Dialing the number, my hands were shaking and my heart was pounding as I frantically searched my brain for the words I'd try to speak if someone actually answered the phone. Just a couple of rings and a woman's voice, very small and sleepy said, "Hello?" I have no idea how I was able to form words. I had no spit and my throat felt like it was closing, but I did. "My name is Shawn. I'm trying to figure out why your phone number is on my mobile bill so many times."
"Sorry, I don't know."
"Well, my last name is ******. My husband is Richard. Does that ring a bell?"
That woke her ass up. "Oh, Shawn! This is Jaymie . I used to work in Richard's office. You know me. We went to the Eagle's concert together." (Little side note: I now know that when Richard offered to buy Eagle's tickets for everyone in his office and get us a limo, it was not because I wanted to go. It was to impress her.) "Richard has been helping me with some personal family problems."
"Well," I said, as the anger built, "that's about to come to an abrupt halt." Clunk. Actually, the clunk of the phone was only in my head. Phones don't clunk these days. You click a button and the conversation ends. But, in my mind, I SLAMMED down the phone and threw it across the room.
Then, I pushed my back into the chair, gripped the side arms until my knuckles turned white, tried unsuccessfully to slow my breathing and felt my stomache pull up into my throat. This was a roller coaster I would never forget, a ride I never thought I'd take. This ride has more abysmal drops and ferocious curves than I could ever have imagined. It's savage and it can devour you. I knew I needed support. This was a 911 moment for sure. Thank God for friends. Nurture your friendships. If you're dealing with torture like I'm trying to describe, caring friends are imperative.