Home by Midnight

Hello everyone! I’m new to Reedsy; this is my first time participating in the writing challenge. I hope you enjoy my very short story. :)

Maggie looked out the window for the sixth time in half that many minutes. In one hand she clutched a rosary tightly, in the other, a kitchen sponge, cold but still covered in suds from her half-hearted attempt to clean. She glanced at the clock. 11:50 p.m. Ron’s curfew was midnight. 

She clutched the rosary tighter. God, watch over him. Maggie glanced at her husband Lucas, collapsed on the couch where he had prayed the rosary and then read aloud until sleep overcame him. She considered voicing her concern over their teenaged son, but she knew he would tell her to stop worrying and go to bed, then he would follow his own suggestion. 

11:51. She gave the window a final glance, trying to stare past her troubled expression into the shadowed outdoors, then pulled away. She stumbled with weariness that only a worried mother could exhibit. 

God, protect our baby, she prayed. To call Ron a “baby” would be an understatement, especially as he dwarfed her and almost towered over his father. At eighteen and a half years old, he considered himself a full-grown man, with all the privileges and rights that came with it, even though he only accepted a few of the responsibilities that came with “being a man.”

She began to wipe off the counter with a long stroke. We taught him as best we could. She wiped in the opposite direction, but distracted thoughts interspersed her cleaning. He had gone out with friends before, but this was the first night with a later curfew - 12 a.m. Maggie wondered if Ron knew how much he worried her. He had stopped attending church regularly with them once he learned to drive, and the number of “girlfriends” he had had in the time since then concerned her. She even occasionally smelled the stench of cigarettes lingering around him after one of his “boys’ nights.” What if he decided to disobey his parents, choosing to stay out later and not tell her? Perhaps the theater’s food gave him food poisoning and he was lying on a floor in pain right now. What if he was injured? What if…? Maybe…? Perhaps he…? The terrible questions raced through her head, each worse than the last.

11:53. Maggie threw the sponge into the sink with a solid thwack. Glancing through the window pane again, she wandered over to the cranky radio and turned it on. “...yeah Aaron, the traffic here on Elmer Street is pretty heavy due to a drunk-driver accident at the intersection. No fatalities have been reported yet, but it’s still new enough…” Maggie gasped and slapped the radio off again. Elmer Street. That’s where Ron and his friends saw the movie. 

She ran to her phone, hands shaking so hard she couldn’t type her passcode correctly. She pressed her fingerprint to the sensor.

11:54. Time stood still as her phone rang once. No answer. “Please,” Maggie whispered, but if she were asking her son or praying to God she didn’t know. Both, perhaps.

11:55. Headlights signaled the entrance of a small car onto the narrow street, and her pulse quickened. But it was just the neighbors. The phone rang twice, thrice, four times. Part way through the fifth, someone answered the phone. 

The sound of young men laughing echoed in the background as another man spoke into the receiver. “I promise we left in enough time to get home before midnight.” Maggie sighed in relief at her son’s irritated voice. Thank you, Lord.

“You talking to your mom?” A boy asked with disbelief. 

Ron’s voice moved away from the phone. “Yes, and I can’t hear her. Shut up.” He moved back. “Sorry, Mom. I promise I have a real reason this time-”

Maggie cleared her throat. “It’s not that. I heard there was an accident.”

He chuckled, releasing pent-up stress, and his voice faded slightly as he turned to his friends. “We’re not in trouble. She’s asking about the accident.”

11:57. 

“Ron,” Maggie cut in. “Did you see it? Were you involved? Are you okay?” She began pacing. 

Ron moved the phone away from his ear as she raised her voice. “Yes, and no, and yes! It’s pretty crazy actually. We left the theater almost right after the movie ended, and Noah wanted to ask the cute girl at the register for her number-”

Noah cut in. “Dude! Are you really telling her about that?!”

“-But chickened out and got another Coke instead but forgot a straw. So guess what idiot tried to drink from their cup while driving and without a straw?” 

While Ron explained, Maggie collapsed on the couch, making Lucas stir awake. “Relax, Maggs, he’ll be home soon, I’m sure. Go to bed,” he mumbled, half asleep.

Maggie ignored him and addressed her son. “Ron, spit it out. You’re making it sound like you got in an accident.”

Lucas started, wide awake now. “Ron’s hurt?!” Maggie waved him off.

“He’s fine,” she snapped, then softened her voice. “Ok, go on.” She placed the phone on speaker. 

“Hey Ron.”

“Oh, hi Dad. So, let me be clear. We were not in any accident at all. Noah spilled his drink and so we pulled over. And right as we did, this dumba-uh- driver, apparently drunk, in this huge truck whizzes by right where we just were. Hit the street light so hard it broke and fell across the road. If we had been there, ‘n hadn’t pulled over…” Ron trailed off, giving a breathy, relieved chuckle. “But we did, so…”

“Praise God that you’re safe!” Maggie clutched Lucas’s hand. 

“Yeah, praise God.” Whether or not Ron meant it, she didn’t know. But Maggie and Lucas meant it from the bottom of their hearts. “Anyway we took a detour so we’ll be home in five, ten minutes.”

“All right. Thanks, Ron. Love you.”

There was a small hesitation. “Love you too, Mom.” He hung up amid his friends’ teasing.

12:00 a.m. 

Maybe Ron wouldn’t be home by his curfew, but at least he was safe. 

“Maggie, now that you know he’s safe, you can stop worrying and go to bed.” Lucas stood up, stretched, and went to follow his own recommendation.