Page 43 of Summer of the Boy

With all the upheaval in my life right now, really all our lives because of my upheaval, having my dad keep up the tradition, it’s a godsend.

Back when we were little, my mom made the mistake of telling my dad to call us to dinner. He thought he’d be funny and really call it out. Hence the tradition.

Let’s face it, any godsend is a welcome godsend right now no matter how it comes about. Because to say I’m nervous about seeing the rest of my family would be akin to calling Jaws a goldfish. That much of an understatement.

I’m the last to make it to the table.

As I slip into my seat, my sister says, “Glad you’re home.” That’s the most anyone says about the situation. The rest of dinner they spend talking about fun, happy, exciting and irritating things happening in all their lives. Just like we would have before my legal fiasco.

My motherdidn’teven make my favorite dinner to lift my spirits or any crap like that. She made my dad’s favorite, sauerbraten and spätzle, for winning his case.

I have nothing to bring to the table. My heart’s not in it and really, what would I add? The only things going on in my life are Ridley and the arrest. Though, it’s fun to take myself away from my troubles for even a short while.

***

When I can fall asleep, it’s fitful. Most of the night I can’t shut my brain off enough to sleep. On about my elevntyith flop from one side to the other, my phone chirps with a text. I reach over to my nightstand to grab it.

Amanda.

Why would Amanda be texting me at… I look at the time on the phone, two-thirty in the morning? Immediately I swipe to read.

Hey Leif. It’s Ridley. Amanda and I switched phones. I miss you. Please text back.

Rid? We aren’t supposed to have contact.

Please. Please, I’m going crazy without you. No one will know I’m contacting you. Amanda is contacting you. See?

Babe. I miss you so damn much too. Only a couple of days, it feels like years.

Meet Amanda at the back gate tomorrow. By the automaton. At one.

I close my eyes and huff out a breath, then open them again. He’s arranging for us to see each other. If we get caught, I’ll be in so much trouble. But I need to hold him. Decision made, I type:I’ll be there babe. I love you.

I love you too.He texts back.Night.

Night, babe.

I feel lighter now than I have since before the arrest. Finally I’m able to close my eyes, knowing that I’ll be having sweet, sweet dreams about seeing Ridley tomorrow.

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