I stood up, my body aching with stiffness from the rocker, and eased the glass from my mother’s hand. The rain had stopped hours ago, leaving the air steamy and thick with moisture.
The lengthy wait had calmed me a bit. I assumed Trey must have been up at the co-op, because Sean was there for a long time. That meant my son was safe, but just as stubborn as always. Sean would have needed to sit down and talk some sense into my love-struck teenager before coercing him to come back home.
Being the kind of man I sensed he was, Sean probably spent the return trip gently scolding Trey for having worried his mother and grandmother. Hopefully, he also gave my son a few sound pieces of advice on how becoming an adult meant accepting one’s responsibilities. In my mind, I could already hear Trey’s words of contrition.
Of course I’d forgive him, wrapping my tired arms around his broad back. Then, after I’d thanked Sean effusively, we would go inside and get some much-needed sleep.
So when Sean’s truck finally cleared the trees and drew alongside the porch close enough for me to see that the passenger seat was empty, I felt the knot of fear form in my belly again.
I covered my mouth with my hand as though I could hold back the question I was too scared to ask.
“Trey’s okay,” Sean said the moment he got out of the truck, and I drew in a deep breath. He hurried to my side. “Your son is all right. He was sitting around a campfire playing the guitar when I got there. He had an open beer can at his side, but he wasn’t inebriated. He was well fed and relaxed and completely…happy.”
As my body sagged in relief, Sean’s description hit home. “Is that why he didn’t come back with you? He’s not happy here?”
Sean shifted uncomfortably, and I felt ashamed for putting him on the spot. He was a police officer, not a therapist, and he’d done me a huge favor by driving up the mountain in search of my son. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m just tired. You must be exhausted, too. I know how much you have going on…professionally, I mean. Would you like to come in?”
He shook his head. “No, thanks. Let me tell you what Trey said, and then I’ll be on my way. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
Glancing at my mother, he grinned and sat down on the top porch step. “Trey wanted me to assure you that he isn’t trying to upset anyone. He said he feels like he belongs with the people of Red Fox Mountain and he has something to contribute to their community.”
“Like what?” I wondered aloud.
“Apparently, he’s quite interested in their methods of organic farming. He’s also, ah, quite fond of the goats. He spent all day tending to them and, well, he seemed very sincere about learning how to care for them and market their products.”
I sunk down onto the step below Sean’s and stared into the inky night. “Trey has an affinity for goats? Are you sure he’s talking about goats and not Iris?”
Sean’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “He also admitted that he wanted to impress the young lady, but Jasper made it perfectly clear that the co-op is not a place for the disingenuous or for freeloaders. People are welcome to visit, but they cannot stay indefinitely unless they contribute to the community. Tomorrow, Trey will begin the first day of his monthlong trial process. At the end of thirty days, if he still wants to stay, the community will vote on whether to accept him as one of their permanent members.”
“Don’t they need my consent? He’s still a minor.”
Pursing his lips, Sean considered my question. “I don’t know, Lila. He’s earned his high school diploma, so truancy doesn’t enter the picture. You’d have to ask a lawyer. I’m no expert on this sort of thing, but if Trey likes living up there, he may apply for emancipated minor status.”
“Good Lord!” I leaned back against the stair railing, stunned and speechless. A vision of Trey with long, matted hair, a dirt-smudged face, and threadbare clothes entered my mind. I pictured him feeding a carrot stick to a mangy goat with one hand while smoking a joint with the other. “I wonder if he’ll even go to college now.”
Sensing my consternation, Sean put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, this is probably just a phase—something he needs to go through before he settles down into a more, ah, mainstream career.”
I nodded, really wanting to believe him. “You’re probably right. We’re talking about a kid who breaks out in hives if he can’t check Facebook twenty times a day. And whenever I really wanted to punish him, I just took away his video game system for a week.” Laughing, I felt pretty confident that Trey would be back in front of Althea’s only television set by Monday. “No DVDs, no text messages…Wait a minute, is there any kind of cell phone reception there? What if he needs to reach me? What if I have to talk to him?”