“Chaining them to a wall would work. Too bad the state frowns on that.”
“Very funny.” She looked up at him. “We can’t stop them from drinking—you know that. If not tonight, then some night they’ll get drunk. That’s just the way it is. So, what do we do to protect them? Maybe we should have a party here. We could take the kids’ keys and make sure everyone stayed safe. We could make sure they don’t drink too much.”
“Uh. No. We’d be risking everything we own. Not to mention, if someone got hurt, we’d be responsible. And you know teenagers, they’re like bacteria. They multiply too fast to see and you can’t keep them in your sights. I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.”
Jude knew he was right, but it didn’t help. “Do you remember high school? Because I sure do. Keggers at Morrow Farm were a weekly occurrence. And we drove home.”
“You have to trust them, Jude. Let them start making some decisions. Mia’s smart, and she sure as hell isn’t a party girl. And Zach would never let anything bad happen to her. You know that.”
“I guess.” Jude nodded, thinking it all through for the thousandth time. There seemed to her to be no good answer. No indisputably right way to go.
For the rest of the evening, Jude wrestled with the question of how to be the best parent in this situation. She was still trying to figure it out at nine o’clock when the kids came running down the stairs.
“Well?” Zach said.
She looked at her kids. Zach, so tall and handsome and steady in his low-rise jeans and striped American Eagle sweatshirt, and Mia, in tattered blue jean capris, white T-shirt, and blue silk men’s tie, knotted off to the side. She had her hair drawn back in a ponytail that geysered at the top of her head. She’d come out of her shell since meeting Lexi, but she was still fragile, a little needy. She could get her heart broken so easily, could make the wrong decision because she was afraid of being laughed at.
They were good kids. Honest kids who cared about their futures. They’d never given Jude any reason to mistrust them.
“Madre?” Zach said, smiling, reaching for her hand. “Come on. You know you can trust us.”
Jude knew he was manipulating her, using her love to his advantage, but she was helpless to resist. She loved them both so much and she wanted them to be happy. “I don’t know…”
Mia rolled her eyes. “This is like the witch trials. Can we go or not?”
“We said we won’t drink,” Zach said.
Miles came up beside Jude, slipped an arm around her waist. “We can count on your word, then?”
Zach’s face split into a huge smile. “Absolutely.”
“Your curfew is midnight,” Jude said.
“Midnight?” Zach said. “That’s so lame. Like we’re middle schoolers. Come on, Mom. Dad?”
Miles said “Midnight,” at the same time Jude said, “One o’clock.”
Zach and Mia surged at her, drew her into a fierce hug.
“Stay safe,” Jude said nervously. “If there’s any trouble, call me. I mean it. If you drink—and you shouldn’t—but if you do, call home. Your dad and I will pick you up, and any of your friends. I mean it. No questions asked, no getting in trouble. I promise. Okay?”
“We know,” Mia said. “You’ve told us for years.”
And with that, they were off, running for the sporty white Mustang she and Miles had bought for them last year.
“You should have held firm at midnight,” Miles said when the car door slammed shut.
“I know,” she said. It was so easy for him. When Miles said no, they gave up. When she said no, they tried harder, boring through her resolve like boll weevils through corn, until there was nothing left between them and what they wanted.
Miles frowned as the red taillights of Zach’s car disappeared into the darkness. “Senior year isn’t going to be easy.”
“No,” Jude said. Already she regretted the decision to let them go. There were so many things that could go wrong …