Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [24]
“Thanks.”
“So what about Jacob? Does he know about this yet?”
“No. I’ve been looking all over town for him. I think he got fired from his job for not showing up today.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid he’s just about exhausted all the minimum-wage jobs in Stafford by now.”
“He must have quite an interesting résumé.”
I pushed my plate away. “I just hope I can find him, before, well, before anything bad happens.”
“What do you think might happen?”
“Well, I can’t imagine how he must feel, being kicked out of his home by his own father. Just before he left, he told me that he knew his dad hated him.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I guess I’m worried that he might be depressed, you know, and possibly do something foolish.” I didn’t mention my biggest fear—that he might accidentally overdose.
“But Jacob wouldn’t harm himself, would he?”
“It’s hard to say.” I wrapped the paper napkin around my finger like a tourniquet. “He was pretty down and discouraged when he left the house yesterday.”
“Do you think he’s staying with friends for a while?”
“I don’t know. But even if he is, how long can that last when he doesn’t have a job or anything to fall back on?” I wanted to say, how long can that last if he can’t pay his so-called friends for their stupid drugs? But I didn’t.
“Maybe he’ll try to call you on your cell phone,” she offered.
“Maybe. So far he hasn’t. I just want him to know that I’ve moved out and that he can come stay with me. I want him to know he has a place. I plan to fix up the second bedroom for him. It’s pretty small, but—”
“But it’s a roof over his head.” Sherry smiled. “And I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
“If he ever figures it out…”
“Did I tell you that Matthew is home for a couple of weeks before college starts again next month? How about if I ask him to keep an eye out for Jacob while he’s here? He probably still knows a lot of the places where kids hang out these days.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Matthew may have had his troubles a few years back, but he’d never sunk so low as my son. “Sure,” I told her. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Well, at least I know why I kept thinking of you lately,” she said in a sad voice. “And I really have been praying for you, Glennis. Guess I’ll have to pray even harder now.”
I studied her. “Do you really think it makes a difference?”
She didn’t seem surprised by my question. “I know what you mean. And I can remember feeling like that too. Especially when Matthew and Mark were going through their drinking and partying era. I swear that’s the year when my hair went completely gray.” She patted her head. “Of course, I don’t have to tell the whole world about that.” She smiled. “But I can remember those sleepless nights when I felt certain I’d be called to the emergency room to identify one of my sons.”
I nodded. “I’ve had those exact same thoughts.”
“And I can remember praying the same things over and over again.” She sighed. “It was always, ‘Keep them safe, God. Just take care of them until they can take care of themselves.’”
“That’s pretty much what my prayers sound like. That and ‘Help!’ I seem to be praying, ‘Help me, help me,’ more and more these days.”
She sort of laughed. “Yes, I remember doing that too. But then I had a little breakthrough. I’m sure I’ve told you this before.”
“What?” I asked, trying to recall whatever bits of wisdom she’d passed along to me in the past.
“Oh, you know, the letting-go thing.”
I nodded but only vaguely remembered. “Yes, but maybe I need to hear it again.”
“Well, it was one of those nights when Mark was away at college and not doing too well. And then Matthew had started partying at the end of his senior year.”
“Right. I remember.”
“And I just felt as if I was at the end of my rope. And I was praying for both of them one night when I couldn’t sleep, and it suddenly occurred to me that if God had created both of my sons—you know, knit them in my womb as it says in that psalm—well, then it was like they were his sons too. And I just figured, well, if God is really