He takes the train to Penn Station and goes directly from there to meet some college friends who are in town.
At 12:35 a.m. I text him.
T is a friend from college.
I still can't sleep knowing my son is out. Maybe it's unreasonable to expect him to come home by three, but I need to work in the morning. At least when he's not home, I don't know what time he gets in. I wonder if all mothers are like this.
I work on Saturday and call Alexander when I'm leaving to come home. His good college friend Daniel from LA is in town and they are on the way to the movies.
I fall into a restless sleep and am awoken at 3:00 by a loud, persistent banging. After 20 minutes I go downstairs to investigate.
My lobby is empty. My worthless doorman has left a note that he is who-knows-where-doing-who-knows-what and has locked the outer door. Outside banging are my son, Daniel, and two of our neighbors.
Finally, the doorman returns and everyone is let in. No one, understandably, is happy. "Where were you? We were outside knocking for twenty minutes!" they ask. But the doorman, who strangely has a friend with him, accuses all five of us of lying and says, "I was only gone for five minutes!" Ridiculous.
So I talk to Alexander and Daniel for about ten minutes before falling back to sleep.
A few hours later, around six, Alexander wakes me to say good-bye. I don't think he and Daniel even bothered to sleep.
Not much of a visit but still, I'll take what I can get.
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