“Listen,
I can’t talk right now, “ the pretty 20-something girl behind me says into her
phone.
“I
told you. I can’t talk. I’m on the bus.”
“I’m
going to my improv class. I go every
Sunday at this time. Don’t you remember? I told you.” She is now getting testy.
“I’ll
call you later when I can talk. Bye.”
It’s the impatience in her
voice that’s the giveaway.
I
turn around, and with certainty ask, “Your mother, right?” She smiles and says yes.
Are all kids like this with
their mothers?
I text Alexander this
afternoon. “Please call me; thx.”
Six hours later and I’m
still waiting.
- Could he be on a long bus ride home to surprise me?
- In the library studying through dinner?
- Ignoring me?
- Or just forgotten?
I hope for A. Expect him to
say B. But know it’s C or D.
Finally I call. “Oh, hi," he says. "Sorry, I forgot to call you back. But I can't talk. I'm with Daniel. We're about to watch a movie."
At least when I don't hear from him I know better than to worry. But still, I do. I'm a mother after all. That's what mothers do.
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