Dad & Me Part 8

Once The Son got all settled into his best friends Grandma's house, school began. Bless her heart, she got him to every appointment imaginable.. from the dentist, to the doctor and he even got his drivers license. School clothes, supplies, senior portraits.. he well on his way to having a wonderful, normal senior year.

Out of nowhere, his relatives started coming out of the woodwork. Grandparents (from his Mom's side), Aunts, Uncles and cousins. Where they had been hiding out the previous couple of years is beyond me (don't even get me started) but they suddenly came out en mass. Could it of been She Devil sending out the Red Alert?

I'm sure it was.

Mind you, the entire time all this was going down, NONE of his family knew I was involved. He didn't want any issues because they all thought She Devil was an innocent princess and he was afraid of yet more retaliation.

Talk about heads in sand, right??!

Family chatter buzzed about Poor She Devil.. she was being harassed by the local police and had done nothing wrong. Of course, the version they all heard was the spin about how she stepped up and tried to help Dad. And The Son..

Blah Blah Blah.. Cry Cry Cry..

As senior year rolled on, The Son lived up to the teenager reputation. When he got his license, his Grandpa gave him an old truck and he was all about cruisin' with his friends. I told him it was time he got a job (JUST LIKE I HAD TO) and he drug his feet for months. He started talking back to Best Friend's Grandma and on one occasion, when told he had to go visit Dad, refused.. saying he would rather hang out at the mall instead.

(Insert needle across album noise here) ~ 'Scuse me?

When I caught wind of THAT little episode let me state for the record that yes, I called and tore into him like I guarantee he had never been torn into before. I was DONE hearing his, "Poor Me" stories and only getting calls when he needed extra money for this and that (from Dad's account). Remember he cried over how he never got to see Dad and now that he could go at his own leisure he couldn't be bothered. The boy that I felt so badly for got every wish granted.. then turned into lippy little punk.

Nice.

In June of that year I flew out to visit Dad again. It was The Son's graduation day but I had long since decided I would not attend. Much to his delight, I'm sure--how would he explain THAT to his family?

Auntie, Best Friend's Grandma and I checked Dad out of the nursing home and took him to his favorite restaurant. It was a wonderful time. He wrote on his note pad and kept asking me about the status of the criminal case against She Devil. I had not heard from the detective in quite some time (par for the course--he was nearly impossible to get a hold of) and made several attempts to reach him by phone.

By some stroke of luck, while in the restaurant parking lot I got the detective on the line. He seemed rather confused by my call and when I told him we were just checking in he informed me, "The case has been closed.. a few months ago, actually. The Son refused to give a statement.."

I about passed out.

The little rat, not wanting to get on his family's bad side (and continue riding Grandpa's Gravy Train) totally bailed on Dad.

The Son's new name? He Devil.