When I was a little girl, my mother taught me how to use a code word if I was in trouble and couldn’t speak up. As an adult, I decided to impart this brilliant method to my baby girl. I figured she could use it to get out of sleepovers or if she had awkward hangouts. But I never imagined her needing to use it so soon.
So yesterday was like any other day, or so I thought. As I sat in my kitchen, finishing my evening coffee, my phone rang. It was my ex-husband, Dave. Our relationship, once filled with warmth and affection, had grown strained over the years. Divorce had a way of doing that, and while we tried to maintain a civil relationship for the sake of our daughter, Amy, things were often tense.
“Hey, Claire,” Dave’s voice came through, slightly hesitant. “Amy wants to talk to you. She’s been asking to tell you about her day since she got here.”
This caught me off guard. Amy usually enjoyed her sleepover weekends with her dad and rarely called me during those visits.
“Oh, sure, put her on,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The fact that Dave sounded a bit off only added to the unease that was beginning to settle in my stomach.
“Hi, Mom!” Amy’s voice was as cheerful as ever, but there was something in the way she spoke that I couldn’t quite place. This was unusual for her, so I perked up and listened intently.
“Hey, sweetie! How’s your weekend going? Have you been having fun?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation light.
“Yeah, it’s been good. We went to the park yesterday, and I drew some pictures this morning. I drew a dog, a tree, and… I wish I had a blue marker so I could draw blueberries.”
The words hit me like a ton of bricks! There it was: our code word. My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, I couldn’t find my voice. Among her childish chatter, Amy had dropped in our “password.” When my daughter was younger, I taught her the importance of having a secret word. It was something she could use if she ever felt unsafe but couldn’t voice it outright. “Blueberries” was our word, but I never imagined she would use it.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to stay calm because the word meant “get me out of here immediately.”
“That sounds great, honey. I’m on my way to come get you. Please don’t say anything to your father. I’ll talk to him when I get there.”
“Did you have anything else you wanted to tell me?”
“No, that’s it,” she replied, her tone still sweet but carrying an undertone of something else; fear? Uncertainty? I couldn’t be sure, but I knew one thing: I had to get her out of there.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you too, my Amy Wamy.”
I heard her giggle as I hung up the phone, my hands trembling. My mind raced as I tried to figure out what could have happened. Dave had never given me any reason to doubt his ability to care for our daughter, but something was wrong. I grabbed my keys, my mind made up. I had to go to my ex’s place and get Amy.
When I finally arrived, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. To my surprise, Dave opened it with a smile.
“Hey, Claire! What brings you here so early?”
“I need to see Amy.”
Dave looked taken aback. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
I didn’t answer right away. I stepped inside, feeling an odd sense of urgency.
“I just want to talk to her,” I said, my voice even but stern. “Now.”
Dave hesitated, but then nodded, leading me to Amy’s room. She was sitting on the bed, looking perfectly fine, but her eyes met mine with a hint of relief.
“Hi, sweetie,” I said gently, as I sat next to her. “Are you okay?”
Amy’s small smile faltered for a second, but then she nodded. “I’m fine, Mom. I just… I wanted to talk to you.”
I pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. “I’m so glad you used the word, baby. You don’t ever have to be afraid to tell me if something’s wrong.”
Amy squeezed me back. “I knew you would come.”
I turned to Dave, who was standing at the door, looking confused. “Can we talk?” I asked, my voice quiet but firm.
He nodded, stepping away as I led him to the living room.
“What’s going on, Claire?” he asked, still not fully understanding.
“I don’t know yet,” I replied. “But I think you need to explain to me why Amy felt the need to use our code word.”