Kendra...

The muffled sounds of sniffles and wails were heard coming from inside Kyle's room. It had been going on for more than fifteen minutes now, and I was starting to wonder if he would run out of tears.

When we returned home from the game, he went straight to his room. I tried to talk to him, get him cleaned up, but he lashed out and slammed the door in my face. Any other day I would be mad and demanded that he open it. But he needed the space, so I left him alone. I stood outside the door, afraid to leave him. Only a minute had passed before I heard the cries.

Tired, defeated cries.

Now I was sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall next to his bedroom door, my own tears running down. It's one thing being told that your child is being bullied and beat up. It's another to actually see him being punched and kicked. It was like I was seventeen again. Clueless and unsure of whether I was doing this motherhood thing right. Were the things my son was going through somehow my doing? If it was, how do I fix it? Could I even fix it?

As much as I hated to think this, I wish his father was here. Maybe he would know what to do. Even if he didn't, at least I wouldn't be alone in all of this.

But he wasn't here, and I had to figure this all out on my own.

I got up off the ground and headed to the living room to get my cell phone. There was only one person I could call to help me with this.

I pulled the phone out of the bag I had tossed on the couch and dialed the number.

"Hey ma," I said once she answered

"Hey, what's wrong?" she could always tell when something was going on

"It's Kyle," I answered, "He got into a fight with those boys again."

A grunt was her only response.

"I just left him next to the car to use the bathroom and when I got back those boys were on him," I said in between sniffles

"Kendra..." my mother said soothingly, trying to calm me down

"I don't know what else to do mom."

"Right now you don't. But you'll figure it out, you always do."

"But what if I don't? What if I do something and it's the wrong thing? I feel like I'm not doing this right and he's going to hate me for it."

A sigh came through the phone. There was silence for a few seconds and then I heard her huff. She must have sat down.

"Remember when you came to me and told me you were pregnant?" She asked

My mind went back to that night. My mother had come into my room to check on me and found me covered up in bed crying. I had skipped school and she wanted to find out why. She came in angry, but her face softened when she saw my state. It took a lot of probing, but I eventually told her I was pregnant. I expected a slap across my face, but instead, she held me and kept repeating that we'd get through it.

"I remember," I answered, "You took it better than I thought you would."

"That's what I wanted you to think."

My brows raised, "You were mad at me?"

"No, I was mad at myself," she answered

"Why?"

"My teenage daughter was pregnant, and all I could think was 'where did I go wrong?' I wracked my brain trying to figure out if there was something I could have done to change it. Maybe if I had spent more time with you than focusing on my career, things would be different. Maybe if I didn't run your father away you wouldn't have daddy issues and turn to boys to get that attention you couldn't get from him."

"First of all, you didn't run dad away, he left. That's on him. Secondly, I made a decision on my own. I was trying to figure myself out and ended up having sex with a guy I had no business being with. That's on me, I don't blame you for anything."

"And that..." she stressed, "is exactly how Kyle feels. He doesn't blame you. He's just trying to figure things out. He should be blaming his good for nothing father! But he's clueless to what happened."

"Mom..."

"Kendra, you know have to tell him what happened."

"He's eleven mom."

"He's smarter than you think Kendra."

"How am I supposed to tell him his father doesn't want him and is giving me hush money to keep him a secret?"

"Just like that."

"Mom!" I said annoyed

"Ok, maybe not like that. But you need to tell him."

"He's going to be devastated, mom. He's going to behave worse than he already is."

"Or maybe he'll finally understand and not act out."

"I don't know if I'm ready to take that chance mom."

"It's not about you being ready, it's about him being ready."

I sighed. She was right. This wasn't about me, it was about Kyle.

"I'm afraid to tell him."

"I know sweetie. But you'll figure it out."

"Maybe you should help me tell him when you come for Thanksgiving?" I asked hopefully. My mother always had a way with words.

"About that..." her tone changed, I could already feel the guilt in her voice. "I won't be able to make it."

"You have to work?"

"Yeah."

Being the daughter of a surgeon, this was something I was used to. It was hard dealing with her being gone a lot, but I knew she was out there saving someone's life. How she did that and raised me on her own, I don't know.

"Kyle's going to be disappointed," I said

"I know. But tell him I'll be there for Christmas with all the presents on his list."

Ever since my son was 2, she would get him everything he wanted for Christmas. As he got older he started writing lists, and she would buy everything on it.

I smiled, "You know, you take this spoiling the grandkids thing to a whole new level."

"I have to make up for his good for nothing grandparents," she said referring to Anthony's parents

"Mom!" I scolded, but I knew she was right. They were the ones that told their son to abandon his child.

The sound of her pager rang through the phone.

"I have to go," she said, "Something came up at the hospital."

"Ok," I said, "We'll talk later?"

"As soon as I get back."

We said our goodbyes and hung up.

The crushing sense of defeat was gone, but my confusion was still there. What exactly was I supposed to do to fix this? Should I leave him to figure this out on his own?

I was headed to Kyle's bedroom when I felt my phone vibrate in my hand.

"How'd the game go? Please tell me they won?"

It was a text from Eli.

"They won!" I texted back

"Awesome! You guys must be celebrating like crazy huh?"

Should I tell him? Should I say we weren't, cause some jerks decided to beat up my son?

I decided not to. He shouldn't be subjected to my problems.

"We are," I typed, "Wish you were..."

I stopped typing. Did I just type that? Why was it so easy to type that? Should I send it? Would I be pushing it?

Again, I decided against it. Now wasn't the time to text that, nor did I have the time to figure out if I should or shouldn't.

I backspace and sent, "We are."

"Well, I'll leave you two to it. Talk later."

With that, I put my phone in my pocket and headed towards Kyle's room.

I wasn't ready to tell him the truth. But the least I could do is try to soothe him.

I noticed the crying had stopped when I got to the door. I opened it and found him asleep. I sighed in relief, at least his mind was at ease for now.

I walked over and got into bed with him, wrapping my arms around his growing body. Instinctively, he buried his head in my neck and brought his body as close as he could to mine. I closed my eyes and held him tighter, taking it all in. I was going to stay in this spot as long as he'd allow.