Istood just inside the gas station convenience store. I shifted my weight and glass crunched beneath my boots. One of the other responding officers used his leg like a hockey stick to clear the main aisle of a handful of Doritos bags. A woman had backed into the display, knocking it over when the man in front of her started yelling at the clerk, demanding money and claiming to have a gun.

“I got this, Moutsos,” the officer said. “Will you see if the witness statements are done?” I nodded and went outside. Two teenagers sat on the curb with clipboards on their laps. The Hispanic teenager looked bored, so I approached him first. “Hey, Miguel, you okay? “Yeah, I’m all right.” “Are you finished with your witness statement?” He handed me the clipboard and attached witness statement, which detailed the robbery from his perspective.

“Got mine, too,” the other teenager said, a blonde kid with eyebrows like caterpillars and a habit of chewing on his lower lip.  “Thanks, guys,” I said. “You need a ride home, or want to call your parents to get you?” Miguel patted his skateboard. “Naw, we live just up the street. Five minutes and we’re home.” “You sure?” I said. “It’s getting dark.” “Yeah, we’re sure,” Miguel said. He punched his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon,man. Night’s almost wasted.”

I scanned their witness statements, nodded to them, and said, “Thanks for your help. Let the sergeant over there know you’re ready to go.” A woman began to sob, the third witness, the one who’d knocked over the Doritos display. She leaned against the convenience store wall, shuddering, hugging herself and squeezing her eyelids shut. I ducked back inside, grabbed a few napkins, then returned to the woman.“Here,” I said. The woman snatched the napkins, wiped her cheeks, and said, “I just wanted some snacks for our movie night.” “I know,” I said–she’d mentioned that multiple times. “What’s happening to this world? I can’t even get gummy worms without…without…”

The sobbing overtook her. I patted her shoulder and tried to soothe her.
The Channel 4 and Fox13 news vans had arrived and were setting up.
My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I slid it out just enough to see that the number belonged to my mother. I ignored it. I’d call her back when I had a minute. “Ma’am,” I said. “Did you finish your statement?” She nodded, blew her nose, then stooped and grabbed her clipboard and statement. “Did you get ahold of your husband?” I said, and took the clipboard.“Yes, but I told him I’d drive home. I’ll be fine to drive home. I will.” My phone buzzed again. I glanced at the number. My mom. Maybe it was urgent.

I turned to the woman and said, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.” I wandered a few paces away, tucked the witness statements beneath an arm, and answered my phone. “Mom, can I call you back?” “I just need to know where you are.”“What?” “Eric, where are you?” “Mom, I’m working. Now isn’t a good time.” “Well, just tell me where you are.” “Mom, I–” “Honey, where are you?” I sighed and gave her my location. “Oh, okay. Love you, Eric.” “Love you, Mom.”

I shook my head, pocketed my phone, and went back to work. A few minutes later, while speaking to my sergeant, I noticed an older, white Buick creeping up alongside the gas station. The car turned and headed towards the crime scene. The slow speed and the fact that the headlights were off immediately caught my attention. I tensed, put a hand on my gun, thinking, It’s the robber coming back. It’s a set up. It’s…

“Moutsos?” my sergeant said. “Are you listening? I…Hey. What the heck is that?” From the front passenger seat, tiny lights flickered. Were those…?
I squeezed my eyes shut. “No, no, no,” I muttered. “What, Moutsos?” my sergeant said. I opened one eye. Yep. The lady sitting on the passenger seat was none other than my mom. She held a cake. A birthday cake. My birthday cake. Singing erupted from inside the car, muffled at first, then louder as the windows rolled down. “Happy birthday to you,” my mom and dad sang. “Happy birthday to you…”

I groaned. I wanted to shrink to the size of an ant and sneak away. Instead, I rushed to the Buick, determined to stop this insanity before any other officers noticed what was going on. I bent towards my mom and, in a tight, low voice said, “Mom. No. Are you serious right now? This place just got robbed.” Mom grinned and tried to hand me the cake through the window.
I recoiled as if the flickering candles were lit sticks of TNT.

“No,” I said. “Go.” Mom scowled, huffed, then said, “Fine. You just seemed kind of down the last time we saw you, so we wanted to surprise you. Cheer you up.” “I’m surprised,” I said. “I’m super cheered. You’re very nice, but I’m working. You have to go.” “Hey, son,” Dad said, grinning, “we get you at a bad time?” I grimaced and made shooing motions.

Mom reached out and patted my forearm. “At least kiss your mother goodbye.” She puckered her lips and leaned towards me. I danced from one foot to the other, but they just waited, smiling at me. I ducked down and gave her a quick kiss. “Go,” I said. “Happy birthday, son,” my dad said, then put the car in reverse and drifted back.

Mom’s wave goodbye was a wiggling of fingers out the window. “We’ll save you some cake for after work.” I shook my head, exhaled a long, pent-up breath, turned, and found seven officers laughing at me and my birthday surprise. A giggle slipped past my mouth. Someone broke the silence with, “Dude, Moutsos, was that your mom?” Several officers erupted with laughter as I just stood there with my mouth open. “Happy birthday dear Moutsos,” someone else said in a singsong voice.“Happy birthday to you.”

I noticed the lieutenant’s dour expression. I thought, I’m dead. He’s going to write me up for this. The lieutenant’s attention shifted. “Sergeant,” he said, “a word please.”“Back to work,” our sergeant said, and strode to the lieutenant. I glanced at the looks on my coworkers’ faces and knew I would never live this down. I sighed and thought, That cake better be good.