Redemption Song by Melodie Murray Page A

jump on the bar stool, just like old times, but he held back. He wasn’t the same innocent little kid that Granny used to make breakfast for. He was an irresponsible teenager who had been sent to this house against his will because he’d been bad and then been too dumb to keep from getting caught. And now, here was his sweet grandmother—whom he had neglected to visit for a large portion of his lifespan thus far—making him breakfast like he was still that sweet well-behaved little kid. She couldn’t have known why he was there. There’s no way she would be doing all of this for him if she did.
    This thought only helped to fuel Ethan’s anger towards his mom. Not only did she confine him to this southern prison, but she also did it so that he would be unknowingly guilt tripped every time his grandmother did something nice for him. If she wanted to punish him, why didn’t she just yell, or take away his phone, or take away his driving privileges . . . something that normal parents did. No, instead she had taken away his entire life. Who does that?
    “Ethan, honey, are you okay?” Granny asked when Ethan didn’t answer.
    “He wooks wike he might pook.” Ben grumbled through a mouthful of gravy that dripped from his chin.
    He might be right , Ethan thought.
    Ted remained silent.
    Ethan glanced up to three sets of inquisitive eyes. “I . . . uh . . . I think I need to make a call.” He dashed from the kitchen into the little garden leaving his puzzled grandmother behind.
    As the door slapped shut behind him, he heard Ted speak. “He’ll be fine. He’s just going to call his mom.”
    How did Ted know that?
    It took five rings for her to pick up.
    “Hello!” Her voice was calm and happy, as though she'd been looking forward to his call all morning. Not at all what he had expected.
    “Mom?”
    “Hey, honey! How’s Alabama?”
    “How do you think Alabama is, Mom?! Have you completely lost your mind, shipping me off here like some convict?! Do you have any idea what all goes into canceling a concert . . . and the Staples Center of all places?!”
    Her tone remained the same, as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “Well I’m glad you’re having a good time, honey. Tell your grandmother I send my love.”
    “Mom, are you hearing anything I’m saying? This is torture! Look, I understand I messed up and I’m sorry, but I’ve got a career to worry about here. I can’t just take random vacations whenever I feel like it!”
    His mom finally broke the act and got real.
    “See, Ethan, that’s where you’re wrong. You are only seventeen years old and for at least the next year, you’re life is in my hands. And until you prove that you’re responsible enough to be a role model to those fans that pay big bucks to idolize you, you won’t be around for them to praise.”
    Ethan’s cheeks flushed crimson.
    “You can’t do that! All I have to do is call Bruce and he’ll fix all of this. I have my own money, you know. I can leave whenever I want.”
    “Oh, Ethan, don’t be so naïve. Bruce knows his place, and he’s been instructed to leave you alone or he’ll be forced to find a new star to make his money for him. And as for your money, I’ve had all of your accounts frozen except for one. You’ll find a debit card in the front pocket of your suitcase. That should hold you until you’ve learned what it’s like to be a real kid again, depending on how quick a learner you are, of course.”
    Ethan clenched his fist and contemplated punching out a fern hanging from the patio next to his head. “Mom, please! This is ridiculous. I’m famous for crying out loud! What am I supposed to do here when people realize who I am? They’ll flood the house! Paparazzi will be everywhere! I won’t even be able to stick my head out of a window!”
    “Then you’ll get plenty of rest, but until that happens, you might want to keep a low profile. And might I suggest not drinking and driving. That usually helps