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Cynthia Murphy always thought of herself as a well put together woman.
she tried very hard to stay compassionate, even when she was frustrated and hurt. She worked better than most under pressure, and thought of herself as a good mother who cared for her kids.
But she has had it up to here with Connor.
It seems every that weekend she has to buy new hoodies and tee shirts for him, and he provides only an uncomfortable shrug when she faces him with this issue. They were pretty well off with money, so buying the tee shirts wasn't really the problem, the problem was were they were going.
Being the person she was, she could only begin to think of what was happening to the tee shirts and hoodies she bought her son. Of course, the worst possible thing came to the front of her mind when ever she had a moment to think about it, even in the brief seconds she passed his bedroom door in the morning. Was he selling them? If so, what in the heavens was he doing with the money? Buying drugs? The twisting in her gut worsened when she thought of her son so desperate and hooked on drugs that he would go as far as to sell the clothes off his back to get his hands on some. The thought itself was almost enough to get her to confront the boy... Well not yet anyway.
She reached her breaking point two weeks later when the maroon, Appalachian State hoodie she had gotten Connor a few years prior when she took a trip to the collage campus, suddenly disappeared. The hoodie wasn't expensive, per say. But she had bought it for him as a gift and knew he liked the hoodie a lot, despite his complaints that it was too big and bulky for his tastes. She sat in dumbstruck silence, staring at the load of laundry she had just taken out of the washer. She sifted through it shirt by shirt, sock by sock, but there was no trace of the hoodie. She bundled the clothes up, setting them in the washer and turning it on.
She didn't often go into Connor's room, she knew he liked his privacy, so she tried to keep out of it, but she just had to find that hoodie. So, she nudged the door open, taking in the mess that was Connor's room. After spending a few minutes nudging and shifting things around, she walked back out of the room and into the kitchen.
She grabbed her coat off the table and keys from the key-tray and in less than a minute was starting the car, her GPS rattling off directions to Evan Hansen's house.
~.~
She stood on the door step of the quaint little house that belonged to her sons friend. It was small, blue with a white trim, but seemed homely in a sense. The house she lived in looked so much larger in comparison, but she couldn't help but admire the simplicity of the house as she stepped up to the front door, her heels click-clacking against the well-worn wood.
She knocked three times against the white door, waited a minute, and then smiled when the door was opened by another woman. She had long, blond hair pulled back in an elastic band, a baggy grey tee shirt and sweat pants completed the look. The other women smiled back,
"You're Connor's mom, right?"
Cynthia nodded.
"I just need to speak with him about a few things, sorry to bother you Mrs. Hansen"
Mrs. Hansen laughed, a cheerful sound, and extended her hand in greeting.
"Please, just call me Heidi. its nice to finally put a name to a face."
Cynthia smiled.
"Call me Cynthia, then."
The Hansen house was just as simple on the inside as it was on the outside, the smell of popcorn catching Cynthia's attention.
Heidi leaned with her hand on the dining table.
"the boys are watching a movie in the living room, if you'll excuse me I should probably get back to washing dishes before dinner tonight."
With that, the blond women turned away to the kitchen sink, leaving Cynthia to face her son. She held her head up high as she entered the living room, fully intending to embarrass Connor in front of his friend and drag him home. She expected shouting, frustration, and that she would need six cups of coffee to get by in the morning.
However, she was not expecting that.
Connor was siting on the floor in living room, the back of his head resting against the couch and his legs folded in front of him. One hand by his side, and one hand resting in Evan's hair.
The honey-blond teens head was resting in Connor's lap, the tinniest, cutest smile on his face. Both teens were fast asleep, the TV making background noise in the dark living room.
The best part? Evans small form was incased in something large and baggy, covering his tiny frame in a dark maroon color. The hoodie slip far past his fingertips, if he stood it would reach past his hips. Her face flushed a bright pink the longer she watched the two boys.
The anger she felt at her son long gone as, in a moment of realization, she was no longer wondering were Connor's shirts and hoodies had ended up. The thought sending her bright pink face into a flush scarlet.
"They're cute, huh?"
Cynthia jumped in surprise, whipping her head around to look at the blond woman casually leaning against the door frame. She couldn't help but nod, seeing the fierce love in the woman's eyes as she looked at the two boys. She figured if she did anything else, the wrath this women would bring down on her would be worse than the price of all the hoodies she would have to buy Connor in the future.