Page 101 of Strum Me

Pulling her into my arms, I hold her as she erupts into sobs. Her body shaking against me, every bone, every muscle, vibrating with her despair. I banish the hate rising up in me to deal with later as I try to comfort her as much as possible.

“He’s…he’s got no chance, angel. He’s just grasping at straws,” I say, squeezing her tight, trying to protect her in the circle of my arms.

“My lawyer said…they said…he cited Ben’s broken arm, and then taking him on this tour…and then losing him at the concert and then leaving the next day without him to Northville. They say that’s just in the last few months, and it’s all documented,” she says through her tears, her voice breaking as she relates back the list.

“None of that is your fault! And none of it proves you’re a bad mother or neglect him!”

“His arm is broken in three places, Brad!”

“I know, angel, and you know what? I broke my legs twice before I was ten. No one called my parents bad parents. Kids have accidents! And this tour? What’s so bad about that? Kids go on vacation all the time. You’ve seen us, we enjoy a drink now and then, but we’re not drug-addled fiends. And he wasn’t lost. We would’ve found him. He was right there. Maybe if Silas hadn’t taken him away. And as for Northville, we were barely gone ten hours.”

“But…” Her voice cracks before she can say anything more.

“He’s got nothing, angel.”

“He does. He’ll find something. You don’t know him.” She pulls away from me, her eyes darting back and forth as she if she’s trying to follow the thoughts flooding her brain. ”You don’t know me.”

She sinks onto the bed, her head falling into her hands.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m not perfect, Brad. Don’t make me out to be.”

“I’m not. But you’re not a bad mother. You’re a wonderful mother and you’ve got a shitload of people who are going to swear to that if it comes to it.”

“But…I’ve made mistakes…like you said, I fucked up.”

“We’re over that now. It’s over.”

“No, Brad. I mean…I fucked up big.”

Her hands shaking on the bed cover gives away just how scared she is. She’s hiding something. Or, trying to tell me something. I go and sit down next to her.

“What is it, what happened?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…it was an accident.”

“You need to tell me, what are you talking about?”

“They… they’ve taken him away before.”

I try to hide my shock by rubbing my hand over her shoulder, letting her know it’s safe to share. “What do you mean?”

“I…I forgot to pick him up once…from daycare.”

“Okay.”

“I…you don’t understand, after I had him, things were hard for me. I was a single mother, and my mom wasn’t really around much. I was all alone.”

She wrings her hands and I look at them. They’re almost raw from being rubbed.

“I… I really struggled for a long time, Brad. I tried, I really did. But I…it was just so hard.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I stopped off at the bar one night after work and…and I wouldn’t leave. They…they tried to get me to leave, but I didn’t want to go home. I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to see me that way.”

“What way, babe?”