I Flew Across the Country to See My Son – He Looked at His Watch and Said, ‘You Are 15 Minutes Early, Just Wait Outside!’

I was not unexpected.

I was simply less important than whatever was happening inside.

I picked up my phone, pulled up his contact, then locked the screen.

I got up, took my suitcase, and walked down the driveway.

No one stopped me.

I didn’t turn my phone on that night.

At the corner, I called a cab.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Anywhere cheap,” I said.

He took me to a motel ten minutes away.

I sat there in my blue dress, the gift bag on the chair, feeling more tired than I had in years.

I didn’t turn my phone on that night.

Mom, where are you?

Not when I washed my face.

Not when I lay down without changing.

Not when I woke up at three in the morning, my heart pounding.

I turned it on the next morning.

Twenty-seven missed calls.

A pile of texts.

I stared at them for a long time.

Mom, where are you?

Please answer.

Mom, please.

Then one came through that made my chest tighten.

Mom, please answer. It was for you.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then another.

I read the texts again.