Page 3 of Bourbon & Bonfires
“No, Mason. Youneedto get it together and stop being so hateful. I am not doing this with you. Please give me your phone. I’ll order a pizza, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. I’ve taken the morning off, so we can have a conversation.”
“I don’t need a conversation, Mother. Mr. Torres was wrong. I was the victim in this.”
“It doesn’t matter what caused the argument, Mason. The school has a zero-tolerance policy. You and Charlie were both suspended. Look, I’m tired and don’t want to argue anymore. You’ve said some things you can’t take back, and I need to sit on that for tonight. I’ll order the pizza and let you know when it’s here.”
Turning to walk away, I’m stopped in my tracks when I hear my baby speak. “Mama?” I spin on my heel to look at him. Standing before me is a different child than two minutes ago. Gone is the bravado and attitude and their place stands my sweet boy full of life and love, the one I raised and the one who used to curl up in my lap to watch movies. But I know this version of Mason is short-lived. “I’m sorry I said those things. I know you aren’t the reason Dad left. I love you, Mama; please don’t hate me.”
I bend over and place Mason’s electronics on the floor and step toward my son. The boy who, just a year ago, was eye level with me is now looking down at me as I approach him. It’s not that he’s tall, per se, I’m just really short.
“Son, I love you more than anything else in this world. But let this be a life lesson for you. Sometimes the words you say hurt and once they’re said, they cannot be taken back. I will love you until the day I die, but right now I’m hurting, and I need some time. I think you need the time too. I’ll let you know when the pizza is here.” I step up to my tippy toes and place a kiss on his cheek and walk away, leaving my baby standing at his door, and hope this little bit of tough love I grew up receiving will help him. It’s killing me, but I hope it helps him.
When we were kids, our parents rarely had to punish us. I was a total bookworm and spent my free time reading or hanging out with my friends. The minute I was old enough to work, I took the first job offered. Sure, I came home smelling like french fries and ketchup, but I loved working and having my own money. My parents never said it, but I think not having to worry about me running the streets or having to supplement a social life was a relief.
My brother was a jock through and through and by his sophomore year of high school had settled into the role of star football player. If he wasn’t playing, he was conditioning or working. Part of me is frustrated with the younger versions of Taylor and me, because if one of us had been a problem, I could rely on how my parents handled us to deal with Mason and his issues.
One of my co-workers suggested I look into counseling for him, but when I mentioned it in passing one night, you would have thought I told Mason I was selling him to Martians. No, what he needs is his father. Unfortunately, both Mason and I are still waiting for our return calls from Dan, following my meeting with the school. That was three weeks ago.
Since the fight at school, and the less than stellar words Mason slung at me, life has been pretty quiet around our house. Although I jump each time my phone rings, fearing it’s the school again, I’m hoping we may make it to the Thanksgiving break without another incident.
“Addy?”
“Yeah, Janet?” I reply with my head in the supply cabinet.
“You have a call.”
“Is it Mrs. Cutlin again? I swear, that woman is going to drive me to an early grave. I told her last week it was not possible for her to conceive a child. Never mind she’s seventy-four, but she had a tubal ligation thirty years ago.”
“I know, she called earlier but I had someone else talk to her. No, this is ... umm ...”
The trepidation I hear in Janet’s voice is concerning and I peer around the door to look at her. “Who is it? Is everything okay?” I begin quickly thinking of every scenario that would warrant someone to call me on the office line and not my cell phone.
“It’s an Officer Melton? He said he tried calling your cell, but it went straight to voicemail.”
I pull my phone from my pocket and sure enough, it’s powered off. I must not have turned it on this morning. Shit. Wait, did she say officer? “Did you say officer? As in police? Oh my God, is it Mason?” Without a second thought, I slam shut the supply door and rush to the nearest phone, glancing at Janet.
“Line three,” Janet says before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Janet is very kind, and if she thought this was serious news, she wouldn’t leave me alone. Maybe someone broke into my house. Or hit my car in the parking lot. That makes sense.
“Hello? This is Addison Sinclair.”
“Mrs. Sinclair, this is Officer Melton. I have your son, Mason, here with me.”
“Is he okay? Has he been injured? In some sort of accident?”
“No, ma’am. We’re going to need you to come down to the station and complete some paperwork. The store has agreed not to press charges, but we’ll still need you to take possession of the minor.”
Charges? Store? Dear Lord, what has he done?
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.”
Sliding down the wall, I sit on the floor of the supply room and cry. I give up. I can’t do this alone anymore, and clearly, I can’t depend on Dan. I will not let my son ruin his future with the ongoing poor life choices he’s making. I know in my heart Mason is a good boy and will make a wonderful man. I just no longer know how to make that happen on my own. I never give up, and I won’t start now, but it’s obvious we need a change.
I take my cell phone from my pocket and while it powers on, I wipe my fallen tears with a tissue. Glancing at the calendar hanging on the wall I count nine days until winter break. That’s plenty of time to put this plan into motion. If I know my brother, he’ll be here by the weekend with a moving truck ready to help. And this time I won’t say no.
Me: Hey baby brother. That doctor still need a nurse?
Taylor: Last I heard.
Me: Text me the information and while you’re at it, find me a house. Looks like we’re moving to Lexington.