I shuddered to think what she would do if she found out about it. She’d probably have my ex murdered and somehow conceal it from the police.
Then I closed my eyes and thought of how her eyes looked when she became Scary Mom and changed my mind. She’d probably murder him herself.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked it to see if my mother tried to reach out at all.
There was nothing on my screen, which struck me as odd. Usually, she’d text me something by midday if I was out of the house and she was home. Something small just to check in on me.
But my blank phone screen told me one of two things: She was either home and not thinking about me, or she was out and about somewhere…
I leaned toward the latter.
“The police are keeping an eye on my mom, right?” I asked Adam.
I still couldn’t take my eyes off of how amazing he looked in that cop uniform. So stoic; so in control.
“Yeah, that’s what Nick is doing today,” he answered. “Why, are you worried?”
I nodded.
“No problem, I’ll give Nick a call here…” he said.
There was a pause as he dialed, pressing a number on his dash.
Nick answered as a garbled tone that came through the speaker. I couldn’t make out a word he said.
“Hey buddy,” Adam greeted, “Could you give me a status update on Mrs. DuPont?”
Garbled noises were coming over the speaker. I thought to myself that this must be some kind of hidden language that only cops understood.
“Great, thanks!” Adam said, then pressed a button and the call went silent.
His face was unreadable.
“Well? Is she okay? Where is she?” I asked, the familiar anxiety twirling in my gut like it was having a party in there. Only, this time it was muted. Like it was trapped underwater or something. I felt happy at the thought; the thought of finally, maybe being in control of my anxiety.
“Haha, yeah, she’s alright. Though she’s driving around aimlessly right now. Nick’s keeping tabs on her though, he’ll make sure she’ll be alright.”
I relaxed, releasing a tension that I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“You’re still worried,” Adam gathered. “If it’s any comfort, know that this is very common behavior for people to have after something like a divorce.”
It didn’t comfort me. I saw the look on my mom’s face as she threw plates at me. Then I remembered.
“She said I can’t go back to school,” I said, deflating.
“And you’re going to listen to her?” Adam asked. “Luke, you’re in control of your own life. Don’t let anyone ever take that control away from you. Unless it’s for fun, consensual things of course…” he winked.
I sat up a little straighter in my seat and felt myself become imbued with strength.
He was right. I was the one in control of my life. I was letting my mother do to me the same thing that I’d let my ex do to me. I was subconsciously relinquishing control of myself and letting her direct my actions.
But not anymore.
“Thank you; I needed to hear that,” I said quietly.
For some reason, Adam’s words tore a sheet away from my eyes and I was looking at the world and everyone in it with a newfound clarity.
Control. That’s what I’d always wanted; that’s what I’d always given away. I’d been giving it away as a means to try and control myself. But I needed to focus on controlling my environment, and the circumstances around me. That was something I could do.
“I’m going back to school next week, then,” I said with finality. As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I was stricken by panic. “Oh my God, the semester starts next week! It’s going to be September!”
Adam smiled. “Guess we’re going to have to get all of your stuff set up then, aren’t we?” he said.
I beamed.
“How about I take you shopping when my shift is over, just you and me?” he asked. “For clothes and stuff. I want you to feel like a new person.”
I shrunk down in my seat, not letting myself believe that someone wanted to… wanted to buy me things. “I don’t have any money… I can’t pay you back.”
He snickered. “Don’t worry, I’m loaded.”
I didn’t say anything.
He added, “Come on, let me take care of you. It makes me happy to do it. It makes me feel like I’m… I don’t know, it makes me feel manly or something. Look at it this way: You’re doing me a favor by letting me buy you stuff that you like.”
“I dunno…” I said, the thoughts of owing people things coming to the forefront of my mind. I’d never had someone want to buy me things before…
“Look, you can either come with me to let me buy clothes for you, or you can wait and I’ll just buy them for you. But you wouldn’t be with me, so I might get the sizes wrong.”
I pictured myself in a shirt where the fabric would be straining across my chest, the buttons threatening to pop off. Right after that image, the thought of me in a too-large short-sleeve button-down swam to the surface of my mind. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Okay,” I relented. “We’re going to Zara.
* * *
At five p.m. after a day of driving the cop car around the town, I was happy but exhausted. I learned of so much gossip. Mrs. Carr was having trouble with her son, Tim, who had recently set that house on fire. They weren’t able to put him away for that as the homeowner decided not to press charges; Tim convinced them it was an accident.
“I’m sure the insurance money helped them make their decision to let him off the hook,” Adam said with a smile.
“…every time I’ve talked to Mrs. Carr, she’s always tried to make me feel like I was doing worse than her son.”
“HAH. In what way? Tim Carr is the biggest screw-up I’ve seen
