Moving In

“What are you doing here?”  I asked rubbing the sleep from my eyes.  I checked the clock on the wall and saw it was only midnight, but why was my mother knocking on my front door?  She was an early riser so usually was in bed by 9:30 PM.  If ten o’clock came, she usually started to lose it. 

“I came to see you, of course.  Why won’t you open the door and let me in?”  She put her palm on the front door as if she was readying herself to shove it open. 

I looked over my mother’s shoulder to make sure there wasn’t someone behind her who I was also about to let into the house.  She started talking excitedly and nonstop as she stepped in.  I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. 

“Let’s start on your bedroom and then we’ll just move down the hallway.”  I blinked a few times and realized my mother was still standing in front of me.  A few minutes later, I found her in my room, making my bed. 

“Mom, what are you doing here?  What is going on?  Is everything ok?”  I felt my heart start racing and my face started to flush.  Something has happened and she didn’t want to me about it.  She was a master at avoiding confrontations and I could tell by her fidgeting. 

“Your father has left.  He’s not coming back.  I’m moving in with you.” 

My worst nightmare was finally becoming a reality. 


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