It’s already past 10 o’ clock at night and still no word from him. He’s usually home by 5:30. And this is the first time, ever…that he hasn’t at least told me he wasn’t coming home.
No call to say he’d be late. Nothing.
I tried to call his cellphone, the one he always jumps to answer any other time and there was no answer. I tried again and hour later…no answer.
My youngest son asked me earlier this evening why Daddy didn’t come home anymore. I just gave him a big hug and told him I loved him.
My oldest son asked where he was before he went to bed. I told him that I didn’t know. He stopped and turned around with this very protective look in his eye that I’ve never seen before and gave me a hug and then grabbed my hand and had me follow him up to bed and tuck him in. He gave me another big hug and told me he loved me. I just smiled and told him I loved him too.
Then I went and took a shower. I crumbled up in the tub, held my knees, rocked myself and cried…