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“No, it went well. But I saw the moving boxes and mistakenly thought he was coming back here.”
“Oh, snap. That’s why you weren’t so sad?”
I nod. “Not only was I wrong, but I was really wrong. I apologized for the wrong things when I saw him.”
I stand up and head to the kitchen. He ties the blanket around him like a cape and pads after me. He works on some hot chocolate while I get the coffee ready. He calls hot cocoa his coffee. We work in silence in the kitchen for a moment.
“Mom, don’t kill me, but I’m gonna say some stuff.”
“Go ahead.” I pour some creamer into a mug I picked up from Wawa last time I was in Philly as the coffee slowly drips.
“I feel like every sacrifice or rule you put in place to keep everyone and everything moving forward is pushing down on you. Like everything you’ve ever done since you accidentally got pregnant has been for me.”
I pull him to me. “And I regret nothing.” I snap my face to his and purse my lips.
“Not even letting Liam in?” He hugs me, and I start crying in earnest now.
“How are you wiser than anyone in our family?”
“Jesus, someone had to learn the lessons of our past. I mean, you drilled it into me to be my own person. ‘Don’t make their mistakes. Make your own.’ But you’re a slave to all of it.”
I pull back from him.
“Sorry you got saddled with me, kid.”
“You’re the best. Way better than my other options. We’re good. Also, your phone has been popping off since, like, early this morning.”
I grab it, and my face falls a bit when I see that it’s a hospital facility. I listen to the messages; there’s some insurance problem with my dad. I know he checked himself out again. My brother let me know, so I assume this is a morbid call.
“E. Go watch something. I have to make a call.”
“Nope. You’re done protecting me. Stop it. What’s this about? Is he dead? That’s the call you’re waiting for, isn’t it?”
My body breaks down and my limbs go loose. I hold onto the cement kitchen counter for support. I look at my bold and unique son, who truly is a better and more well-adjusted human than I will ever be. At this moment, I’m brave enough to let down this barrier. The one that keeps all the bad away from Ethan because I was stupid or naive enough to think I could actually accomplish that. I’m a moron.
“Yes. I’m always waiting for them to call me and tell me he’s dead.”
“And you never think it’s going to be good news?”
“No. I’ve been conditioned to expect the opposite.”
“Seems like an awful waste of time. Call them. Find out if you’re right or I’m right. Is he dead, or is it good news? If it’s good, you have to start to expect good things will happen.”
“I expected Fletch to move back here.”
“Well, there’s that. I mean, it was a good start at expecting the best, Mom. But terribly misguided. Love the hustle, though. We’ll circle back here in a minute. Call them.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I hate that I’m burdening him, but maybe I’m not.
“Hello, this is Jillien Meier. You called about my father, Jeffery Thompson.”
“Yes. It seems he’s lost his insurance card, and we’re trying to process a claim. We just need to verify the last couple of numbers.”
I pull the card out of my wallet, completely confused.
“Um. I have it here. I can email you a picture of the front and back of the card. But where am I sending it, and why? Is he ok?”
“That’s information I can only disclose to his chosen contact. But you can send it to info@AvenuesRecoveryCommunity.”
