Fear

Today was LM's last day with his dad. We had spoken briefly about the arrangements to get him back home but nothing had been confirmed. I called J this morning to verify that I was picking up LM after work. J was terse with me. Short, curt, blunt. He wasn't much like himself. He thought we had agreed to plans and I was picking up LM after work. I said that was what I understood, too, but reminded him that sometimes LM doesn't tell anyone involved what plan has been decided upon. He agreed and warmed slightly. I told him I had found his high school diploma amongst my hope chest items while packing and would drop it off. He didn't seem to care.

I called LM on my way to work. He seemed fine. Said he had said goodbye to his dad the night before. He seemed to think everything had gone well. He was quiet and I couldn't read him well. I told him I'd pick him up around 6, perhaps a few minutes before. He said fine and that was that.

Around noon I tried to call LM, just to see how his day was going, but he didn't answer. I thought it odd, since the boy has had his new cell phone glued to his hip since the moment he got it. I tried again a couple hours later. Voicemail.

I didn't really feel the panic take hold of my throat, I just know that all of a sudden it was there. Fear. What if his dad did something irrational? What if J just took LM and ran? What if he really wasn't as okay with this whole move as he let on? I know it's dramatic and irrational, but all I could think was all those times I've heard a wife or a mother say during a TV interview, "I never would have suspected he was capable of..."

I couldn't leave work and I didn't want to call J. If I was wrong and everything was okay, I would be interrupting his day once again to remind him of how we were leaving. I kept checking my voicemail, waiting for LM to call me back.

At five, while the girls at work begged me to go ask a cute police officer in the fitness center if he was single (for their sake, not mine) I picked up my phone one last time to see no messages, no missed calls. It was then I felt as if I couldn't breathe. Maybe it's just too much stress at one time. Maybe it's just too many newscasts viewed. Maybe it's just that things seemed to be going well. But I panicked.

I must have looked scared because one of the women at work asked if I was okay, I said, "No, I can't get ahold of LM." She knew it was his last day with his dad and she read my panic well. I grabbed my pocketbook and rushed out the door. I prayed the whole 7 miles to J's house. I pulled in and ran up the walk and heard LM say, "Hi, Mom" as I approached the door.

I don't know how I kept the tears back. I don't know how I kept it together. I didn't want him to know how I scared I was. I didn't want him to know what my mind had even thought for a moment might be true. I didn't want him to taste fear like that.