The front door slammed as Tina began pulling clothes from the dryer. She heard the truck start out front. That would be Pete, on his way to work at the burger place. This was an assumption on her part, since he hadn’t said goodby.
What had happened to her communicative son? When he’d turned sixteen he’d stopped using his mouth, except to eat. Even then, he kept his eyes on his plate and ate as quickly as possible. She shook her head and pulled his jeans from the dryer. She was still doing his laundry. After she’d told him to do it himself, he’d let it pile up so much it had started to smell and she’d given up on that battle.
As she turned the jeans upside down to straighten the legs, Pete’s wallet fell to the floor. “Serves him right if he gets stopped,” she grumbled. Then she reached for her cell phone and dialed his number.
Copyright © 2013 Loretta Miles Tollefson