In the previous episode... Angelique pleaded with Cynthia to let her stay because of the baby. According to the readers, with her fingers crossed, Angelique promised she would stop sending messages to men...
“I wasn’t going to throw a nursing mother and baby out on the road for Pete’s sake,” Cynthia Ann replied. “But I won’t be held responsible for what happens to any man who sets foot on this property looking for you.”
Angelique took one look at Cynthia Ann’s face and believed her. But she also knew two things. If Chuck did not come back, she was going to have to find a father for her baby. Family was what she had missed. Finding a father was so important that she had crossed her fingers when she had made the promise to Cynthia Ann.
And she needed to get in touch with Robbie. Cynthia Ann was a lady with powers and spells Angelique did not understand. She didn’t know where Cynthia Ann buried bodies. Or maybe she just cast voodoo spells and people died somewhere else. Either way, Angelique knew Robbie was in trouble.
She couldn’t count on using Cynthia Ann’s computer and needed a new way to text. After she had put the baby back in the cradle, she pulled open a dresser drawer and reached for the phone that Chuck had given her. But where was the charger? She pulled clothing out of the drawer, tossing it on the floor, but no charger. Three more drawers. The bag that had come home with her from the hospital. She had kept the phone under her pillow while she was at the hospital. No charger. Angelique concluded she had left the charger at the hospital and threw herself across the bed, sobbing into her pillow so she wouldn’t wake the baby. She knew Cynthia Ann would call it a message from the universe, a message to stop waiting for Chuck to call.
Angelique might need to move on, but she would need a phone to do it. She began to formulate a plan. She had encountered Vince, the mailman, on walks along the road as he followed his rural delivery route. Another redhead, tall and muscular, in his late twenties, he had shown her a picture on the dashboard of his baby girl, a one-year-old with hair the color of a shiny penny.
Later that morning, Angelique wrapped her baby in a light cotton blanket and took what Cynthia called a sunbrella, an old-fashioned polka-dotted, ruffled parasol to shade them. She stood waiting next to the mailbox when Vince pulled up. She asked if he had a charger that would work with her phone since she had lost hers and Cynthia Ann didn’t believe in cell phones. He told her the only one he had plugged into the cigarette lighter. He offered to charge it while he drove and drop it off in the mailbox on the way back from his route. Angelique couldn’t believe her good luck.
She waited impatiently for the afternoon to pass, going twice to the mailbox before she found the phone. Back in her own room, she focused on sending Robbie a message. She had memorized Robbie’s email address as she had become accustomed to doing with each man when she had been locked up. She was typing in the information when she noticed there had been a call to the phone.
She shivered in spite of the hot, humid day. Someone had called this number. The phone had recorded a recent call, number unknown. And a voicemail.
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