I’m a 40-year-old mom, and I thought my thirteen-year-old daughter was innocently sleeping over at her best friend’s house until her mom texted me, “Jordan hasn’t been here in weeks,” and I felt sick to my stomach.
I’m 40, and my daughter, Jordan, is 13.
She’s always had the same best friend: Alyssa. I know Alyssa’s mother, Tessa. We’re not big on “telling each other our secrets,” but we’ve had enough birthday parties and road trips that I’ve trusted her.
The first month, I was cautious.
So when Jordan started asking to sleep over at Alyssa’s, I didn’t think too much of it.
Once a month became every other weekend.
Then it became routine. On Friday afternoon, I saw the backpack come out.
“Did you ask Tessa?” she’d reply.
After a while, it seemed automatic.
“Yes, Mom,” she sighed. “She said it was okay.”
The first month, I was careful. She texted him:
“Jordan is coming! 😊.”
Tessa replied:
“Okay!” or “Okay!”
Then what happened last Tuesday happened.
After a while, it seemed automatic. Sure. Normal.
So I stopped texting you all the time.
I just wrote the script for Mom at the Door.
“Behave. Be respectful. Text me if you need me.”
“Mom, stop,” he said. “I know.”
Then what happened last Tuesday happened.
Ten minutes later, my phone vibrated.
Jordan came out with his duffel bag, headphones slung over his shoulder, shouting “I love you!” over his shoulder.
I was loading the dishwasher when I remembered my birthday was coming up. I thought I’d invite a couple of friends. Maybe Tessa too, since she was practically my daughter’s weekend hostess.
