In My Shoes by Adrian Stephens Page B

know much about my father. My mother
doesn’t say a lot about him, and I’ve never pushed the subject
much. It’s not that she says anything bad about him. It’s more that
she seems really sad and angry when I mention him. I know his name
is Steve Matthews, and he left when I was one or two years old. You
won’t really need to know anything about him. It’s not a subject
that comes up with my mother or my friends.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said.
    “Don’t be. I’m not feeling sorry for myself.
This is what I know. It’s not like I knew him when he was here, and
then he left.”
    “I…guess that’s a good way to look at it.
It’s just hard for me to imagine. So…this is your mom’s room, you
said?”
    “Yes,” I replied. “She has a small walk-in
closet at the far end of the room. Straight ahead and to the right
is her dressing room and bathroom. I’m not in here very often.
Usually, I am just bringing laundry in or out.”
    We headed out of her room and made a left.
“Straight ahead is my bathroom, and my bedroom is on the left.
First, the bathroom. Not much to it. There’s a shower. No tub,
sorry.”
    “I’ll live,” she said. She sounded put out,
but it seemed like she was teasing.
    “So, the bedroom is here. I have a standard
closet. No walk-in. Bed is there and my clothes dresser is at the
far wall there. Feel free to look around.”
    She started walking around the room, opening
drawers and memorizing the contents. “Is there anything in here
that I should stay out of?”
    “No,” I replied, “I don’t have anything to
hide.”
    After a while, she turned to me and asked,
“Do you have my purse with you? I need my cell phone.”
    “I think I left it in the car, but you can
use the phone on my nightstand,” I said.
    “Girls never leave their purses laying
around. I never leave my purse in my car. It is either on me, or
put in a safe place like my desk or my room.” She seemed annoyed
that I left her purse in the car.
    “Sorry. I’ll go get it.”
    I went out to the car, grabbed her purse and
brought it in to her. “Here you go.”
    “Thanks. By the way, do you have a cell
phone?”
    “No, I don’t have the money for a cell
phone.”
    “Well, if things don’t go back to normal
tomorrow, we are going to have to go out and get you a phone. We
are going to have to be able to communicate.”
    “I’m kind of on a strict budget.”
    “I will buy it for you. We will get you a
prepaid phone.”
    “I don’t want you to have to buy it for
me.”
    “Look, if we are apart for some reason, we
will need to be able to contact each other to get answers. You have to have a phone. My parents gave me a credit card to
use in case of emergency. I think this qualifies.
    “There,” she went on, “I just texted Jessica
to collect my schoolwork so I can work on it this weekend. I asked
her to bring it by my house tomorrow. I told her that I was
sick.”
    “Good idea,” I said. “I should call Mike and
ask him to bring my homework over.”
    “Well, you can’t really do that. If you call
Mike, he’s going to wonder why ‘Nicole’ is calling him. I’ll call
him. What do you want me to say?”
    “Right. Just tell him you are sick and you
want him to bring my homework over tomorrow. Although, he probably
still thinks I’m mad at him. Oh man, we just left him passed out on
the floor today! I can only imagine what’s going on in his head. I
hope he’s okay.”
    “I will use that. If he mentions this
morning, I will tell him it never happened. How do you talk to
him?”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “I mean, do you call him Mike or Dude or Hey
You?”
    I smiled. “Well it depends on my mood. I’ve
called him all of those before. Mike is not really…what would be a
good word…eloquent? Try not to speak so proper.”
    I dialed the number and handed the phone to
Nicole. She started talking and I realized that she was leaving a
message. She told him she was sick and asked that he