TITLE: Do you really want me?
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith.
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, only borrow, them a bit.
SPOILER: up to and including season five. My story "All that glitters is not gold."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for all the kind reviews ( they are all very inspiring! Please keep them coming. Thanks to Joey, for correcting this and teaching me English.
CHAPTER FIVE
It's been moths now, since I last saw him. On my request, Fred took us all away on a vacation. It was nice, but it didn't do what I had hoped it would. It didn't ease the pain from losing Bosco.
I don't even think he even knew I was gone. Christmas came and went - not a word from Bos. I know now that I've succeeded. I have managed to drive him away for good. He doesn't care anymore. It's hard, but that was what I wanted, so I can't really complain. I know I have to start dealing with the truth. I have to go on with my life. I know he's alright - both Emily and Sasha keep telling me so. So, I know it's safe to let go. He's fine without me. And me? Yeah, well. I'll survive. What else is there to do? I know I have to start to build a life without him. It's not going to be easy, but there's nothing else I can do.
I'm slowly getting better. I can stand now - even walk a few feet on my own, although I need a cane to lean on. It feels good, because the feeling of total helplessness is gone, and I feel like I'm starting to take control of my life again.
Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. I sigh lightly, and grab hold of the coffee table to get up from the couch. I know I have to get the door myself, because there's no one else at home. I stand up slowly and grab my cane, which stands beside the couch, and slowly make my way to the door and pull it open.
Sasha stands outside in her uniform, and smiles at me as she says, "Hi."
"Hi," I answer, and open the door wider for her to come in, before turning around and slowly walking back to the couch.
Sasha follows me and sits down beside me. Then she starts to do small talk - as she always does when she come to visit. She asks how I'm doing, congratulates me to my excellent progress, and talks about work and stuff like that. There's something different about her today, though. She almost seems nervous. She's shifting continuously on the couch, and it feels like she's trying to avoid my gaze. I wonder what's up, because something is up - I'm sure about that now. Suddenly it hits me that she hasn't brought up Bosco yet. She usually does eventually, in a casual way - like she doesn't plan to, and I always pretend not to care about whether she does or not - but I do. Actually, that's the only reason to that I'm listening to her rambling in the first place. I have a feeling she's aware of that, but she never makes anything of it, and I'm grateful for it. But today she doesn't seem to be able to get to the point. I decide to offer her some help.
"So, you say work is quiet. I guess that means Bosco hasn't managed to drive you insane yet," I say lightly.
She fidgets a bit, and put in a lot of effort to avoid my gaze. Then she takes a deep breath before answering, "Well, one of the reasons to that it's been so quiet and peaceful is because he hasn't been around this week."
I can feel my heart skip a beat. Now what? What does she mean with 'hasn't been around this week?' It's Friday today for crying out loud! Does she really mean he hasn't been at work for five days? Why wouldn't he be at work? He loves work. He never misses it. I'm starting to get afraid. Has something happened to him? Is that why Monroe acts so strange?
I swallow hard and manage to compose myself enough to ask, "So what has happened? Has he got himself suspended again, or has God finally heard my prayers and made him transfer to another precinct?"
I'm relived to hear that my voice sounds just as cool and uncaring as I want it to. I have to watch myself here. I can't risk blowing my cover for something that could very well be nothing. I'm probably just overreacting. That's what I always do when it comes to Bosco, both he and Fred used to tell me so.
She looks seriously at me, "No, there's nothing like that, he called in sick."
I raise my eyebrows with - what I hope is - a nonchalant look on my face, but my heart is beating like a subway train, as I say, "Bosco? Did Bosco call in sick?"
"Yeah, he did, but he's probably just trying to avoid having to be out in this cold," she replies halfheartedly, and smiles faintly.
I want to scream that she's wrong, that Bosco would never do such a thing, but I have a feeling she already know that - and besides, I'm not even supposed to care.
"Yeah, probably," I answer and force a smile on my face.
Monroe twists her hands nervously and stands up, before saying, "Yeah, well I'll better go. I have to get back to work. Take care, Faith, see you later."
I nod. "Yeah, later - stay safe." She nods back and leaves.
I'm sitting on the couch, almost out of my mind out of worry for him. Why did he call in sick? He never gets sick. He's probably just trying to avoid something he doesn't want to do -just as Monroe said - but then again, Bosco would never do such thing. At least not the Bosco I knew, but who knows? I haven't seen him in a very long time - maybe he has changed. So I'm sitting here and staring out in the space, and my mind keeps going around in circles. I know I shouldn't worry, but I can't help it. Suddenly there's a key in the lock, and Emily walks through the door with Charlie in tie.
I look up, startled, because I was so lost in my thoughts, I forgot about the time. I quickly try to look as 'normal' as possible, but it's too late. I can tell by the frown on Emily's face that she has already seen there's something wrong.
"Mom, you OK?" she asks worriedly.
I swallow hard, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."
Her frown deepens, "What have you done today? You didn't over do it, did you?" she says reproachfully.
I shake my head, "No, honey, not at all. I've been sitting here on the couch all day. Sasha came by and kept me company for a while," I answer, and try to sound cheerful.
Emily looks inquiringly at me, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. "So, did she have anything interesting to tell you?" she asks innocently, but I can hear the challenge in her voice.
Damn it! Why does she have to be able to see right through me? I just shake my head, because I really don't trust my voice at this point. Emily continues to look intensely at me before saying, "Charlie, why don't you go and start with your homework?"
He looks up from the fridge, and replies in a mocking voice, "Only if I can eat my snack in my room."
Emily sighs and rolls her eyes. "OK, just go on!"
Charlie turns around, and grins at me, before sticking out his tongue at his sister. I sigh." Charlie! Be nice to your sister!"
He grins again and says, "OK, Mom, " before running off to his room.
Emily watches him leave, and then she turns to me and asks, "What did Sasha tell you to upset you so much? Is something wrong with Bosco?"
I open my mouth to respond, but in that moment Fred walks through the door - of course. "Hi, baby, how are you today?" he asks kindly and kisses me.
Before I get a chance to answer, Emily does it for me. "Mom doesn't feel well today. I was just about to help her to bed. Right, Mom?" she says, holding my gaze.
I can't express how much I love her in this moment. She knows I need to be saved. She knows there's no way I can sit through a dinner with Fred today without ruining everything, and she bails me out. I'm so grateful, I could cry. I force a faint smile on my face, before answering, "Yeah, that's right. I don't feel so good. I think I'm coming down with the flu or something."
Fred looks worriedly at me, "You OK? You don't need a doctor, or anything?"
I manage to give him another faint smile, "No, that's OK. I just need to get some rest."
He nods sympathetically, "You just go and lie down. Emily and I can handle things."
"I know you can," I answer in a grateful voice, and try to get hold of my emotions. Fred's kindness almost gets too much for me to handle, and I can feel myself being very close to tears. Emily senses it, and quickly walks up and gently takes my arm, "Come on, Mom. I'll help you."
She walks with me to the bedroom and waits until I've laid down. Then she says, "Try to get some rest. I'll come back after dinner - when they're watching TV - and then we'll talk, OK?"
I smile gratefully, "Thanks."
She smiles back, "It's no big deal, and don't worry. I'm sure we can sort out what ever it is."
She leaves, and I close my eyes and wonder when I allowed my daughter to become my mother.
***********
"Mom, you awake?" Emily whispers, and sits down on the edge of my bed.
I open my eyes, "Yeah," I whisper back.
She smiles kindly at me, and asks, "Now, tell me, what's wrong? What did Sasha say?"
"She said Bosco hasn't been around the whole week - that he called in sick," I reply, and I can hear the fear in my voice. I really am pathetic to get so upset about something like this. I obviously need to get a life.
Emily looks pensively at me for a few moments, and then she says hesitantly, "Yeah, that's probably right. I haven't seen him outside our school the whole week."
I look at her, stunned. "Does he usually stand outside your school?"
She smiles, "Yeah, he and Sasha park their squad car there almost every afternoon. I guess he wants to check on us."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask quietly.
She shrugs, "I don't know. I guess I thought it would make it harder for you to pretend that you don't care about him anymore. You know, harder for you to hide it to Dad."
I close my eyes. I love her for being so smart and caring, and hate myself for being so pathetic, that she has to. I'm supposed to look out for her, not the other way around.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, "for making you keep secrets from your father."
She takes my hand and squeezes it gently. "Don't worry about it. It's OK. He really doesn't need to know everything. Everybody has a right to some privacy - even you," she says with a smile.
I smile back, gratefully, "Thanks."
She nods, "You're welcome. So what do you think it's wrong with him? He doesn't usually get sick, does he?"
I swallow hard, and shake my head.
"So that's why you're so worried, right?" she asks gently.
I nod again, not really sure I would be able to speak without crying. Hearing Emily voice my own thoughts make them feel more real, and my worry increases with every passing moment. All sorts of images of him, lying alone in misery, without being able to call for help, run through my head.
Emily bites down her bottom lip, and says hesitantly, "Do you think he could have had another nervous breakdown? He's looked kind of distressed lately."
"He has?" I can feel a knot forming in my stomach. I haven't even considering that option, because everybody keeps telling me he seems fine.
Emily nods. "Yeah, and since he can't come to you for help - like he did the last time, he might don't know what to do. I mean, I hardly think Sasha would hold him if he started to cry - like you did. So maybe he prefers to be alone - just in case."
I stare at her in chock. "You saw that?"
She smiles again. "Yeah, I did, but don't worry. I think it's cool that you two care that much about each other - at least now, when I'm not a stupid kid anymore. I'm sorry about how I acted towards both of you before."
It's my turn to squeeze her hand, "It's OK. It was a rough time for all of us."
"So what do you think? Could that be it?" she asks again.
"I don't know, Em. I have no idea what's wrong, and that's what scares me the most. It's not like I can ask anybody either," I answer, and I can her the agony in my voice.
"There has to be a way to find out, without anyone knowing you were the one who wanted to know," she says thoughtfully.
Then suddenly her face is lit up by a big smile, "Now I know! I can call him on his cell! He gave me the number, remember?"
I look skeptically at her, "And say what?"
"I can ask him to do me a favor or something."
"What kind of favor?"
She smiles mischievously, "I think I have an idea. So what do you say, wanna try?"
I nod. It's not like I have much of a choice. I need to know what's wrong, and this is my only way to do that.
"OK, you ready?" Emily asks, and takes her cell phone out of her pocket.
I nod once more, and watch how she hits speed dial #6. We wait in silence for him to pick up. It seems like an eternity to me, but then Emily smiles at me, and says into the phone, "Hi, Bosco. It's Emily."
"No, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong. How about you? You sound tired."
I feel my stomach drop, time to throw the hope that nothing is wrong, in the trash. I can see Emily's eyebrows furrow, and then she asks, "You sure? You don't sound so good."
"Oh, I'm sorry, it doesn't sound like fun," her voice is filled with sympathy.
"No, it was nothing. I just wanted to ask you a favor, but if you don't feel well."
"No, it's OK. It was no big deal, really."
"No, I'm not in trouble, I promise," she says and sounds offended, but at the same time she smiles at me and roll her eyes. I have to smile back, although it kind of scares me how good of an actor she is.
"I just needed a lift that's all. I'm going to a party, and it's kind of far away, and I don't want to tell Dad, because he isn't gonna like it." I stare worriedly at her. What is she up to? This part of the conversation I don't really need to hear.
She notices my horrified look, and winks at me. I realize she just making it up, and for a moment I lose focus and want to strangle her for scaring me like that. I don't want her to be this good at these kinds of games.
"No, it's nothing illegal or bad, I promise! But you know how Dad is, with all his Jesus stuff, and things like that."
"Yeah, I know he cares about me, and that I should be happy to have such a great father, but."
"Yeah, I know I should obey his wishes, but I just want to have some fun," she whines and smiles at me again.
"OK, I'll stay at home. I promise," her voice sounds grumpy now.
"Yeah, yeah, I swear!" she says angrily, but her eyes is twinkling with amusement.
"You OK?" her voice and face are suddenly filled with worry, and I can feel my chest tighten with worry.
"You sure?"
"OK, I swear, I mean it Bosco. I really do. I gonna stay at home like a good girl. I'm sorry to bother you. You just try to get better now, OK?" she replies regretfully.
"On Monday? Are you sure? OK, see you Monday then," she says softly.
"OK. You too, bye Bosco."
She pushes end, and looks up at me. "Boy, he's almost as bossy as you!"
I can't help but smile. I like that he's bossy to Emily - after all - she fooled him into believe that she was up to something. Not to mention, how happy and proud I am about the fact that he wants to take that kind of responsibility for my kids. Then I remember the real reason to this performance, and I feel the worry coming back with full force as I ask, "So?"
She looks worriedly at me, bites down her bottom lip, and says, "He didn't sound good at all. He said he had the stomach flu. He'd been throwing up all week."
"The whole week?" I reply with a mix of fear and disbelief," has he really been throwing up all week?"
She nods her head. "That's what he said. He seemed to be in a lot of pain too. It kind of hit him when we were talking, he had to take deep breaths."
I close my eyes. Oh God, what's wrong with him? It can't just be the stomach flu. It doesn't last for a week! I feel Emily's hand squeeze mine, and open my eyes again.
She looks kindly at me, "Try not to worry, OK? He said he was feeling better, and that he was going in to work on Monday. He said he would drop by our school and talk to me, so then I can tell you if he's OK."
I sigh, not worry, well that's easier said then done. "OK, I'll try - and, Emily, thanks a lot for helping me find out."
She smiles and winks at me, "You're welcome. It's no big deal, actually it was kind of fun."
"Well, Emily, I can't say I appreciate how good you are at this lying stuff."
"Life works that way, Mom. Sometimes you have to be a good liar in order to survive. You of all people should know that," her voice is hash.
I close my eyes. She got me there.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean it," she whispers regretfully.
"Well, it was true," I answer tiredly.
"Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it. I'm really sorry."
"It's OK, Em, don't think about it. Thanks again for helping me."
She smiles fondly at me, "like I said, no big deal. Try to get some sleep now, OK?"
"OK," I reply and smile back at her.
She stands up and leaves the room. When I'm alone I'm starting to worry about Bosco again. It sounded pretty serious to me. I wish I could talk to him myself - or go and check on him, but that's impossible. I just have to wait until Monday and see how things turn out. Now I have to compose myself, and find a way to get through this weekend without Fred getting suspicious. Maybe I can continue to pretend to be sick. I close my eyes and wish I hadn't asked Bos to go away. I don't seem to be able to let go anyway, but this is the only way for me to save my marriage and sanity. There's no other way. I'm doomed to live in hell for the rest of my life. I fall a sleep thinking about Bosco, begging for him to be OK.
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith.
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, only borrow, them a bit.
SPOILER: up to and including season five. My story "All that glitters is not gold."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for all the kind reviews ( they are all very inspiring! Please keep them coming. Thanks to Joey, for correcting this and teaching me English.
CHAPTER FIVE
It's been moths now, since I last saw him. On my request, Fred took us all away on a vacation. It was nice, but it didn't do what I had hoped it would. It didn't ease the pain from losing Bosco.
I don't even think he even knew I was gone. Christmas came and went - not a word from Bos. I know now that I've succeeded. I have managed to drive him away for good. He doesn't care anymore. It's hard, but that was what I wanted, so I can't really complain. I know I have to start dealing with the truth. I have to go on with my life. I know he's alright - both Emily and Sasha keep telling me so. So, I know it's safe to let go. He's fine without me. And me? Yeah, well. I'll survive. What else is there to do? I know I have to start to build a life without him. It's not going to be easy, but there's nothing else I can do.
I'm slowly getting better. I can stand now - even walk a few feet on my own, although I need a cane to lean on. It feels good, because the feeling of total helplessness is gone, and I feel like I'm starting to take control of my life again.
Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. I sigh lightly, and grab hold of the coffee table to get up from the couch. I know I have to get the door myself, because there's no one else at home. I stand up slowly and grab my cane, which stands beside the couch, and slowly make my way to the door and pull it open.
Sasha stands outside in her uniform, and smiles at me as she says, "Hi."
"Hi," I answer, and open the door wider for her to come in, before turning around and slowly walking back to the couch.
Sasha follows me and sits down beside me. Then she starts to do small talk - as she always does when she come to visit. She asks how I'm doing, congratulates me to my excellent progress, and talks about work and stuff like that. There's something different about her today, though. She almost seems nervous. She's shifting continuously on the couch, and it feels like she's trying to avoid my gaze. I wonder what's up, because something is up - I'm sure about that now. Suddenly it hits me that she hasn't brought up Bosco yet. She usually does eventually, in a casual way - like she doesn't plan to, and I always pretend not to care about whether she does or not - but I do. Actually, that's the only reason to that I'm listening to her rambling in the first place. I have a feeling she's aware of that, but she never makes anything of it, and I'm grateful for it. But today she doesn't seem to be able to get to the point. I decide to offer her some help.
"So, you say work is quiet. I guess that means Bosco hasn't managed to drive you insane yet," I say lightly.
She fidgets a bit, and put in a lot of effort to avoid my gaze. Then she takes a deep breath before answering, "Well, one of the reasons to that it's been so quiet and peaceful is because he hasn't been around this week."
I can feel my heart skip a beat. Now what? What does she mean with 'hasn't been around this week?' It's Friday today for crying out loud! Does she really mean he hasn't been at work for five days? Why wouldn't he be at work? He loves work. He never misses it. I'm starting to get afraid. Has something happened to him? Is that why Monroe acts so strange?
I swallow hard and manage to compose myself enough to ask, "So what has happened? Has he got himself suspended again, or has God finally heard my prayers and made him transfer to another precinct?"
I'm relived to hear that my voice sounds just as cool and uncaring as I want it to. I have to watch myself here. I can't risk blowing my cover for something that could very well be nothing. I'm probably just overreacting. That's what I always do when it comes to Bosco, both he and Fred used to tell me so.
She looks seriously at me, "No, there's nothing like that, he called in sick."
I raise my eyebrows with - what I hope is - a nonchalant look on my face, but my heart is beating like a subway train, as I say, "Bosco? Did Bosco call in sick?"
"Yeah, he did, but he's probably just trying to avoid having to be out in this cold," she replies halfheartedly, and smiles faintly.
I want to scream that she's wrong, that Bosco would never do such a thing, but I have a feeling she already know that - and besides, I'm not even supposed to care.
"Yeah, probably," I answer and force a smile on my face.
Monroe twists her hands nervously and stands up, before saying, "Yeah, well I'll better go. I have to get back to work. Take care, Faith, see you later."
I nod. "Yeah, later - stay safe." She nods back and leaves.
I'm sitting on the couch, almost out of my mind out of worry for him. Why did he call in sick? He never gets sick. He's probably just trying to avoid something he doesn't want to do -just as Monroe said - but then again, Bosco would never do such thing. At least not the Bosco I knew, but who knows? I haven't seen him in a very long time - maybe he has changed. So I'm sitting here and staring out in the space, and my mind keeps going around in circles. I know I shouldn't worry, but I can't help it. Suddenly there's a key in the lock, and Emily walks through the door with Charlie in tie.
I look up, startled, because I was so lost in my thoughts, I forgot about the time. I quickly try to look as 'normal' as possible, but it's too late. I can tell by the frown on Emily's face that she has already seen there's something wrong.
"Mom, you OK?" she asks worriedly.
I swallow hard, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."
Her frown deepens, "What have you done today? You didn't over do it, did you?" she says reproachfully.
I shake my head, "No, honey, not at all. I've been sitting here on the couch all day. Sasha came by and kept me company for a while," I answer, and try to sound cheerful.
Emily looks inquiringly at me, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. "So, did she have anything interesting to tell you?" she asks innocently, but I can hear the challenge in her voice.
Damn it! Why does she have to be able to see right through me? I just shake my head, because I really don't trust my voice at this point. Emily continues to look intensely at me before saying, "Charlie, why don't you go and start with your homework?"
He looks up from the fridge, and replies in a mocking voice, "Only if I can eat my snack in my room."
Emily sighs and rolls her eyes. "OK, just go on!"
Charlie turns around, and grins at me, before sticking out his tongue at his sister. I sigh." Charlie! Be nice to your sister!"
He grins again and says, "OK, Mom, " before running off to his room.
Emily watches him leave, and then she turns to me and asks, "What did Sasha tell you to upset you so much? Is something wrong with Bosco?"
I open my mouth to respond, but in that moment Fred walks through the door - of course. "Hi, baby, how are you today?" he asks kindly and kisses me.
Before I get a chance to answer, Emily does it for me. "Mom doesn't feel well today. I was just about to help her to bed. Right, Mom?" she says, holding my gaze.
I can't express how much I love her in this moment. She knows I need to be saved. She knows there's no way I can sit through a dinner with Fred today without ruining everything, and she bails me out. I'm so grateful, I could cry. I force a faint smile on my face, before answering, "Yeah, that's right. I don't feel so good. I think I'm coming down with the flu or something."
Fred looks worriedly at me, "You OK? You don't need a doctor, or anything?"
I manage to give him another faint smile, "No, that's OK. I just need to get some rest."
He nods sympathetically, "You just go and lie down. Emily and I can handle things."
"I know you can," I answer in a grateful voice, and try to get hold of my emotions. Fred's kindness almost gets too much for me to handle, and I can feel myself being very close to tears. Emily senses it, and quickly walks up and gently takes my arm, "Come on, Mom. I'll help you."
She walks with me to the bedroom and waits until I've laid down. Then she says, "Try to get some rest. I'll come back after dinner - when they're watching TV - and then we'll talk, OK?"
I smile gratefully, "Thanks."
She smiles back, "It's no big deal, and don't worry. I'm sure we can sort out what ever it is."
She leaves, and I close my eyes and wonder when I allowed my daughter to become my mother.
***********
"Mom, you awake?" Emily whispers, and sits down on the edge of my bed.
I open my eyes, "Yeah," I whisper back.
She smiles kindly at me, and asks, "Now, tell me, what's wrong? What did Sasha say?"
"She said Bosco hasn't been around the whole week - that he called in sick," I reply, and I can hear the fear in my voice. I really am pathetic to get so upset about something like this. I obviously need to get a life.
Emily looks pensively at me for a few moments, and then she says hesitantly, "Yeah, that's probably right. I haven't seen him outside our school the whole week."
I look at her, stunned. "Does he usually stand outside your school?"
She smiles, "Yeah, he and Sasha park their squad car there almost every afternoon. I guess he wants to check on us."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask quietly.
She shrugs, "I don't know. I guess I thought it would make it harder for you to pretend that you don't care about him anymore. You know, harder for you to hide it to Dad."
I close my eyes. I love her for being so smart and caring, and hate myself for being so pathetic, that she has to. I'm supposed to look out for her, not the other way around.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, "for making you keep secrets from your father."
She takes my hand and squeezes it gently. "Don't worry about it. It's OK. He really doesn't need to know everything. Everybody has a right to some privacy - even you," she says with a smile.
I smile back, gratefully, "Thanks."
She nods, "You're welcome. So what do you think it's wrong with him? He doesn't usually get sick, does he?"
I swallow hard, and shake my head.
"So that's why you're so worried, right?" she asks gently.
I nod again, not really sure I would be able to speak without crying. Hearing Emily voice my own thoughts make them feel more real, and my worry increases with every passing moment. All sorts of images of him, lying alone in misery, without being able to call for help, run through my head.
Emily bites down her bottom lip, and says hesitantly, "Do you think he could have had another nervous breakdown? He's looked kind of distressed lately."
"He has?" I can feel a knot forming in my stomach. I haven't even considering that option, because everybody keeps telling me he seems fine.
Emily nods. "Yeah, and since he can't come to you for help - like he did the last time, he might don't know what to do. I mean, I hardly think Sasha would hold him if he started to cry - like you did. So maybe he prefers to be alone - just in case."
I stare at her in chock. "You saw that?"
She smiles again. "Yeah, I did, but don't worry. I think it's cool that you two care that much about each other - at least now, when I'm not a stupid kid anymore. I'm sorry about how I acted towards both of you before."
It's my turn to squeeze her hand, "It's OK. It was a rough time for all of us."
"So what do you think? Could that be it?" she asks again.
"I don't know, Em. I have no idea what's wrong, and that's what scares me the most. It's not like I can ask anybody either," I answer, and I can her the agony in my voice.
"There has to be a way to find out, without anyone knowing you were the one who wanted to know," she says thoughtfully.
Then suddenly her face is lit up by a big smile, "Now I know! I can call him on his cell! He gave me the number, remember?"
I look skeptically at her, "And say what?"
"I can ask him to do me a favor or something."
"What kind of favor?"
She smiles mischievously, "I think I have an idea. So what do you say, wanna try?"
I nod. It's not like I have much of a choice. I need to know what's wrong, and this is my only way to do that.
"OK, you ready?" Emily asks, and takes her cell phone out of her pocket.
I nod once more, and watch how she hits speed dial #6. We wait in silence for him to pick up. It seems like an eternity to me, but then Emily smiles at me, and says into the phone, "Hi, Bosco. It's Emily."
"No, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong. How about you? You sound tired."
I feel my stomach drop, time to throw the hope that nothing is wrong, in the trash. I can see Emily's eyebrows furrow, and then she asks, "You sure? You don't sound so good."
"Oh, I'm sorry, it doesn't sound like fun," her voice is filled with sympathy.
"No, it was nothing. I just wanted to ask you a favor, but if you don't feel well."
"No, it's OK. It was no big deal, really."
"No, I'm not in trouble, I promise," she says and sounds offended, but at the same time she smiles at me and roll her eyes. I have to smile back, although it kind of scares me how good of an actor she is.
"I just needed a lift that's all. I'm going to a party, and it's kind of far away, and I don't want to tell Dad, because he isn't gonna like it." I stare worriedly at her. What is she up to? This part of the conversation I don't really need to hear.
She notices my horrified look, and winks at me. I realize she just making it up, and for a moment I lose focus and want to strangle her for scaring me like that. I don't want her to be this good at these kinds of games.
"No, it's nothing illegal or bad, I promise! But you know how Dad is, with all his Jesus stuff, and things like that."
"Yeah, I know he cares about me, and that I should be happy to have such a great father, but."
"Yeah, I know I should obey his wishes, but I just want to have some fun," she whines and smiles at me again.
"OK, I'll stay at home. I promise," her voice sounds grumpy now.
"Yeah, yeah, I swear!" she says angrily, but her eyes is twinkling with amusement.
"You OK?" her voice and face are suddenly filled with worry, and I can feel my chest tighten with worry.
"You sure?"
"OK, I swear, I mean it Bosco. I really do. I gonna stay at home like a good girl. I'm sorry to bother you. You just try to get better now, OK?" she replies regretfully.
"On Monday? Are you sure? OK, see you Monday then," she says softly.
"OK. You too, bye Bosco."
She pushes end, and looks up at me. "Boy, he's almost as bossy as you!"
I can't help but smile. I like that he's bossy to Emily - after all - she fooled him into believe that she was up to something. Not to mention, how happy and proud I am about the fact that he wants to take that kind of responsibility for my kids. Then I remember the real reason to this performance, and I feel the worry coming back with full force as I ask, "So?"
She looks worriedly at me, bites down her bottom lip, and says, "He didn't sound good at all. He said he had the stomach flu. He'd been throwing up all week."
"The whole week?" I reply with a mix of fear and disbelief," has he really been throwing up all week?"
She nods her head. "That's what he said. He seemed to be in a lot of pain too. It kind of hit him when we were talking, he had to take deep breaths."
I close my eyes. Oh God, what's wrong with him? It can't just be the stomach flu. It doesn't last for a week! I feel Emily's hand squeeze mine, and open my eyes again.
She looks kindly at me, "Try not to worry, OK? He said he was feeling better, and that he was going in to work on Monday. He said he would drop by our school and talk to me, so then I can tell you if he's OK."
I sigh, not worry, well that's easier said then done. "OK, I'll try - and, Emily, thanks a lot for helping me find out."
She smiles and winks at me, "You're welcome. It's no big deal, actually it was kind of fun."
"Well, Emily, I can't say I appreciate how good you are at this lying stuff."
"Life works that way, Mom. Sometimes you have to be a good liar in order to survive. You of all people should know that," her voice is hash.
I close my eyes. She got me there.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean it," she whispers regretfully.
"Well, it was true," I answer tiredly.
"Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it. I'm really sorry."
"It's OK, Em, don't think about it. Thanks again for helping me."
She smiles fondly at me, "like I said, no big deal. Try to get some sleep now, OK?"
"OK," I reply and smile back at her.
She stands up and leaves the room. When I'm alone I'm starting to worry about Bosco again. It sounded pretty serious to me. I wish I could talk to him myself - or go and check on him, but that's impossible. I just have to wait until Monday and see how things turn out. Now I have to compose myself, and find a way to get through this weekend without Fred getting suspicious. Maybe I can continue to pretend to be sick. I close my eyes and wish I hadn't asked Bos to go away. I don't seem to be able to let go anyway, but this is the only way for me to save my marriage and sanity. There's no other way. I'm doomed to live in hell for the rest of my life. I fall a sleep thinking about Bosco, begging for him to be OK.