The Day I Stopped Holding This Family Together Chapter 11

The Day I Stopped Holding This Family Together Chapter 11: Theo on the Steps
We were three blocks from the Driskill when my phone buzzed.
Then again. Then again.
Six notifications. All from Theo.
I swiped them open in the passenger seat of Ryker’s Lucid.
*8:14: Where are the extra lightbulbs?*
*8:42: Dad’s gone. He said he was meeting you.*
*9:15: Wifi is out. Can’t do my history paper.*
*9:30: Whatever.*
*9:50: Are you coming back tonight?*
*10:03: Where are you.*
The last one was sent five minutes ago. No question mark.
“What is it,” Ryker said. His eyes were on the road.
“Theo.”
I called him. It rang three times. Click.
“Theo?”
Silence. Then breathing. Wind through a phone speaker.
“Theo, honey, where are you?”
“School library.”
“The library closed three hours ago.”
“I’m on the front steps.”
I felt my stomach drop. “Why aren’t you home.”
“Dad changed the door codes. He said he was sending me the new one. He never did. The Ring camera is on so I can see him. He’s at home. He’s sitting on the couch with Elena. They’re watching a movie. He hasn’t checked his phone.”
I sat up straight in the seat.
“Theo, listen to me. Stay exactly where you are. Don’t move. Don’t talk to anyone. I’m coming to get you.”
“Okay, Mom.”
I hung up.
Ryker had already turned the car around.
“How long has he been there,” he said.
“Since right after dinner. Three hours.”
“Cade locked him out.”
“He changed the codes.”
“And then he went home with her.”
“Yes.”
The car accelerated. Ryker did not say another word until we hit the school parking lot. The campus was dark. The only light came from the emergency pillars and the neon glow of the gym vending machines.
Theo was a small dark shape against the brick wall at the gym entrance. His hood was pulled up. His knees were against his chest.
I threw the door open before the car had fully stopped.
“Theo.”
He looked up. He didn’t stand. He just watched me cross the lawn in the emerald dress, my heels in one hand because I had kicked them off, the silk dragging through wet grass.
“You’re wearing that dress,” he said.
It wasn’t a compliment. It was the observation of a fourteen-year-old who was discovering his mother had a life.
I dropped to my knees in front of him. The dress wasn’t going to survive the night. I didn’t care.
“Why didn’t you call earlier, baby.”
“Dad said I shouldn’t bother you with house stuff. He said you were busy with your ‘new life.'”
I closed my eyes.
“Being locked out of your home isn’t house stuff, Theo. It’s a crisis.”
“I tried calling him. He didn’t pick up. I saw a picture of him on the news site. He was at the gala. He was holding hands with that lady. Elena.”
I felt sick.
“Come with me. I have a place. It’s small. It’s mine. There’s a couch.”
“Does it have a guest room?”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m buying you a bed.”
“Okay.” He stood up. His knees popped. He brushed dust off his jeans, trying to find some teenage armor. He looked past me at Ryker’s car. “Is that *him?*”
“My ride home, the night I left.”
“Dad says he’s a shark.”
“Your dad is right about one thing in his life, and that’s one of them. Get in the car.”
He looked at me for a long second.
He took my hand.
The grass was cold and damp. The walk to the car was short. Ryker had stepped out and opened the back door. He didn’t approach. He didn’t try to talk to Theo. He just held the door open and nodded.
Theo paused before climbing in. He looked at Ryker.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I sat in the front. The interior was warm, the heater already running. Ryker did not put the car in drive. He waited until Theo had his seatbelt clicked. Then he pulled out of the lot.
“Diner on Fifth is still open,” he said. “Milkshakes are mostly cake batter.”
“Can I get fries?” Theo asked.
“You can get the whole menu.”
In the rearview mirror, I watched my son almost smile.
We were halfway to the diner when a pair of high white headlights swung into the school lot behind us. A white Range Rover. I knew the wheels. I knew the silhouette.
“That’s Dad,” Theo said, pressing his forehead to the back window.
“He’s two hours late,” I said.
Ryker did not slow down.
In the side mirror, I watched my husband get out of his car, see the empty bench his son had been sitting on, and reach for his phone.
My phone buzzed in my lap.
*Cade.*
I flipped it face down on the console.
“Where are we going,” Theo asked from the back seat.
“To dinner,” Ryker said. “And then home.”
Home. He said it like it was a settled fact.
I didn’t correct him.