The Dawn of Realization.

Chapter Nine.

       My Uncle Rich was still in town. He was over at our house almost every day, making us breakfast and lunch and sometimes dinner, too. I think it's mainly because he noticed mom was still barely functioning. It was as if she was just a shell of her former self. I guess, despite the alleged cheating, she had still loved him. 

     But on Saturday morning, I came downstairs to Uncle Rich, alone, scrambling eggs, and bopping his head to the music he had playing on the mini television on the edge of the counter. I took a seat at the bar and watched him for a few minutes before he realized I was also in the room. 

     " Oh hey, Dawn. " He said, brightly. " Want some breakfast? "

     " Sure, Uncle Rich. " I said as he set a plate down in front of me.  He poured me a glass of milk, but I waited until he was finished cooking before I took a drink. 

     He ran a hand through his wavy, black hair and glanced around the kitchen for a few minutes as if he were looking for something. He rubbed his dirty hands on his white T-shirt and smiled at me. 

     " Aren't you going to eat? " I asked him, stabbing the eggs with the fork in my hand. He was quiet for a moment. 

     " Nah, I already ate some. I just made you some before I went to shower. " He said, putting the pans in the sink and running some water over them. " Enjoy."

     " Alrighty. " I said, watching him leave and go up the stairs and I heard the shower start. Since when had he started showering at our house? Had he stayed the night? Maybe that's why he was being so awkward. 

     I had already showered and dressed so now I was just lingering and eating. I pulled my dad's cell phone out of my pocket and turned it on. Since I was alone for a good twenty minutes, I had the perfect opportunity to find out who 555-3457 was and why they had called my dad so much the day he died. There was only one way to find out. 

     Sucking in a deep breath, I went to recent calls and hovered my thumb over the send button. It took a few more deep breaths before I could press it hard enough. I put the phone to my ear and listened to it ring and ring and ring and ring. 

     But then I realized there was a second ring coming from the mud room off to my left. I pulled the phone from my ear making sure I had hit the right number and then to the door way to the other room. 

     I got up from my chair and went in to the mud room, seeing the coat rack. Next to my dad's old suit jacket and my mom's leather bolero, hung my hoodie and Uncle Rich's suede brown coat. With my free hand, I dug into his pockets, looking over my shoulder. I pulled out his cellphone, feeling it buzz in my palm and looked at the screen. 

     Rhett is calling. 

    My Uncle Rich was 555-3457. 

    My mind was reeling as I shoved both phones in the pocket of my hoodie and hurried back through the kitchen. I wasn't even sure what I was doing when I grabbed my car keys and dashed out to my car with my Uncle's and dad's cellphone in my pocket. 

     It wasn't until half way down the road did I realize I had just stolen my uncle's cell phone and left. He's going to know it was me, obviously. But I couldn't get my head on straight. 

     Eventually, I pulled the car over in to a parking lot and shut off the engine. I flipped open his cell phone and scrolled through his messages, but could find none that matched up to the messages in my dad's phone, which concerned me endlessly. I hit recent calls and seen that he had, in fact, called my dad about 18 times on the day he died, which concerned me even more.  I put his phone down went back to dad's phone, going through those texts again.