Still Working on My Novel

February 2026 short story of the month

A mathematician’s estranged daughter goes searching for him when he vanishes while working on a top-secret government project.

****

Her phone was ringing in the other room, but Arlene was too entrenched in her work to take a break and see who was calling.

She ignored the phone and reached over to turn the radio on. She even cranked the volume louder than she normally would. Soft rock filled the air.

Arlene smiled and took a deep breath. She didn’t intend to leave the studio until she’d made at least five pots. She was behind on restocking her booth. Today she would get back on track.

She sat at the wheel and let the stone spin without touching the clay for many minutes. She hadn’t made anything since she and Rodney broke up last month. He’d often made fun of her pottery. He would call it her “cute hobby.”

It wasn’t a hobby. She loved pottery. She loved creating. She loved the smell of the clay and the vibration of the spinning parts. She loved everything about it. She made a solemn vow that she would never date another Rodney.

She let herself be consumed by being back in the studio. By the time she finished making her pots, she felt better than she had in months.

Her relief was short lived. She tidied up and turned the music off. Then she heard the phone ringing in the other room — again. Who was calling her? The only person who ever called her when she was at the studio was her mother, but she was on a girl’s trip with friends.

Arlene picked up the phone. “Hello?” she asked.

“Is this Arlene Fitzsimmons?”

“Yes,” she answered. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Have you spoken to your father recently?” The voice on the line asked without answering her question.

“Um…” she hesitated. “That’s not really any of your business. Who is this?”

“We need to know the last time you had contact with him. In person or via phone or even email.”

“Again, that’s not any of your business until you tell me who you are.” Arlene started to tap her foot as she spoke. Everything with her dad was always problematic. He was a walking chaos magnet.

“We are your father’s current employers. We need to know when you last had contact with him.”

“Your vague answer to my question leads me to conclude that it’s still none of your business.”

The voice on the phone sighed. “Fair enough.”

Click. They hung up on her.

Arlene slowly put the phone back in the cradle. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment.

Why would her father’s work be calling her? She was probably the last person he would contact. If the caller had given her any information at all, she would have gladly told them that she hadn’t spoken to her father in almost fifteen years.

****

Fifteen years ago

“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this?” Arlene yelled. “It’s not your life — it’s mine.”

“If I’m paying for your school, I will not pay for an art degree.” Her father didn’t yell. That wasn’t in his nature. He spoke with authority and determination. There wasn’t any doubt that what he was saying wasn’t up for debate.

“I don’t need your money,” said Arlene. “Mom, believes in me.”

Her father scowled at the paper he was reading. He shrugged at his daughter.

“That’s all you’re going to do?” Arlene stamped her foot in frustration.

He folded his paper neatly and sat it in front of him. He looked over the rim of his glasses at her. “What would you have me do? You want me to be hysterical like you?”

“I’m not hysterical. You just aren’t listening to me.”

“Fine. Tell me why I should pay for something that is a waste of time.”

“You know what?” Arlene shook her head. She wiped the tear that was forming in one corner of her eye. “I’m leaving. Bye.”

They hadn’t spoken since that fight.

****

Arlene tapped her chin as she thought about what she should do. She had only the faintest idea of how to contact her dad. They hadn’t talked in over a decade, but he was a creature of habit. She was sure he would have the same phone number. She considered asking her mom, but she was less likely to know anything than Arlene was.

She dialed her dad’s number. It rang and rang. Eventually his answering machine picked up. She didn’t leave a message and just hung up.

She really didn’t know any other way of contacting him. She wasn’t sure where he even worked, though she had to guess by the phone call that she wasn’t really supposed to know.

The caller had seemed to believe they had unquestionable authority. So, most likely her dad was working for a government agency. They also had that tone when asking questions.

Arlene was truly at a loss about what to do. They wouldn’t have called her for no reason. She sighed. She didn’t want to be mixed up in anything, especially when it came to her dad, but she had a weird feeling that something was horribly wrong.

Her dad would say she was just being dramatic, but she had always followed her heart more than her head. Her dad was practical and logical. He was a physicist and everything was quantifiable and factual to him. Arlene didn’t live in that world with him, and it had created their irreparable rift. Even if her dad didn’t believe in her feelings, Arlene trusted them. Right then, she was getting a terrible sinking feeling about her dad and whatever he was involved with.

She didn’t know what to do, so she called her mom.

After a few rings, her mom answered.

“Hello?” she said sounding sleepy.

“Mom, it’s Arlene. I’m sorry to bother you on your trip. I hope you’re having a great time, but something has happened.” She said all of this in one breath.

“Arlene?” Her mother sat up and shook her groggy head. “What is going on? Are you okay?”

“Mom, I’m fine. It’s dad.”

There was a long pause. “What are talking about Arlene?”

Arlene told her mother about the strange call.

“I don’t know what is going on with you father, but you should stay out of it. He can handle his own affairs.”

“You’re right,” said Arlene. She sighed. “Okay, thanks Mom. Enjoy your trip. Can’t wait to see all the pictures when you get back.”

They hung up. Arlene stood there and then started pacing. She was deeply conflicted about what to do. Her mother was right, but she couldn’t just ignore the feeling. It was growing. She knew something was wrong. She just knew it.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her keys. It was an hour drive to her dad’s, but it was the only place she could think to start.

The whole drive she kept hoping that she was just being dramatic and that nothing was actually happening. When she pulled into her dad’s driveway, she knew something was definitely wrong.

From in her car, she saw that the front door was open. There wasn’t any way her dad left it that way. He was the most predictable and routing person she knew.

She hesitated. Should she go inside? She had to make sure that her dad wasn’t there, plus she might need to call the police. She walked slowly from her car into the house.

She closed the door and scanned the front room. Everything was knocked over. Books were on the floor. Couch cushions were shredded. Every drawer or cabinet was opened and emptied. The room was beyond trashed. Someone had been looking for something.

She went into every room. Each one was just like the front room. The contents of everything were thrown everywhere. Whoever had been searching even went into the bathroom and opened toiletries. There was a liquid mess of soaps and toothpaste in the sink. Arelne almost turned on the faucet to wash it down.

She stayed her hand as she reached out. She needed to call the police. She pulled out her cell phone, but she noticed it wasn’t getting any signal. That didn’t make any sense.

She made her way back through the house and was heading outside. She opened the front door and there were six men in dark suits standing there. Before she could speak to them, they pushed their way in and filled the living room. Arlene stumbled back over the mess.

They were blocking her way out.

“Arlene Fitzsimmons, you’re coming with us.”

She backed away and tripped over something on the floor. “I can’t help you,” she said almost in tears already.

“Grab her,” said the same goon.