Let me tell you the actions we’ve taken to find your mother.
1) Talked to her dad.
2) Sent Griffin out to sniff and pick up her scent.
3) Broke into her office and went through all her stuff.
4) Drove around in one of her spare vehicles to see if we could find the car that’ s missing. (We do this once a day, every day.)
5) Found a neighbor with a sailboat, and went out on the lake with him. (This idea came from our daughters; it was futile because if Jane drowned, there wouldn’t be much to see from the deck of a sailboat. But it was highly pleasant.)
5) Pawed through all Jane’s papers and books at home.
6) Called the police.
7) Put the mayor’s people on the case. A slew of detectives and agency private eye types are now looking for her.
8) Helped Dr. Cohen, whom I guess one would describe as Jane’s boyfriend, and Jenna, who seems to be Dr. Cohen’s other girlfriend, launch their own investigation.
9) Held a ritual last night in the backyard to ask God to bring Jane home safely. As an atheist, my hopes are not high. But it’s always nice to hold hands and stand in circles, and it appeases my wife.
10) Decided to get in touch with you to make sure Jane hasn’t gone off to India to find you. So, I’m asking you now. If I haven’t reached you by phone before you receive this: do you have any idea where your mom might be?
Jill Riddell is a writer in Chicago. She teaches at the School of the Art Institute and has a weakness for nature, magic, and pennies abandoned in sidewalk cracks.