Tense moment. I'm sitting here awaiting a call from Patty (Rodrigues), our friend in St. Augustine. She is calling to get in touch with Faith, and I am waiting to see what has happened.

I talked to Paul this morning. At around 3:00. I was on the phone with Faith. And apparantly, from what I've pieced together since, he came in and took the phone away from her. I should have hung up. I should have just shut down. But I didn't. I couldn't. I was the kid caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar, and though I froze, not at first comprehending the situation, when he said “Hello, Kevin” I responded.

What followed was a brief, civil exchange. No heated words. No yelling. No threats. He blamed me for the breakup of his marriage. He told me he hoped I was proud of myself. It never got any worse than that. And when he hung up, I languished around for two hours, wondering what I should do. God help me. I pray that wasn't a mistake. They still sit in the back of my mind; the thoughts and memories of past scares and over-reactions. I think that's why I hesitated. I honestly didn't feel that there was any real immediate danger to Faith.

So I waited until 5:00. When I knew that Faith wasn't going to call back. And I talked to Patty. I asked her to call for me. To find out. Is she alright? Was there a blowup? Should I send her help?