It’s already too hot out. Probably should’ve waited til evening to weed the flower beds. I use the cleanest part of my forearm to wipe away the sweat before it reaches my eyes. A chime sounds in my pocket. I put down the trowel and pull the phone out. Under this noon sun, I have to squint to make out the notification. 

New Message From: ROBBIE

For a few seconds, I just stare at the words, reading them again and again, then sit down heavily in the dirt. I swipe across the screen and read the message.

Mom its me. u there?

I can’t believe it. With trembling fingers it takes more than one attempt to type a reply. I’m here. This is quite the surprise. Honestly, I didn’t expect to be speaking to you so soon.

Really? Sorry if its a bad time but I need to talk to u

Why is he doing this? A bumblebee arrives to inspect the flowers next to me. I close my eyes and focus on the intermittent buzz as it flits from bloom to bloom. The phone chimes and a new message appears.

Can we talk now?

Ok, honey. I’m just in the garden out back. Give me 2 mins to get inside and cleaned up ok?

K, thx

The phone goes back in my pocket, heavy as a stone. I gather my tools, then stop to snip off a half dozen Asters before retreating to the house. In the kitchen, I rinse my dirty hands then pour a glass of water to drink and another for the flowers, which I place on the table. My tablet is there in its stand where I left it. I sit down, open the message app, and write.

All settled in now. So, how are you? Is anything wrong?

Im ok I guess but kinda need some help mom. Money help.

Sounds like Robbie. Always some new scheme or emergency. His father’s son through and through. I draw a deep breath and exhale slowly, but calm has deserted me. I start typing—After all this time this is how you reintroduce yourself? It’s bad enough you left so suddenly, but now you want to waltz back into my life asking for money? Robbie, you know I always tried my best with you and I can’t believe that—but before I can finish and send, there’s a new message from Robbie.

Sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner. Miss u mom just didnt know what to say. Hope thats ok. Love you.

I delete what I wrote and pause, fingers hovering over the screen. Finally, I type Miss you, too, honey. More than you know.

Thats nice. I mean it. But like i said i need to get some money. Can u help?

I look past the screen to a framed photo of Robbie propped on the window sill, his skinny frame swimming in the graduation robe he’d accented with a few pins and buttons. Punk rock bands, I think. Finally out of high school, even though it took an extra year. His goofy smile, captured for once on film, replacing the scowl he wore with greater frequency as he grew older. That loose, funny kid he used to be was still inside but didn’t come out as much. God, nineteen is such a funny age, or at least it was for Robbie. I only had him, so no siblings to compare to, but still, he just seemed to be more of a puzzle than most kids. 

Yes I can help you. But I need to know what’s going on. Are you ok? How serious is this money trouble? Aren’t you working?

Yes yes I have a job and its good and everything. I made a big sale to a client overseas but the payments wont clear for 90 days so I need some money to keep me going until my big payment comes through. I can pay you back then.

Honey, I have to ask – Is this all legal what you’re doing? Is this job for real?

Yes mom im all ok and have a nice apartment. All good here.

Where is “here”?!?

Florida

Can I come see you?

No not yet. Wait and i’ll get things set up nice for you. 90 days

I take a long drink of water and read it again. Timelines and assurances of reward. He still takes me for a fool. Since he was a little boy, Robbie had a penchant for mischief, and the personal charm to earn forgiveness when the lies crashed in around him. I’m sure he never truly believed his promises, so why did I?

Ok, I’ll bite. How much do you need to survive for 90 days?

$3000. Can you do that?

I want to trust you. I do. But I don’t want this money to go for pills or up your nose or anything like it used to.

No mom no of course not. I dont do that. I’m working hard and its going well. Trust me.

Honey, you hurt me when you left. A lot. You know that?

An ellipsis appears below my message, the three dots pulsing like a heartbeat as he composes a reply that seems to take forever.

It wasn’t on purpose mom. Please understand. Didn’t want to leave I just had to go. 

Understanding has eluded me ever since he left. I’m not sure he could help me see why, even if he wanted to. Aren’t you going to ask me how I’m doing? Do you even care? Or is it the same as always, everything is about you and what you need?

Sorry i should have asked. Everything good? Hows ur garden?

I reach for the flowers and run a finger across the soft pink petals. There’s still dirt under my nails. Robbie helped me weed and plant those beds the first year. Asters were his pick. The glass they’re in bears a faded logo of a waterpark we used to go to, just the two of us. We were a good team then, messy but fun. 

Garden looks good this year. The late bloomers are taking over now. I’m sure you’d have suggestions of how I could make things better, but you would like it. 

Thats good. You work hard on it. I’m happy for you.

Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks and I look to the ceiling to keep them at bay. I’ve missed my boy. Missed him so much. But now I don’t know what to say, unsure where to step in the minefield. 

Do you still wear the necklace I gave you for graduation? The gold one?

Yes mom. Every day.

A lie. The necklace was silver. Besides, he probably pawned it, maybe gave it to a “girlfriend”.

Honey, do you remember what you said to me the last time we spoke?

Kind of. I said I love you.

I laugh out loud and am startled at how it rings around the empty room. His exact words are still in my head, but even now I can’t write them down.

No, you told me I was the reason you hurt so much inside. And do you remember what I said to you that day?

I dont think so. But dont worry about it. It doesnt matter. Really. I just need help now. Please.

I said you had no one to blame but yourself. As I write, I’m tapping the screen too hard. I want to reach through the glass and pull him close to me. And I’m sorry, honey. That wasn’t true and even if it was, I still should have helped you. Maybe I didn’t know how. It was the last time I saw you and I’m so sorry.

No its ok mom. you’re ok. I’m not mad or anything. I just need help right now and everything will be good you’ll see.

It doesn’t matter if I believe him or not. Nothing will change. So you want me to wire you money? To where?

No just an email transfer. Super easy. You know how to use your bank app?

Yes, I’m not that old. Send it to your email address?

no wait a sec. I need to give you my new one its robbieD@gomail.com

I open my banking account, enter the email address he gave me and the amount, then click “Send Money”. A confirmation code appears on the screen and I switch back to our chat.

All done. It says you should receive the cash immediately.

Great! Thanks so much mom.

Love u.

Of course, honey. Anything for you. You know that.

For sure. I have to go now.

You’re not really Robbie, are you?

I wait. The three dots appear again. They disappear, then return. After a full minute, he replies.

No

Do you even know Robbie?

i really have to go now. Sorry bye

You can keep the money! Just be safe and take care of yourself.

i have to go

You’re someone’s son. They want you to be ok. So use the money if you really need it. I assume you won’t contact me again.

I won’t

What I mean is, we can’t talk again, can we?

No reply this time. No dots, no pulse. Only plain, definitive nothing. The final rejection I needed. Real Robbie would never be so courageous, or cruel. He would offer sweet lies, because he knew I’d always be his doormat, his patsy.

I lay the tablet face down on the table and sob until sunlight angles into the room, illuminating the glass of fresh cut flowers. Robbie’s Asters. I’ll bring them to the cemetery tomorrow and replace his old ones.

Robbie was written in response to this prompt: https://reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/drama/write-your-story-as-text-messages-or-an-online-con/