, Dad?"

It was Meagan. I was so pleased to hear from her that I couldn't stop grinning.

"Hi Scout! Thanks for calling me back. I've been trying to reach you at home but there's something wrong with your phone."

Kelly has fed her a peck of bullshit. I expected she would.

"Yeah, Dad. Mum forgot to make one payment and now the phone company's dicking us around. We're switching phone companies now anyway. Mum's sick of their attitude."

I knew this was not entirely true, Ms J, but I let it slide and said nothing.

"Anyway, what's the matter?" she asked then. "And make it quick please, 'cuz I haven't had my lunch yet."

I told her this was the last week for the play and that I hoped she'd come to see dear ol' dad on stage again.

"Sure, Dad. I'd love to see your play. And this one especially 'cuz you wrote it, right?"

"Well, I wrote some of it, Scout. But I didn't write the whole thing."

"OK. Whatever. Are you picking me up on Friday then?"

"How 'bout 4:30?" I said. "Will you be home from school and ready to go by 4:30?"

"Yup. That's fine. But I gotta go, OK Dad? My friends are waiting for me."

"OK, Hun. See you on Friday then. 4:30."

"Bye Dad."

"Bye Meagan."

That's better, Ms Journal. I feel better now. Not anxious anymore. Or angry. I spoke with my "best and favouritest" girl and she's coming to visit me this weekend. I didn't have to talk to Kelly and she in turn, was spared my wrath.

God is good, Ms J. All the time.

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