Words.

“I need you to do me a favour.”

“Sure. What?”

“I need you to come here and take James home with you.”

“Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine except for James and, well, I can’t take care of him anymore. You need to come and get him and take him home with you.”

“He’s your.. son. He’s five. What do you mean you can’t take care of him anymore?”

“I mean exactly what I just said. I can’t do it anymore. He’s miserable and I’m miserable and we make each other miserable. Please. Come and get him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? Why can’t you? I’ll pack up a nice suitcase of his clothes and some toys and you can take him home for a while.”

“A weekend?”

“Well. Well, I was thinking a bit longer than that, really.”

“Longer? Longer than a weekend? He has to go to school on Monday, you realize.”

“Aren’t there any good public schools near you? I’m not asking you to pay for private schooling for him.”

“Are you asking me to pick up your son and keep him? You want me to… Are you crazy? What’s going on? What’s REALLY going on?”

“I already told you. Which part don’t you understand? We’re miserable.”

“I’m not adopting your son.”

“No one asked you to. I’m asking you to take him home with you until I can do this again.”

“Do… what? Be his mother?”

“Yes. Until then. Until I’m ready to do that. To be his mother.”

“Have you been to the doctor? Talked to Keith?”

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“I didn’t say there was, it’s just that.. well, you know.. this is sort of a strange request to be making out of the blue. To ask me to take your son.”

“No it’s not. Please. Just come and get him.”

“I.. okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Thank you. Do you want to stay for lunch?”