Jenna rushes downstairs where the light from the kitchen is glowing.
“It’s okay.” Blake hollers, holding his phone in one hand and a partial rim of a broken glass in the other.
Jenna takes a calming breath, her son should be in bed sleeping. “No it isn’t.” She walks to the entryway and puts on a pair of flip flops. She grabs a broom and dust pan. When she returns her son, Blake, is leaning against the counter tapping his thumbs on the screen of his phone. “Blake! What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Why?” Jenna says without letting him answer. She continues her questioning before Blake could answer, “What is so damn important that you couldn’t help pick up the big shards of glass while I was gone?”
“I had to tell Laura what happened.”
“You break a glass and you think it’s more important to text your girlfriend rather than clean the mess you made?”
Jenna holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
“No. It’s okay. Just calm down.” Blake tells Jenna.
“How dare you talk to me like that! Give me your phone and go to your room.” Jenna says sternly shocked by his defiance. “Phone. Now!”
Blake is again tapping on his phone. Jenna tries to reach for the phone but the broken shards keep her from moving towards him as he backs away a few steps. With her luck she would cut a toe with a piece of glass. She is fuming, she continues to hold out her hand.
“What are you doing?” Blake says barely giving her a glance.
Jenna pounds out the words. “I’m waiting - for you - to give me – your phone.”
Blake turns off his phone. “Don’t have a cow. I had to let Laura know that I couldn’t’ talk anymore. It would be rude not to to answer her texts.” He slams the phone into her palm. “You taught us to to be polite, didn’t you?”
With her palm stinging she says, “go to bed. Now!” She is so angry and the last thing she wants is to have Blake playing dumb while they clean.
Blake stomps off muttering, “I coulda helped, but no-ooo.”