Page 48 of A Week Away
“I wanted it so I took it. What’s the big deal?”
“Are you going to teach our son to steal?”
“I’m going to teach him how to get what he wants.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
September 16, 1996
Monday morning
The less said about Motel 6 the better. It was your basic two-story corporate hotel. The room was bare and clean. There was a queen-sized bed with a mattress that was a bit lumpy and sheets that had a thread count of about thirty. The best thing I could think of to say about the place was that Norman Bates didn’t work there.
I’d slept well. Mostly because I hadn’t the night before. And there was the advantage of not having a teenager around to throw up all over the bathroom. I was dreaming that I was being crushed by some malevolent enemy, when the phone started to ring and saved me. I sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, trying to calm the pain in my shoulder. It wasn’t quite gone when I picked up. “Yeah?”
“I told you to use the card I gave you.”
“I decided to use my own card.”
“I asked for Charles Henderson. I thought you might have run off.”
“I’d like to run off.”
“You have to take me to school.”
“I have to take you to school?”
“Yeah, I’m in high school, remember?”
“How about playing hooky?”
“My mom freaked out when I said I was staying home. And they call her if I don’t show up.”
It sounded like he might have some experience with that. I asked, “Why doesn’tshedrive you to school? That way she’ll know you’re there.”
“Just come get me. Jesus Christ.”
And then he hung up.
I took a very hot shower wishing I’d told him to bring my Tylenol with him. Then I got dressed in yesterday’s clothes. The red turtleneck—now on its third day—and the blue crew neck sweater. I looked very patriotic. Didn’t matter, though. I was hoping I’d get to fly home later in the day.
I made my way back to their house pretty easily. Cass was standing in front of the house with the backpack he’d used to travel across country slung over his shoulder. He climbed into the Belvedere.
“You’ll have to direct me. I don’t know where your high school is.”
“Go straight.” Then he directed me back out to 10 Mile Road.
“So you’re a senior?” I asked.
“Yeah. What did you think? I got held back?”
“It was just a question. Are you thinking of going to college?”
“Like my mom’s going to send me to college. She already told me I have to get out as soon as I graduate.”
“Well that’s not very maternal.”
I’d already figured out that maternal wasn’t exactly Joanne’s jam.
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