Free Family Interrupted by Linda Barrett

the best you can” a few months ago, I avoided berating him on his falling grades. However, I wouldn’t avoid another attempt to change his mind about leaving.
    “Take a walk with me, Ian. Let’s have a man-to-man conversation.”
    He paused then continued with me down the hall, away from the crowd. “I don’t want to talk, Dad. Please, just leave me alone. You and I? We’re good. But I’ve got to be on my own now. I’ve got to get out of here.”
    “That’s what I don’t understand. We’re all sad, we’re all grieving. Each of us in our own way. There are no rules about it. You’re free to cry, yell, curse.” I took a breath. “Ian, Ian...don’t you think families should stick together in a crisis?”
    He stared at me but remained silent. At least he was listening.
    “Work with me at the company until you’re ready to go to school again. It’ll be like the last three summers, but better. Better pay for you,” I joked, “and more responsibility. The refinery can survive without you. Barnes Construction can’t—not in the long run. It’s your future too, a future I thought you wanted.”
    Tears glistened in my son’s eyes. “I-I do. Someday. But not now. I-I need my own space. I’m sorry, Dad, but I have to work this out for myself.”
    I pictured him driving away in the morning, and my gut twisted in the kind of pain an antacid couldn’t touch.

Chapter 9
     
     
    CLAIRE
     
    I heard Ian stirring early Sunday morning, the day after his graduation party, anxious to be on his way. Anxious to be rid of us.
    Sure enough, when I reached the kitchen, he was wheeling one of his bags through the door. I stepped outside and watched as he hoisted it into his new truck. New to him, that is. A six-year-old genuine beater with almost a hundred thousand miles and two previous owners. He hadn’t asked our advice; in fact, he drove it home after making the purchase. Jack immediately brought it to our mechanic for an in-depth engine check. Of course, it needed fixing with a new water pump, a new alternator, and God knows what else. And of course, it would have been smarter and less expensive to buy a better vehicle in the first place. Ian paid for the repairs, wouldn’t take a penny from us. I guessed he used up almost all his savings between the car and his new apartment. I let Jack handle the situation and kept mum.
    My son was avoiding me, couldn’t even look at me. I’d apologized for lashing out at him, so now he was free to blame me for Kayla’s death. And he did. He never said the words, but I understood. Because of me, he had to live with the memory of watching his sister get mowed down by an SUV. He hated me. I hated me too.
    None of it mattered now. Kayla was gone. Ian was leaving. He and Jack just hauled two more cartons to the truck and returned inside.
    “Hey, Mom. I’m heading out. Thanks for the kitchen stuff. Oh, I also left something for Maddy in my room. Could you give it to her?”
    “Sure.” Anything. I wasn’t even curious.
    He leaned over, air-kissed my cheek, and I grabbed him.
    Fear’s metallic flavor edged my tongue, slowly consuming me. My breaths became shallow. I squeezed Ian as tightly as I could, and he froze in place, his limbs and muscles quiet except for his heart, which pounded under my ear.
My son, my son!
Pain joined fear, stabbing and pulsing in my head to a salsa beat. I released Ian and pressed my temples, trying to stave it off.
    “Don’t go, Ian. Don’t leave. You’re our child too. We love you.”
    He turned toward his father. “I gotta get outta here.”
    “Wait, wait,” I said, latching onto a different tack. “Did the landlord clean your place? Shampoo the carpets? Exterminate?” Jack had seen the apartment. He’d come home shaking his head. “It can’t be ready yet.”
    “I’m doing most of the work myself and getting a month’s free rent.”
    Jack said, “By the time he’s finished, the place will be in better shape than when it was new.