The phone rings. Once. Twice. Three times…
It rings again and again until the voicemail picks up. With a sigh, I end the call and put my phone on the end table. I roll onto my back, wondering what it is he’s doing and why he can’t answer…
Is he ignoring me? No, he wouldn’t do that. I don’t know how I know that about him, I just do. Jack isn’t that kind of person. He’ll talk to me when he’s ready. But I want to make sure he knows that it’s okay, so I roll over and pick up my phone again to send him a quick text.
Me: Call me when you can. I’d like to talk. Don’t care how late it is.
I don’t expect him to answer me, so I put the phone back down and then roll over with the intention of falling asleep, but then my phone starts to vibrate, the pattern instantly recognized.
It’s Jack.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hi,” he breaths out, sounding tired. “I’m sorry about today.”
“Don’t be. I’ve actually thought a lot about what you said, and you had a point.”
“It was unfair of me to lash out at you like that over something you know nothing about.”
“Are you busy tomorrow?” I ask instead of going back and forth with whether he should have to apologize.
“I’m working during the day, but I’m off at four.”
“Can you come by? I’d like to make dinner for us, and talk.” When he doesn’t answer me, I keep going. “It’s nothing bad. In fact, I think it’ll be really good for us.”
“Okay, sure. That would be nice.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then? After work?”
“I’ll head straight there.”
“Good night, Jack.”
“Night, Andy.”
* * *
A buzzing sound interrupts my sleep. I try to ignore it, rolling over and willing it away. It stops for a moment and I nuzzle my face into the pillow, getting more comfortable with the intention of going back to sleep. The buzzing only starts up again and that’s when I realize it’s my phone. A wave of panic washes over me, wondering who could be calling me at this hour and why. Even without looking at the clock yet, I know it’s late. I can sense it. I push up to a seated position and grab my phone. It’s an unknown number, which is even stranger, considering it’s a little passed one o’clock in the morning.
I end the call, figuring it’s spam or something, placing it on my lap and running a hand through my hair as I take a deep breath. The phone starts to vibrate again with the same phone number, so this time I answer it. Spam callers are annoying, but to call this many times in a row?
“Hello?” My voice is raspy, sleep-filled.
“Hello, sir, I’m looking for Anderson Michaels.” The person on the other end of the call sounds official, and I’m even more confused.
“This is Anderson Michaels,” I say cautiously.
“This is Officer Neal Brown. We have your son, Zachary, here and he needs to be picked up.”
“My son?” I ask as I get to my feet, gripping the phone in my hand tightly. Zachary is upstairs, sleeping. I saw him in his room just after I helped Delilah get ready for bed.
“Yes, sir. Zachary Michaels.”
“How… what? Is he okay?”
“Oh he’s fine, sir. Not a hair on his head harmed, but he is in some trouble. We can talk about it more when you come down here.”
Trouble? Zach is in trouble? What the hell…
“Yeah, okay. I’ll, uh… I’ll be there in twenty minutes. What’s the address?”
He gives the address to me and I type it into the notes section of my phone, thank him, then hang up and get dressed, all the while still not a clue about what is going on. How the hell is Zachary at the police station? He was just here… As soon as I start to climb the bed, it hits me. He must have left, snuck out.
Why the hell did he leave? Where did he go? Who was he with?
I try to tamp back my anger as I walk up the stairs, knowing I now have to wake up his seven-year-old sister, bring her out of the house to go get him. She has school tomorrow. Hell, he has school tomorrow. This is not okay. Nope, not okay at all. My mind is reeling, thoughts racing. He’s never done this before… or has he? Maybe he’s been doing this all along? For years even? Maybe he’s been doing things behind my back for a long time and I’ve never known.
I grit my teeth and quietly make my way into Delilah’s room and gently shake her awake.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Lala, but we have to go get Zach.”
“Huh? What?” she says sleepily, not even opening her eyes, just snuggling Mr. Fluffers tighter.
“We have to go for a ride, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Here, I’ll carry you, okay?”
She mumbles something incoherently as I pick her up, bending back down to get Mr. Fluffers because if she wakes up enough to know I left him home alone, she’ll be upset.
I make my way downstairs, my daughter in my arms, and head outside. Somehow, I manage to get Delilah into the car without dropping her or waking her up, then get into the front and put the address into the GPS. The ride takes about fifteen minutes, and I park as close to the front door as possible, gathering up Delilah before going inside. All the way, I’m trying to convince myself to stay cool, and not get pissed at Zach. I know I said I would handle him going through some things, it’s expected, but why the hell did this have to happen? Couldn’t it have been at a normal hour and not the middle of the night?
“Hi, I’m Anderson Michaels. I received a call to pick up my son, Zachary.” I don’t wait for a greeting when I reach the front desk, just talk. The woman sitting in the chair behind it, looks up at me with a tired smile.
“Who was the officer that called?”
“Uh, something Brown?”
She nods and picks up the phone that’s sitting on the desk as she gestures towards the seats along the back wall. With a sigh, I go over and take a seat, shifting Delilah onto my lap in a way that’s comfortable for both of us so she can hopefully stay asleep and not be tired tomorrow.
Her soft snores fill my ears as we wait, her head resting on my shoulder. It isn’t a long wait, probably about five minutes, before an officer walks out from the door behind the desk. He’s short, a little stocky. Dark hair and eyes. He moves towards me, stopping just in front of me.
“Mr. Michaels?”
“That’s me,” I say as I start to get up. He gestures for me to stay sitting, so I do.
“I’m sorry you had to come down here at this time of night.”
“It’s not your fault. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Your son, Zachary, was caught driving without a license.”
“What?” I say loudly, causing Lala to stir in my arms. I rub her back and shush her softly, hoping she’ll stay asleep. I’m careful to keep my voice low when I speak next. “Whose car was he driving?”
“Well, he isn’t entirely sure.”
I close my eyes for a second and take in a deep breath, letting it out before opening my eyes. “How is that possible?”
The officer takes a seat beside me, giving me a sympathetic smile. “Your son was at a party with some kids from his school. There was underage drinking, and possibly some drug use.” I open my mouth to probably lose my damn mind, but he holds up his hand, shaking his head. “Zachary hasn’t had anything to drink, and we’re pretty sure he hasn’t used any drugs either. It’s one of the reasons we called you to come get him, instead of keeping him.”
I continue to run my hang along Delilah’s back, using the motion to keep me grounded.
“Then why take the car?”
“He had a girl with him, who, unfortunately, was both high and drunk, borderline unconscious. Zachary claims he was taking her to the hospital.”
“Why wouldn’t he just call an ambulance? He knows better.”
“Said the girl told him not to. That her dad would find out that way, and she’d be in trouble.”
“Who exactly is this girl?”
“Nadine Lawrence.”