- 3.
In the end, the Miller’s car never came.
The security guard gave me a ride.
It was after midnight when I got back to the
Miller’s house.
My phone still had no messages.
The lights of the house were shining bright,
<
from outside.
I didn’t question them.
If the maid hadn’t opened the door, I might
have stayed outside forever.
“Wow, what happened to you?
You look terrible.
Your clothes are all dirty.”
Ashley burst out as soon as she saw me.
Mom didn’t seem to believe it either.
“Ryan, have you lost a lot of weight?”
Why, in just five years, had I gone from a
somewhat beefy young man to someone who
barely weighed 80 pounds?
Dad’s eyes showed a hint of pity.
He immediately told the housekeeper to cook
something for me to eat.
“We were going to pick you up, but Brandon
wasn’t feeling well, so we…”
I knew.
This was their special way of making amends.
<
They could neglect me, put me down, and not
have to worry about whether I was sad.
Afterwards, they’d give me a treat to make
me forget the pain.
In the past, I would’ve been ecstatic.
But now, I didn’t care.
I was about to say something when Ashley
interrupted.
“It’s just a guilt trip.
He’s probably pretending to be pitiful so you
feel bad for him.
Then he can stay here!”
Mom huffed and turned to me with a kind and
gentle look.
“Anyway, we haven’t found your real parents,
so you can live here.
You can call me Mom, just like before.
I still think of you as my son!”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Miller.
I’m grateful that you’re taking me in!”
<
That polite form of address was more than
just words.
It had placed a chasm between the two of us,
people who had once been as close as a
person could be with their mother.
Mom couldn’t hold back.
Tears instantly welled up in her eyes.
I wasn’t the arrogant son she once knew.
I should complain.
I should rant about how they’d abandoned me
all these years.
Anything would have been better than this
pathetic and meek version of myself.
- 4.
