He Waited
Another Sunday Story
Jared looked again at his phone. Again there was nothing.
He highlighted his father's name for the third time. He left a third message.
He waited.
Another hour passed.
The second hour now.
Finally, he called his mom. She answered on the first ring, but not with hello. She knew better.
"What's the matter? Why are you calling me?"
"Mom," Jared said.
"Where's your father? What did he do?"
"Mom," Jared repeated. "Can you just come pick me up?"
"Pick you up? From your dad's?"
Jared swallowed hard. He wanted to protect him. As much as he hated him, he also wanted to protect him.
"No, from school."
"School? What do you mean school Jared? It's six thirty at night."
"I know."
"Are you saying he never came?"
There was no way not to tell her. There was no way for it not to be true.
"No," he replied simply.
"Your fucking father never picked you up?" she yelled.
He could hear something slam down then. It sounded like his heart. Slamming down.
"Jared?"
"No, Mom. He never picked me up."
There was no sound then.
His mother didn't speak because of her anger and Jared didn't speak because of the painful lump in his throat. And both of them remembered. They remembered all of the other times. All of them.
"I'll be right there," she finally said softly.
"OK. Thanks Mom," he slowly said back.
Jared looked again at his phone. Again there was nothing.
He highlighted his father's name for the last time. He left a last message.
He waited.
