My Body is a Cage and Other Stories

content. He either didn’t think of it or didn’t care enough to do it. That almost hurt more than the
messages themselves. Another notification popped upwhile I held his phone that said “goodnite”
with a kissy face as punctuation. My husband beganhumming in the shower. She must have
really made him happy.
Dolly, I went out on the back deck while he was stillin the shower. I used my own phone
to call her. At first, I worried she would think itwas a spam call (did spam calls exist when you
were younger? No offense.) but she picked up afterthe fifth ring.
There was a pause and then, “Hello?” Her voice wasn’tsoft as summer rain. It was low
and had a slight raspiness to it, as if she begansmoking too young. I found myself frozen, mouth
apart while all the words I’d prepared ran from me.She repeated herself, and I could tell if I
didn’t speak soon she would hang up. Here is the firstconversation I ever had with my own
Jolene:
“I’m Emma,” was all I could think to say.
“Okay? Hello, Emma?” That was interesting. She didn’tknow who she was talking to.
“I’m Harry’s wife.”
There was silence on her end of things and then sheexhaled, “Oh.”
“Did you know about me?”
“No, Emma. I didn’t.”
“Would you like to meet?”
Another moment of silence, then, “Yes. I’m sorry.I didn’t know.”
“I know.”