Especially if he knows his father isn’t there, Megan silently added. “What about Boyd Fletcher?” It was important when she talked to Gerry that she be able to honestly tell him what had become of his father. Telling Gerry what was going to happen to him next, that he would probably be removed from his home and placed in foster care, was going to be hard. Megan had been forced to do that before, and those situations had never gone well.
“He’s going to the hoosegow for the night,” Helen said. “Resisting arrest is going to guarantee that. Then I’ll be adding new charges in the morning.”
Megan took her cell phone from her pocket. “I’m going to keep looking out here. And I’ll call Tonya.”
Helen nodded. “I’ve got to shut this alarm off and call it in to base security as a false alarm before I have a platoon of young men waiting to be the next Bruce Willis arrive here. I’ll pass the word along to the MPs. They can help look for Gerry.”
“Thanks, Helen.” Megan was grateful for the assistance and the positive attitude that the other woman brought to the situation. With Helen around, nothing seemed impossible.
Helen closed the door and took away the yellow rectangle of light that spilled out onto the parking lot from the hospital’s emergency exit. Under the mercury vapor lights that illuminated the parking lot, the landscape and the cars appeared in grays and blacks, as lifeless and alien as the moon.
Megan pressed the cell phone’s keypad. The screen flashed on, ghastly green-gray. She’d missed three calls. While she’d been talking to Gerry, she’d muted the ringer out of habit. She mentally harangued herself. She was out of the house, Goose was in danger, Joey was God-only-knew-where, and Chris was in child care. What had she been thinking?
But she knew what she’d been thinking about: Gerry Fletcher sitting in the hospital emergency room. That was one of the aspects about her life that got really confusing: how could she be a mom and a wife and a counselor and expect to do a good job at any of those?
During one of the infrequent sessions with Bill when he’d been visiting, she’d talked about trying to balance her life. Bill, relying on his faith, of course, had said that all works God intended for a person to perform would be given balance. The key was to trust in His guidance in all things at all times. That was hard to do because she cared so much about her man, her sons, and the kids entrusted to her care.
With a little guilt, she realized that she hadn’t even considered the time needed to be spent being a good Christian.
She stared at the cell phone screen where Joey’s number stood out in sharp relief. So what was it to be: mother or counselor?
Joey, she decided, and felt a twinge of guilt. With so many things out of her control, she needed to know that her son was all right. She would be able to focus more on Gerry when she found him.
The phone rang once before Joey answered. “Mom?”
“Joey, are you all right?” Megan walked toward the far end of the parking lot. Three young men sat in a dark blue muscle car she felt certain Goose would have identified in an instant.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
Thank You, God.
“Mom,” Joey said, “I’m sorry I missed curfew.”
Remembering how Gerry was afraid of his father, knowing that she had never had—would never have—a relationship like that with either of her sons, Megan kept calm, reminding herself how thankful she was that Joey was okay.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Megan said. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”
“I know.”
Megan heard traffic over the phone connection. “Where are you?”
“Just a few minutes from the base,” Joey said. “I’m on my way to pick up Chris.”
“Thank you, Joey. I appreciate that a lot.”
He was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for him.”
“You can be there for him now,” she said. “That’s the important thing. I don’t know when I’m going to be home, and I really didn’t want him waking up in a child-care facility.”
“I got it covered, Mom.” Some of the hesitation and guilt faded from Joey’s voice.
Megan knew that was because he was in his element as oldest child. He had a task and a responsibility. “Thank you, Joey.” She stared at the muscle car where the three young men talked. From their haircuts, she deduced that they were soldiers.
“Have you heard anything about Goose?” Joey asked.
Megan had to halt herself from automatically correcting her son and telling him to refer to Goose as his dad. For a while, before Chris had been born, Joey had started calling Goose “Dad,” but that had gone away within weeks after Chris’s birth.
“I haven’t heard anything,” Megan replied.
Joey was silent for a moment.
“Honey,” Megan said, “I’ve really got to go. This is an emergency situation. I’ll tell you about it in the morning. After tonight is over, I think I’d like to talk to someone about this.”
“All right, Mom,” Joey said. “You know I’m there for you.”
Both of them, Megan was certain, felt uncomfortable with that customary response after the missed curfew tonight. “I love you, Joey.”
“I know, Mom.” He hesitated just long enough for her to know that he wasn’t alone. “I love you, too. I’ll see you whenever you get home. If I’m not there by the time you need to get to school—”
“I’ll get The Squirt off and get myself to school,” Joey said. “Promise.”
“You still have lunch money?”
“Yes, Mom.” The exasperated tone in his voice told her that she’d just stepped into one of those child/adult potholes that made the journey through the teen years so rocky for the parents and children.
Megan curbed her own response. Pointing out that Joey hadn’t been adult enough to hit his curfew would have done no good and only destroyed the good
