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It's nowhere near a finished story, but the bones of it are good.
Just when I'm getting to a good part, I'm startled when Chris busts through the door.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. "I thought your dad was bringing you home tomorrow."
"We got in an argument. I told him I wanted to go home, and he told me to walk."
He goes to walk off to his room, but I have about a hundred questions. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. Get over here and tell me what happened."
"It doesn't matter," he mumbles.
"Of course it matters. Why would you say that?"
He finally looks at me. With a raised voice, he says, "Because you won't do anything about it!"
"Okay, I feel like you're on step number ten, and I'm back on step number one. Why are you mad at me?"
He pushes his hair out of his face. "Because you let him walk all over you."
His words hit me like a punch in the gut. "I… I don't… " I stammer over my words.
"You may think that I am just a kid, but that doesn't mean I don't notice things. I hear all the mean things he says to you."
Tears sting my eyes. "I never wanted you to hear any of that. That's why I do my best to keep everything civil."
"Well, no offense, Mom, but you're doing a shit job. Because not only is he being awful to you, but he's starting to take it out on Tanner."
"What are you talking about?"
"He didn't tell you that he pulled Tanner over and arrested him? Because he sure as heck was bragging about it to his buddies all day. He pulled him over for speeding and then charged him with assaulting a police officer."
"What?" I practically yell. "Why wouldn't Tanner tell me?"
"Would it have done any good? Or would you keep looking the other way?"
I feel like I'm going to vomit. I guess that's a pretty damn good reason as to why Tanner has been acting so weird lately.
"Mom, we like Tanner, and I think you do too, but you're letting dad run him right out of our lives. I got mad at him and told him that I didn't like him talking about you or Tanner, and he started yelling. When I yelled back, he slapped me. I wanted to come home, but he told me to walk. So, I did."
"He slapped you?"
In this moment, my thirteen-year-old, who is now taller than me, looks like a scared little kid. I didn't keep my promise to protect my baby boy.
Grabbing my keys off the table, I say, "I need you to watch your brothers. I'll call and see if your grandpa can come over and hang out."
Storming out the front door, only one word keeps playing over and over again in my mind.
Enough.
Chapter Thirty-two
Erin
Onthedrive,Icall my dad and get him to come over and sit with the kids for a while. Of course, he jumped at the chance.
Ten minutes later, I pull into Judd’s driveway. I don’t wait before getting out of the car because I don’t want to lose my nerve. As if the sky opened up just for me, it’s pouring down rain as I walk to the door.
The pit that normally occupies my stomach anytime I have to deal with Judd is now replaced with white hot rage.
