Concierge duties

 It’s 6 am in the kitchen, I pour coffee 

when from the dark the thin boy appears

and thrusts his iPhone under my nose.

Look! I just threw up!

I see the photo, a green blob floating in the toilet.

For a better look, my head leans in 

& the little redhead’s voice 

chirps from the bowels of his phone 

where she now seems to live:

You ok, babe?

The boy’s brown orbs grab mine.

You understand, right?

I can’t go to school?

Believe him or not believe him? 

I don’t know anymore.

Two years ago he wouldn’t tell a lie even 

when I demanded one:

Tell your uncle you enjoyed his visit! 

Say it!

The shrink tells me, 

You can’t change him.

So make childhood a safe time.

Resigned, I nod.

I’ll get you a covid test.

My coffee turns cold as I record VM's for the school, 

his counselor, his shrink.

Next I google, Buy a rapid test near me,

write a list: apple juice, clear soup, tylenol.

My friend texts, See you at the trail. 

Wait! I text back. 

Running late: Concierge duties.