Chapter 5 –
"Who's Jseawater?" Molly blurted surprising herself with her pushy and forward approach. It just came out.
"Excuse me?" Fiona responds already preparing to get on the defensive.
"On you computer last night you were talking to someone called Jseawater, who is it?"
"I don't see why it's any of your business!" Molly looked at Fiona her daughter while the words she's your daughter don't kill her raced in her head.
"It is my business Fi. I don't feel comfortable you talking to strangers need it be ones face to face or the web. There are twisted people out there."
"You never cared before." Fiona mumbles under her breath, but not under enough.
"You know that's not true baby. I have always cared and will forever care about you." Molly was taken a back by Fi's reaction it really didn't make any sense, or least it didn't apply to their family. She kept in mind that Fiona was upset over her privacy being invaded and was lashing out because of that.
"It doesn't matter." Fiona tells her mother.
"What doesn't matter?"
"Who I was talking to. It wasn't a stranger. So I wasn't talking to some psycho killer with a taste for young girls with rock star mothers." Molly knew it had been someone they knew the family in at least some degree to be able to mention her name. Of course she had to be careful how she presented that information, if at all. This conversation was quickly causing Molly to dig her nails into the back of hand with frustration. Teenagers!
"Fiona I'm not going to ask you again who is it!?" The friendly approach was obviously not working; it was time to get tough.
"Papa Bear." Molly's eyes flew out of their sockets, her mouth reached her shoes. John!? All of her questions became magidified. What was wrong with him? She never knew he had a substances problem. What if it wasn't a substances problem but something worse? Why was he talking to her daughter? Why Fi was keeping it such a big secret? Fiona just stood there watching her mother trying to figure out what she was thinking. She had never promised not to tell her about the chats. She had just wanted to keep it secret for some reason. What's the big deal!? He was practically my second father when I was younger! I am allowed to talk to the man. She thinks to herself getting angrier by the second.
Jack came out from his bedroom holding a folder full of his school papers ready to tackle algebra equations and the effects of the Cold War. There was a strong and negative vibe through out the room. His mom and sister looked almost demonic maybe like pissed off. Irene and Ned were trying to act like they had been listening, but it was clear they had heard everything by the embarrassed looks on their faces. Something was definitely wrong here. He opened his mouth to ask what that something was, but was interrupted by the rings of the cell phone. It continued to ring, no one making a move towards it, like they were unable to even hear it. For Irene that was completely beyond belief.
"I'll get it." Jack annocounces while picking the red colored phone off the counter.
"Hello?" He asks once it is against his ear.
"This is the San Francisco police department may I please speak with Molly Phillips?" A woman answers him. He had excepting Clu, one of the band or roadies, a wrong number, anything in the world but that. No every excepts to receive a phone call like that. By that point everyone had snapped out of trances of frustration and confusion and watched Jack with the phone, waiting to know who it was and who for.
"Just one moment please." Jack finally replies reazing he had let too much time pass without answering the question. Pulling the phone down away from his face he looks up at his mom.
"It's for you. The San Francisco police." He speaks, Molly's face going pale with fear and anxiety. She takes the cell phone from Jack's out stretched arm. Everyone stares at are the same fear and confusing racing through their heads as well. Ned takes a sudden exit figuring if something was wrong being on a highway going 70 miles an hour won't be the best place to be. In a matter of moments the bus is parked at an empty Dairy Queen parking lot. Molly had no idea what the phone call was about. All she had said was that she was Molly Phillips and was told to hold for a moment. It was quickly becoming many moments. Which made the fear and what ifs race even faster inside her mind.
"Mrs. Phillips?" A voice different from the initial one asks.
"Yes?" She speaks up in a barely a whisper. Too scared of what else could come out with the words.
"Do you know a John Kane?" She was too shocked to think of anything.
"Yes I do."
"I'm sorry to inform you he died earlier this morning."