PART 2 – The Questions I Had Avoided Finally Became Impossible to Ignore When My Wife’s Silence Left Me With No One to Trust but My Own Instincts

I called our son again later that morning.

I didn't leave another message.

I sat at the table, holding the phone, trying to decide what to say if he answered.

I didn't want to sound angry.

I didn't want to accuse him of anything.

I wanted one simple answer.

Where was Maggie?

I tried him again.

No answer.

I put the phone down and walked into the living room.

Her chair stood beside mine, with the small cushion she always used resting against the back.

I straightened it.

Then I felt foolish for doing so.

There was nobody sitting there.

I went back to the kitchen and made another cup of coffee.

I didn't drink it.

By then, I had begun to replay our last conversation in my head.

Maggie had sounded tired, but she had sounded like herself.

She had said our son needed help.

She hadn't explained much beyond that.

I wondered whether I should have asked more questions before she left.

Maybe I had been too quick to accept her explanation.

Maybe she had been trying to tell me something without saying it directly.

I knew I was reaching.

When someone you love disappears from your daily life without explanation, your mind starts looking for meaning in things that never seemed meaningful before.

I didn't know what to believe.

I only knew I couldn't keep sitting at home.

I began looking for the details I had overlooked.

Her suitcase was gone.

Her travel bag was gone.

The charger she had packed was gone too.

Everything she had taken with her suggested she had left for an ordinary visit.

Nothing in the house explained why she had stopped answering.

I checked the messages between us.

The last few were short and unremarkable.

I read them again anyway.

There was no warning in them.

No request for help.

No strange phrase that suddenly revealed itself as a hidden message.

Just my wife telling me she had arrived and that she was busy.

I sat with that for a long time.

Then I called our son one more time.

This time, I left a message.

“It's Dad. I need to know how your mother is doing. Call me as soon as you can.”

I tried to keep my voice steady.

I don't know whether I succeeded.

Afterward, I put the phone on the table and waited.

I lasted about ten minutes before picking it up again.

Nothing.

I considered calling someone who might know whether Maggie had been seen recently.

But I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to involve without first speaking to our son.

I didn't want to turn a family problem into something larger.

That hesitation would stay with me.

It was the kind of hesitation that seemed sensible right up until the moment you realized you had wasted time.

I spent the afternoon pacing around the house.

I checked the front door even though I knew Maggie wasn't going to walk through it.

I looked outside whenever a vehicle passed.

Once, I thought I heard her car.

I went to the window before I could stop myself.

It was a neighbor.

I returned to my chair and sat down.

I felt embarrassed by how much I was waiting.

Then I felt ashamed of being embarrassed.

Maggie was my wife.

Worrying about her was not something I needed to justify.

By late afternoon, I knew I needed more than another unanswered call.

I needed to find out what had happened.

I thought about driving to Knoxville.

The idea frightened me because it made the situation feel real.

As long as I stayed home, I could tell myself Maggie was simply busy.

If I went looking for her, I would have to face the possibility that she wasn't coming back when I expected.

I packed a few things into a small bag.

Then I stopped and unpacked them.

I couldn't even explain to myself why.

I walked through the house again, turning off lights that were already off and checking windows that were already locked.

Finally, I sat down and looked at the phone.

I had been waiting for someone else to tell me what to do.

Nobody was going to do that for me.

I picked up the phone and tried our son once more.

There was no answer.

That was the moment my patience ended.

I decided I would go to Knoxville and find out what was happening.

I didn't know what I would find when I got there.

I only knew that staying home had become harder than facing the unknown.

Click here to continue reading: PART 3: I Had Run Out of Reasons to Wait, and Every Mile Toward Knoxville Made Me More Afraid of What My Family Wasn’t Telling Me