50. Emily asked her husband if there was any news. He shook his head. She sat down on the sofa and took off her shoes. She put her feet on the coffee table. She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. It was 6 o'clock. The news was on three channels. She didn't want to see the news. The news depressed her. It was usually about accidents and murders. There was too much bad news on the TV news.
She found a talk show to watch. It was Ellen. She liked Ellen. Ellen was a comedian. She told good jokes. She showed animals doing funny things. She gave expensive gifts to her fans occasionally. This show was a rerun, but that didn't matter to Emily.
All she wanted to do was relax. Watching Ellen helped a little. Emily's husband had just lost his job. Her only child had dropped out of high school. Even worse, he had left home. He told Emily he would call from time to time. But he hadn't called even once. Tomorrow would mark two weeks since he'd left home.
She told her husband, who was sitting in the easy chair, "I'm worried sick. We don't know where he is. We don't know if he's even alive." Her husband said she shouldn't worry. He had done the same thing when he was 17. But when he found out how hard it was on the road, he returned home and finished high school.
She said, "I know. You've told me that story before. Your story has a happy ending. But this is Petey's story. He could be lying dead in a ditch right now, killed by a drunk driver or stabbed by some homeless person that wanted his jacket. The police haven't been any help. I can't concentrate at work. I can't relax at home. I can't sleep at night." She started weeping.
Her husband handed her a tissue. He sat next to her on the sofa and put his arm around her. He said, "It'll be all right. Everything's going to be okay. I'm sure Petey's safe. He'll probably call tomorrow. He might even show up tomorrow. Tomorrow is two weeks, right? I was gone for only two weeks myself. Maybe like father, like son. C'mon, honey, chin up."
She snuggled up close to him and went to sleep on the sofa. 2.3, 385
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