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“Thanks, Raffi.”
The boy has never stopped to amaze me with his care and attention. Perhaps channeling his inner big brother that can never become a reality.
Or can it?
My ass falls onto the couch like a stone. I lean back, huffing.
“So it wasn’t the boat?” Raffi hands me the cup.
“Apparently not. Maybe I ate something bad.”
“Well, you ate what I ate, and I’m fine.” He stares at me. “I’m sorry, Mom. Am I upsetting you?”
“No, no!” I rub his arm. “I’m not upset. I’m just a bit sick.”
“You miss Clayton.”
“Raffi!” I almost choke on the tea I’m sipping.
“Why? If we go back to California, we can be together again, and Uncle Don won’t come to us. Clayton will protect us.”
“Please, no more Clayton talk.”
Raffi lets out a growl.
“Look, Raffi. I know you’re tired and you’re bored. Please, give me a couple of days to think about what to do.”
His lips stay pursed.
I pull him close. Sweat and all, he’s my life, and I will truly die if he’s not with me. I give him a kiss which he almost turns his face away from.
“Hey, can’t I kiss you now?”
He twists his lips, I’m sure telling meI’m too old for that. Really, those teenagers at the YMCA basketball club seem to have made my boy grow up a few years in just a matter of weeks.
“You have a shower first, Mom. I’m still sweating.” He shakes the neckline of his singlet.
I smile, agreeing with him. I usually warn him not to have a shower when he’s sweating like that. Clearly, today he remembers it better than I do.
“Mom…”
“Yes, Raffi?”
“Can I call Dime?”
A pang of guilt stings my chest. He and his best friend haven’t spoken since we left California. I’ve kept denying him a call, delaying his frustration.
“Of course. Talk to him. Just don’t tell him where we are, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees. “Can I call Matty after that?”
The two had grown close. Back in California, they talked and played online almost every day. Since we ran away, Raffi has hardly complained. Only now it dawns on me how much I’ve disrupted my son’s life. “Of course, baby. Call Matty.”
Instead of heading to the bathroom, I scan the living room.
“What are you looking for?” Raffi asks.
“Oh, um, the bag from the chemist.”
