Page 26 of Sometimes You Fall

When Chase asked if he could hang out at his new friend Jared’s house, I was so damn excited that he was making friends that I didn’t think twice before agreeing. I never imagined something could go wrong—so terribly wrong.

I was also ecstatic thinking about the fact that I could go to sleep before eight o’clock without feeling guilty for not spending time with my son. The exhaustion and persistent nausea have been wearing on me all week. It was all I could do to make it to Friday.

And now, as I stand in the same space as Grady, the other issue I’ve been avoiding looms over me, reminding me that I have to tell him my news eventually. But tonight is definitely not the time, given our current circumstances.

“Ma’am, your son was caught trespassing, breaking and entering, and vandalizing Mr. Reynolds’ business tonight.” The officer explains what transpired since he didn’t get a chance to on the phone. As soonas I heard that my son was being arrested, I cut him off and asked for the address, shaking with nerves as I raced toward Grady’s Garage.

I already knew that avoiding Grady was no longer possible, but this is not how I envisioned our reunion going.

“Chase Matthew Warner! Have you lost your damn mind?”

“It wasn’t my idea!” he yells, as if that excuse is going to get him anywhere.

I pull my robe tighter around my body and peer around at the destruction in the garage. “That’s funny—because you’re the only one in handcuffs right now, so how the hell are you supposed to convince me that someone else is responsible for destroying Grady’s car?”

Chase’s eyes dart to Grady and then back to me. “You know this guy?”

Grady grunts, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “Ha. Yeah, we know each other.”

“Shit,” my son mutters, hanging his head.

“Watch your language and start talking,” I demand.

With his eyes still focused on the ground, Chase begins to mumble. “Jared said he wanted to take me and the other kid somewhere, have us prove that we wanted to be on the team.”

“What team?” Grady interjects.

“The baseball team,” I answer for my son as Grady huffs out a breath.

“Of fucking course,” he grates, running his hand through his hair as he starts to pace the floor. But I can only track his movement from the corner of my eye because my main focus is my kid and how badly I want to strangle him right now.

“So they convinced you to break into the garage and vandalize a car?” I shriek, my voice echoing off the walls of the garage. “And you just listened to them?”

“What’s the other kid’s name?” The officer chimes in.

Chase’s eyes dart to the side, but I bend down, grab his chin, and force him to meet my gaze. “Tell the officer right now before this gets even worse for you, kid.”

“Trent. Trent McDonald,” he mutters.

“And Jared? What’s his last name?” The officer scribbles on a notepad.

“Brown,” Chase says as I release his chin and stand up straight again. But as I do, a wave of dizziness hits me, and I feel myself starting to sway.

“Whoa, Scottie.” Grady grabs me before I fall, holding me in his arms.

And God, he smells good. Like soap and sweat. His scent—it’s one of the few things that hasn’t instantly triggered my nausea.

Absolutely not, little one. I refuse to be one of those pregnant women who eats soap or craves dirt. Get it together.

Rubbing my stomach, I let Grady guide me over to a chair. “Are you all right?” he asks, concern etched on his face.

I peer up at him, wondering how on earth I’m going to get through this.

One thing at a time, Scottie.

“Yeah, I just got up too fast.”

“Mom?” Chase calls out to me, pleading with his eyes. My son doesn’t do this shit. Sure, he’s a teenager and makes stupid choices more often than not, but this is beyond stupid. This is illegal.

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