Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“THC? You mean marijuana?” His voice was growing louder by the second. “My son was trying to buy fucking marijuana? How the fuck did that happen?”
“I’m not really sure. I just know Corry was with a few of his friends down at the park, and they tried to buy it from an undercover officer. The officer called me a little while ago to let me know what had happened.”
“When was this?”
“A couple of hours ago?”
“It’s after dark.” I could hear the anger in his voice building as he fussed, “What the hell was he doing out at this hour?”
“It wasn’t dark at the time, Marc. We hadn’t even had dinner yet, so I didn’t see the harm in them going to play basketball for an hour or two.” It was well before sundown, but that didn’t matter. I knew he would twist everything around to be my fault. Normally, it wouldn’t bother me. I would let it roll off my back, but this was different. This was something Marc could use to get full custody of the boys. I tried my best to choose my words wisely as I told him, “The park is just around the corner, and I always call to check in on him.”
“Instead of calling to check on him, you should’ve gotten your ass over there and made sure he was doing what he was supposed to. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been out there buying fucking dope!” Marc roared. “For Christ’s sake, Frankie. Do you even watch the boys, or do you just let them run wild and do whatever the hell they want?”
“You know damn well I watch them, Marc.” I’d made a lot of mistakes with the boys—one of them was staying with Marc as long as I had. I should’ve never let them be exposed to his madness for so long. I should’ve gotten out of there. I should’ve ignored Marc’s threats about killing me and packed my bags. At the very least, I should’ve talked to my parents and told them what was going on. I should’ve gotten help from someone, anyone. Something. Anything. I was simply too ashamed. Too embarrassed that I’d married someone so awful, and I didn’t want to be a burden. I was the one who had to figure it out. I kept telling myself it would get better, that I’d make it better, but I’d failed—I’d failed them and I’d failed myself. And I was still paying the consequences for that failure. I stomped out my cigarette, then tossed it into the trash as I snapped, “I’ve always tried to do right by Corry and Sean, and you know it!”
“That’s the fucking problem right there! You coddle them too damn much. They rule the roost over there, and you let them get away with it!” Before I had a chance for a rebuttal, he snarled, “To think you let my boy go out and buy fucking marijuana!”
“I didn’t let him buy marijuana, Marc! Had I known he was even thinking about buying it, I wouldn’t have let him go!” I clinched my fist at my side, trying my best to steady myself. I knew it would be like this, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear his harsh words. I knew I had to redirect the focus of our conversation from me and back to where it truly belonged, so I said, “We’re getting off track here. Right now, we need to be figuring out what we are going to do about Corry.”
“We’re gonna beat his ass. That’s what we’re gonna do. At least, I know that’s what I’m gonna do! I’m sure you’ll want to just give him a little slap on the wrist, but if you do that, it will be the mistake of a lifetime! That boy needs some real fucking discipline, and I’m about to give it to him.”
If I were talking to a rational man, I might agree with what Marc was saying, but he wasn’t a rational man—even when he was dealing with his own child. He had a short fuse, and when he blew, he didn’t care who he hurt or how badly. I couldn’t imagine putting Corry through that again, so I did my best to try and calm him down. “I don’t think beating his ass is the answer. Not with this. Corry is just fifteen. The very idea that he would even think about buying marijuana is a real problem. I think it’s a cry for help.”
“Oh, I guess this is where you’re gonna say he needs more counseling or some shit like that.”
“Actually, I am.” I’d tried talking to Corry. I’d taken him to one counselor after the next, but he simply wouldn’t open up. He kept all that hurt bottled up inside, and it was utterly heartbreaking to know there wasn’t anything I could do to help him. “Corry is a good kid. He’s just lost his way, and if we can find the right person to help him, then maybe he can find his way back.”