Calls and Contacts

[Hyacinth]

Something tells me I’m going about all this the wrong way. Why am I making this so much harder than it needs to be? There is one person out there who probably has all the answers to everything I want to know, both about myself and my mother.

The man who was there from the beginning. Dr. Stevens.

“Lisa,” I approach her as I walk through the clinic the next morning, rested and refreshed after a long, quiet night at home. Drew never came back that night, and part of me hopes it is because he spent his night with Blake. Bringing my focus back to the task at hand I ask. “Do you know where I can find Dr. Stevens? Did he leave a phone number or any other way that I can contact him?”

“Oh yes!,” She perks right up, happy to be of use. Jumping down from her chair opens up a file cabinet that creaks from disuse and rust. “Here it is.”

She pulls out a card. On it is an address to a PO BOX in Davenport. No phone number. No physical address. “Is this it? No real address.”

She nods.