She pulled closer and saw it was a man, her son. She just knew it.
J.J. pulled over. She was careful to put her car in park. She needed to keep her head. There was no Dean to help.
No matter what she found, she’d have to deal with it.
The roadside gravel shifted under her shoes as she ran to D.J.
He was on his side.
“D.J.”
He moved when he heard her voice.
Okay, he moved. He is alive.
Just that fact flooded her with relief.
She kneeled down next to him, looking for anything broken or bleeding. Her headlights were the only light in the dead of night.
But they were enough. He was in one piece. There didn’t seem to be blood.
“D.J.”
He rolled from his side and opened his eyes. She needed to figure out what to do next.How do I fix this? We need to get to the emergency room? The police?
“Mom, hey, what are you doing here?”
“You called me, remember? You crashed your truck.”
“What, no, me and the boys were out.” He had a smile on his face.
She was cold inside when he smiled. It was clear now. Crystal clear in the dark of night.
D.J. had gotten behind the wheel drunk as a skunk. He’d driven his truck into the ditch. Drunk. Her mind played every possible horrible consequence.
Her fear for his safety shifted into fear of a million other scenarios.
“Did you crash into anything else? Do you know?”
“Crash? No, no, just tired, ma.”
“Get up.” She said it in her field-general mad-as-hell voice.
Because her terror had turned to anger. She was mad now. Mad and in a low-grade panic. She stood up, put her hand out, and helped him to his feet. He staggered, and she tried to steady him.
“Get in my car, now, here, come on.”
She tucked herself under his arm and got him to the car. He opted for the back seat and laid down. His legs were hanging out of the door when she tried to close it.
“Bend. BEND.”
He did as she said, and she was able to get his door closed.
She knew what the first call had to be.
“Patrick. Yeah, it’s J.J. I got a mess, and I don’t know exactly what to do first.”
“Always call a lawyer first, you know that.”
