Mom must have known something happened because she was waiting for me at the kitchen door when I staggered in and collapsed in a chair.
She sat next to me, holding my hand, listening as I told her everything and how they all turned on me. I waited for her to tell me I was being stupid like everyone else did.
"If you think this boy is trouble," she said, "I believe you."
Really? Mom was backing me? Mom never backed me. Okay, that wasn't exactly true or fair. But if Uncle Frank thought I was being a jerk, my mother should have, too.
"What am I going to do?" I just felt miserable, all wrung out and heavy like the world sat on my shoulders.
She squeezed my hands. "One problem at a time," she said. "Your father wants us to contact him."
I sat up immediately. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I
