Page 32 of The Me I Left Behind

“Wait,” Julia said. “What time is Max coming?”

Maggie glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “I don’t think he could get here this early, but I still need to get her out of there.”

“Call her.”

Why didn’t I think of that?“Dammit. Of course.” She snatched up her phone again and hit Carol’s name on her call list and waited. “Dammit. Voice mail.” She clicked off the phone and faced Julia. “May I borrow your SUV? I don’t like asking, but….”

“I’m not so sure that is a good idea….”

Her brain spun. She had to get over there. “Then I’ll call a cab.”

“Maggie, let them be.”

She swiveled back and glared. “Oh, hell no, Julia. Carol just went into the house with that boy, doing who knows what right now.”

“Geez, Maggie. Let them do what kids do. Would you have wanted to have been interrupted by your mother at seventeen when you were with your boyfriend? They probably just want to make out and play around a little. Let them explore.”

Good Lord, Mary Margaret Brennan, are you having sex with that boy?

A sudden flashback of her past—when she was seventeen and dating, and admittedly, already promiscuous—sped through her head. Her mother would have had a fucking heyday had she caught her in bed with a boy.

Yet, that didn’t stop me from doing it.

She glared at Julia. “I realize they are going to do what they are going to do, but… If Max comes home and finds them fucking, he will absolutely kill that young man.” She glanced at her watch. Eight-twenty. “But there is time if I move fast. Even if he took the first flight out, he couldn’t get here by now.”

Julia reached for her keys on the nightstand and tossed them her way. “I’ll stay with the littles, so keep in touch. Let me know what is going on. But get in and out of that house—Carol too—as soon as fucking possible. Don’t linger. You got that? Get our girl home, and that boy to wherever he needs to go,and you,back here safely.”

She madethe thirty-minute drive in twenty.

Not fast enough, she was sure. A teenage boy could probably do it twice in twenty minutes. Horny little motherfuckers.

Shit. And Carol. What the hell are you fucking thinking?

Not thinking. That’s the fun of it. Right?

Approaching the house, she could see a dim light upstairs in Carol’s room, facing the street. Dammit. Rushing to the front door, key in hand, she unlocked and opened it, the door swinging wide and inward. The alarm beeped softly once in warning, and she quickly typed in her code and re-set the alarm—just in case.

Bounding up the stairs, she shouted. “Carol! Goddamn it! Get dressed. Get out of the house now!”

She rushed across the second-floor landing to Carol’s room and pushed the door. Locked.

“Carol!” She beat on the door.

“Mom! What?”

“Open up, Carol. Come to the fucking door now. Get dressed.”

She heard shuffling and footsteps and mumbling behind the door. Finally, Carol unlocked and cracked it open a little. Her daughter appeared to be wearing Tyler’s T-shirt. “Mom, what are you doing? This is so embarrassing.”

“Saving your ass.” She pushed the door open and caught a glimpse of Tyler’s skinny behind as he pulled up his jeans. She noted the messy bed with tangled blankets and sheets. Quickly, she glanced away and glared at Carol. “Good fucking God, I hope you had a condom.”

“Mom!”

“Listen to me. You need to get dressed and get him out of here. Your dad could be home any minute and if he finds you in this bedroom, half dressed, and with a boy in here…” She looked at Tyler again. “Well, we don’t want to find out, but you can guaran-damn-tee that your boyfriend is going to get hurt.”

“But M—”

The bedroom door slammed against the wall. “You sure as hell got that right. What the fuck is going on here?”

---