Integration

Prologue

August 15, 2004

Dexter,

It's been quite some time since your father and I have heard from you. We've tried several times to reach you on your home phone but you never seem to be there. We don't know your cell phone number and we couldn't find it in the phone book so we figured you had it privatized to keep the telemarketers at bay, which I certainly don't blame you for. I'm not very good with computers or e-mail so I figured that good old fashioned postage mail is the only thing that seems to reach you successfully. It's better than talking to an answering machine.

I hope your boss isn't overworking you sweetie, you're too young to be so stressed. You ought to let yourself take time to relax and enjoy life instead of having your face glued to a computer screen 24/7. It's not healthy.

It's just that Doug and I worry about you. After you graduated from High School you were in such a hurry to leave for college. Don't get me wrong, it pleases me to know that you're so eager to learn and excel yourself but at the same time, it felt as though you'd disappeared as though you never existed at all. Nevertheless, I didn't write this letter to criticize you because I know how much you hate that though you know I do it out of love.

Some of your old high school friends still ask about you, you know. Just the other day I crossed paths with Freddie Benson at the grocery store, you know, that sweet boy from the chess club? I'm sure you remember him. Anyway, I recognized him while shopping for produce and just had to go and say hello. He's doing well for himself; he's married and has a baby on the way! He gave me his number and address just in case you wanted to reach him later on. I've left it written on a 3 x 5 card in the envelope with this letter. You should give him a ring sometime, I'm sure he'd be happy to hear from you.

Freddie asked about you and I told him what I knew, which wasn't much, I'm afraid. You're so private with your life, dear; it's hard to tell what you're doing with yourself and when I do get you on the phone its like pulling teeth to get you to stay on the line for longer than five minutes. We miss you terribly. I call Duncan quite often to check on him and even he's beginning to wonder about you and you know how he is about losing track of time with his, whatever it is he does these days. Contrary to popular belief, he does miss you; he just has a hard time expressing himself.

You do realize that I've been trying to get you to come home to visit for ages now but you've never taken me up on the offer. That's one thing you and your brother do share in common. The fact that the both of you are so wrapped up in your lives that you forget about the more important things like family. I believe it's about time I broke my silence and say that it's a fine time that the two of you come home? I've never asked for much from either of you and I wanted the four of us to be together again, just like old times. I'm sure you've accrued some vacation time with all the hard work you've done.

Oh, I can hardly believe that come the first of September it'll have been 27 years! It seems like it was only yesterday when I brought my darling baby boy home from the hospital, all six pounds and seven ounces of you. You were so tiny and precious. I wanted to hold you forever!

Your upcoming birthday is just the excuse I need to get you away from the hustle and bustle of the city. A breath of fresh suburban air should do you some good! So, I'm asking you, from the bottom of my heart for you to humor this old woman and spend a few days with me. It's been nine years since I've had the pleasure of spoiling you and I'm not about to let another year go by in your absence.

Please, Dexter. Come home.

Love,
Mom