The sun streams into my room, making it hard to sleep. I yank the blankets over my head and lie there for a few minutes. I can hear Saturday-morning cartoons coming from Duncan’s tv. He’s got it turned up way too loud.
I glance at my clock. It’s 8:00.
“Yes!” I whip off the blankets and jump out of bed. Mom’s already in the shower when I knock on her door. Normally she’d be dead to the world. I guess she really did mean what she said last night.
I bang on the bathroom door. “Mom! Mom!”
“What’s wrong?” she yells. “Is everything all right?”
“I’ve got tell you something! It’s super important.”
“Okay, okay…just give me a minute.”
I plop down on her bed and wait.
“Okay, now what’s so important?” she asks, coming out of the bathroom.
I begin to tell her, but I’m talking way too fast.
“Hey, hey, slow down,” she says. “You called who?”
“The Kids Help Phone.”
“Why would you call there?” She sits down beside me.
“Well, um, I wanted help. Here, I wrote it all down.” I pass her the paper with all the information. “You’re not going to believe it, Mom.”
“What exactly did you tell this person?”
“A bunch of stuff.”
“Like what, Max?”
I shrug my shoulders. “About the fire, and how everything has changed now that Dad’s gone and…”
She stares at the note and then looks away.
“What’s the matter, Mom? I thought you’d be happy.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” she says, shaking her head.
I bite my lip. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was only trying to help.” I glance down at my feet. It’s not going right. Why isn’t she happy? A lump lodges in my throat. “I’m really sorry about the kitchen and not staying with Duncan. I shouldn’t have—”
She squeezes my hand. “The kitchen can be repaired, Max. I’m just thankful nothing more serious happened. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you boys.” Her voice trails off. “You’re all I have.” She wipes her eyes. “You know, Mr. Cooper reminded me of something Daddy would have said.”
“Like what?”
“Well, that we all make mistakes and do things we’re not proud of. But if we learn from them, they’re sort of a blessing.”
She takes a deep breath. “Ever since Daddy died, I’ve been struggling to get through each day. I’m sorry things have been so tough for you.” She pauses. “It’s time I get back into the driver’s seat. I’ve been in the backseat for far too long.”
“I just want to play hockey,” I say quietly. “It’s the one thing that reminds me of Dad. It’s weird, but when I skate, it’s like he’s right there with me.”
Mom wraps her arms around me. “Let’s take it one day at a time, and we’ll see what we come up with.” She kisses me on the top of my head and says, “Dad would be so proud of you.”
“I miss him,” I whisper.
“I do too.”
We sit there for a few minutes not saying anything.
“You know, Max, you’re just like him.”
“I am?” I can feel myself grinning.
Mom smiles. “That you are.”
“So, are you going to call?”
She looks at the note. “Of course I am. Why don’t you let me get dressed and give me a minute to let this all sink in.” She stares at the note. “I still can’t believe you did this—for us.”