Page 146 of Call You Mine
“Officer,” my uncle interjects, stern yet polite. “Is there a point to all these questions about my sister’s medical history? What does this all have to do with my nephew?”
The officers look at one another before the older one finally looks at my mom and says, “Your son was dealing prescription drugs.”
All the air is sucked out of the room. I feel my vision go blurry, my heart beats so loud in my ears that I barely hear the officer explain how Auggie was involved in a drug deal gone badly. He had promised a customer a different amount than he provided, and it got him shot.
He was stealing my mom’s pills.
“There’s no way,” I interject, but realization hits me a moment too late. The change in doctors, the questions about her health insurance, the new job my uncle mentioned a few months ago...
“We’re sorry to hear about your son’s injuries, Mrs. Montgomery,” the officer says, bringing me back to the moment. She pulls a card from her pocket, handing it to my mom who takes it, holding it in both of her hands. “We can’t go into much detail about his potential charges, but we will be in touch.”
I barely register the officer’s words, my mom’s sobs, my uncle’s questions, and my brothers’ denial.
This is all my fault.
I should’ve known something was going on—I should’ve followed my gut.
If I did, I could’ve stopped this.
“Sonny,” my uncle says, his phone to his ear.
I didn’t even realize he picked it up—didn’t even hear it ringing. I look around the room, watching the door to Auggie’s hospital room close behind the officers, leaving just my family in the room.
“Jack’s on the phone,” my uncle says, holding the phone to me. “Ava’s in labor. Her water broke this morning.”
What?
There’s no way I heard him right.
Ava can’t be in labor. Not now. Not when Auggie’sunconscious and waking up to be arrested. Not when I’mhere, and she’sthere.
She cannotbe in labor.
“Anderson,” my mom says, her face coming into view. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion and a thousand miles a minute at the same time. She grabs my hand in both of hers. “You need to go.”
I shake my head, not because I’m disagreeing, but because I’m finding it hard to believe that she’s telling me to go. She’s always needed my help, always expected it without even asking. And now, she’s refusing it.
“You heard her,” my brother, Alex, says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We got Auggie.”
“He’s right,” Archie adds. “We’ll take care of things here.”
I look at Auggie, at the twins, feeling like I’m being pulled in so many directions. I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the strands until my scalp burns.
“Anderson,” my mom says, her palm finding my cheek. “We’ve needed you all your life.” Her voice comes out clearer, and that’s when I realize I have tears running down my cheeks—so many emotions flying through me. “And we always will,” she adds. “But not like this. Not anymore.” There are tears in her eyes, too, and it makes mine fall harder. “This was not your fault. It’s mine. Auggie is my son, just like Alex and Archie. Just likeyou.” She offers a sad smile, letting her hand drop to her side. “It ismyjob to take care of you all, not the other way around. And I’m sorry it took me this long to realize how poor of a job I’ve been doing.”
“No, Mom. I?—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she cuts me off, shaking her head. “Not now, not ever.”
Then I realize, I’m not being pulled.
I’m the one stretching myself to the point of snapping.
I wrap my arms around my mom, hugging her tightly,giving myself a second to feel her embrace, one I didn’t realize how much I missed.
Then realization hits me like a punch in the face.
Ava is in labor, and I’m not there.
