Sometimes, Fine is Just Fine

I’d asked, “How are you?”

His response was, “Fine.”

Well, “How was School?”

“Okay, I guess,” he answered.

I kept trying to get a dialogue going, “What did you eat today?”

“Food.”

Exasperated, I said, "I’ll see you when I get home."

“I probably won’t be here, talk to you later,” he offered.

I probed further, “Where will you be?”

“Out.”

“Please take the garbage out and be home by dinner time,” I insisted and hung up.

Moving forward eight years.

The phone rang in the middle of the night. The ID caller registered a phone number in Afghanistan. I picked up the phone and breathed into the receiver, “Hi honey, are you okay?”

“Fine, Mom,” he answered.

It was all I wanted to hear.

[WC: 125]