Chance of Snow

Four hours into the two-hour drive between Belleville and exit 137 the ceaseless sound of rubber reverberating against miles of rocky asphalt beat against Robb’s skull. “I think the game is on.” He tuned the radio, through the static hiss until the fluid voice announcer boomed carried him back, riding alongside his father, cheering on the Spartans together.

“I’m a Michigan fan,” Aaron said, pulling at the maize M embroidered on his blue hoodie. Every other weekend wasn’t enough time to keep his son from picking up on his mother’s nonsense.

“Did your mother buy you that?”

Aaron evened his drawstrings. “Jeff bought it for me last year when he took me to the game.”

Robbs’ knuckles turned blood red and then white around the steering wheel. “I’m glad yous get along so well.”

“Yeah, it rained, so it’s not the best time.” Aaron hunched against the window, with his left hand conveniently covering his phone while he typed.

“I don’t care if you have a good time with Jeff. I’m glad yous guys can do things together. You talking to a friend?” Robb turned the radio to a hush.

Aaron tucked his phone under his thigh and squirmed as if he had jumped into a bed filled with cracker crumbs. “Do you think we will get all that snow they are talking about?” Aaron asked, turning the broadcast up.

He must have been texting the girl. Mindy should have taken his phone when she found those pictures. Instead of demanding he deal with “his” son. Aaron wasn’t his son when he made the honor roll; he was Mindy and Jeff’s son.

“Yup, I’ve already put the plow on the truck.” As long as things weren’t going too far, how much trouble could teenagers get into? Robb glanced at his son and back to the road. “Your mom said you have some friends you are pretty close with at school.”

Aaron leaned against the window. His eyes skittered from one object to the next. “I guess so.” He slid his phone to his side, typing covertly with his right hand. He was too young for a serious relationship. God, what if he thought he was in love? One thing leads to another, and before he knows it, he’s walking down the aisle to Canon in D with a toddler crying at his ankles. Breaking his back at a job that only puts him in debt while this girl calls her mother, complaining she is married to a child because he wants to keep his Mustang. When he sells it, she takes the money and the baby. Before he knows what hit him, he’ll be dropping his son at Jeff’s house every other weekend.

“Aaron.” If he was really in love, they could make it work, and if they weren’t, he’d figure it out somewhere between I do and don’t come home. Robb cleared his throat and fiddled with the heat. “It’s snowing a bit.” He gestured out the window.

Aaron leaned forward, gazing across miles of whirly white clouds and gray, misty air. “You must be seeing things.” He relaxed kicking his feet up on the in the front window. Robb shoved his feet back to the floorboard and wiped the dash with his sleeve.

“Maybe I saw a bug or something.” He said eyeing his son as he lazily tapped on his phone. His cheeks bled into a blistering glow from his red-hot messages. Robb turned the heat off, but Aaron didn’t notice. The college fund he spend fifteen years to build would pay for the wedding, and keep them alive until they finished high school.

“Dad, are you ok?” Aaron gave a sheepish smile. “Your team made a touchdown.”

Robb cranked the radio up a half-click. Aaron was going to college. He had too much potential to waste. He could get scholarships, although he would end up at U of M, which could be overlooked. He could graduate diploma in one hand and baby in the other. “Well, good then.” He said grasping for the score.

“Are you upset, dad? Did I do somethi-?”

“Did you do something?” Robb interjected, twisting the sound button backward, and a screeching silence filled the car. Aaron ran his hand down his face, carefully contemplating.

“Is this about the party?” He asked as if he were blind treading on spring ice. Robb met the eyes of a familiar stranger.

“What party?” Foolhardy nights with huge black spots flashed in his mind.

Aaron bit his lower lip. “I thought mom might have told you, but I guess not, Jeff already grounded me though.”

“Jeff is not your father. I am. What did you do at this party?” Aaron flopped his head against the window, groaning as the conversation became painful.

“So, I have to get in trouble twice because you and mom can’t get along?” It was his default comeback, overused, but it still held enough weight to make Robb stop and consider.

The driver of the red Honda in front of them slammed on his brakes, and Robb swerved, missing a collision by inches. “Did you see that?” He cursed, throwing both hands in the air for the driver could see.

“Yeah, dad, you almost had him.” He sounded like his mother. These trips used to be fun. They would stop for Slurpees and donuts at the Seven-Eleven, using every minute of their time together. The sign for Exit 137 peeked around the bend, and the chance of making this trip count started to slip away.

“Are you being responsible?” Robb asked as sweat beaded down the back of his neck. Aaron didn’t raise his eyes from his phone.

“Sure, I did my homework yesterday.” They turned right at the stop sign, and Aaron shuffled his phone charger into the side pocket of his backpack. Maybe he was still Just a little boy who wasn’t ready for this kind of conversation. Robb saw himself sitting in that passenger seat seventeen years ago while his father tried to instill in him this same lesson, one that for him came eleven weeks too late.

“I’m proud of you for that, but are you responsible with your friends?” He had a stack of pamphlets on teenagers at one point. How did he never read a single one? Aaron’s brow furrowed, and Robb braced his ears.

“Yeah, sure.” Aaron slung the question off like a sobbing raincoat. Was that it? He hadn’t worried himself for one hundred and twenty miles for a ‘yeah sure’. They turned down Carter Street and Aaron pulled the latch before the car came to a halt in Jeff’s newly sealed driveway.

“Hey.” Robb grabbed his son’s arm. “Five out of ten teenagers have a baby before they graduate high school.” Robb’s words came out in a gasp of desperation, but Aaron looked blank like his father had spoken French.

“Three out of ten,” Aaron said, giving a wry smile. “It’s three out of ten teenagers, and I’ve heard that number goes up when you drive your mustang to the lake on Friday nights.” Aaron opened his door and popped to his feet and Robb rolled down the window, allowing the cold air to cool his blushing face.

“So, you know then?”

Aaron stuck his head through the window looking him square in the face. “Yeah, dad, I know.” He laughed.

A surge of relief should have washed over Robb’s frayed nerves and brought his heart back into a smooth rhythm, but they were more alike than different. “Well, you stay out of trouble then, and maybe next time, we can stop somewhere and pick you up a proper hoodie.”

Aaron rested his forehead on the windowless door. “Sure, as long as it’s not green and white.”Aaron jogged up the drive with a youthful skip in his step. Robb smiled, watching his son struggle to dig his key from his pocket, and then he was through the front door and back to being Jeff and Mindy’s son.