Open Heart One Shots (Choices)

Forevermore

He closed his eyes as his mother started to sing, the familiar lullaby slowly putting him to sleep, the monsters and bad dreams forgotten.

----------

Ethan was eleven years old when he saw his father cry for the first time. And all because he'd loved with all his heart only to be betrayed by the one person who had promised to be there, through good times and bad.

It was a perfect Saturday afternoon and he'd been playing basketball with his best friend, Tommy and some of the boys in the neighborhood when his mom called him over to tell him she was heading to the grocery store.

She was wearing the yellow dress she often wore on weekends. When he got close enough, she hugged him tightly and told him how much she loved him before kissing his forehead.

Embarrassed because he knew his friends were watching ─ he could already hear Tommy making gagging sounds ─ Ethan pulled away.

"Mom!" he wiped his forehead, giving her an aggrieved look as he thought of how his friends would roast him.

But she only laughed, tousling his hair before getting in the car and backing out of the driveway slowly. He waved back as his mom smiled at him before driving away towards the stop sign at the end of street.

"Hey, Ramsey," called out Tommy. "You ready to play or do you need Mommy to hold your hand?"

"Asshole," said Ethan without heat, shoving his friend and laughing when Tommy pushed back. "Are you ready to play or you want to yank my chain some more?"

Several hours later, sweaty and dirty from the roughhousing they'd done after the game, Ethan walked into the kitchen and wondered when his mom would be back with groceries.

Opening the fridge, he rooted around for something to eat, taking out the last of the bologna, cheese and pickles he found in the nearly empty shelves.

Half an hour later, he'd devoured three sandwiches and finished two cans of Coke. He quickly got rid of the evidence before his mom got home as he was only allowed one can a week and he'd already reached the limit yesterday.

He had just returned from disposing of the offending cans in Mrs. Giraldi's trashcan when his dad's car pulled into the driveway.

"Hi, Son. How was your day?"

"It was alright," said Ethan, folding his arms across his chest. It was something he'd seen the cool kids do and had wanted to try it ever since.

"Played some hoops with the gang. I got three slam dunks," he finished, puffing up with pride, nonchalance forgotten in his excitement.

"That's wonderful! With how tall you are already you could be playing in the NBA in a few years."

"Nah," said Ethan as he walked inside the house ahead of his father. "I'm gonna be a detective and solve crimes like the guys on Law & Order."

"Well, you've certainly got the curiosity and tenacity down pat." His father smiled at him, putting away his jacket before heading to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. "Where's your mom?"

"Out," Ethan jumped onto the kitchen counter wondering if he could persuade his dad to grill some steak. "She went to the grocery store a few hours ago."

"A few hours ago?" asked his father, a frown on his face as he dried his hands on a kitchen towel.

Later, he watched helplessly as his dad called around to friends and neighbors for any clue as to where his wife could be; tears slowly trickling down a face lined with worry as the hour grew late.