Moms Night Out by Tricia Goyer

intent on keeping the plates spinning where they had been —maybe where they felt they still should be—that they were missing the “now.” Is this what Sean meant when he said he wanted her to unplug? Did that mean more than just getting away for a bit? Did it mean unhooking yourself from the worries and cares that never seemed to go away? Was that even possible for a mom?
    Even as she’d been here at the restaurant she’d thought about what was happening at home. She’d made up horrible scenarios in her mind. She’d carried anger about death video games . . .
    and she’d even been so focused on creating a special moment that she didn’t realize she was in a madness moment. And from the intensity of her friends’ faces, as they talked and texted, they didn’t realize that either.
    Sondra pointed a finger into the air. “Ah! Zoe! Zoe, listen to me, don’t go anywhere.”
    Izzy gasped. “Uhh . . . Marco forgot the wipes, I mean seriously.” Izzy continued to stare down at her phone. How common of a look that was. Izzy was always texting on her phone. Always walking without looking. Even now she walked along the sidewalk like a zombie, glued to her phone.
    Allyson looked from one woman to another, and she wondered if things had been simpler in the past before women had the ability to connect with everybody at once. Did people enjoy being together more in the past? Because from the way things were now, there really wasn’t such a thing as “together.” Not when everyone else “out there” had the access to butt in at any moment. Not only the access but the accessibility—the welcome.
    Izzy stepped from the sidewalk into the street like a phone zombie. She didn’t see the car coming. Allyson rushed out into the street and she wrapped her arms around her friend. Izzy paused and struggled slightly. She lifted her head and had the same startled, displaced look that Brandon always got when he was woken up for school.
    “What?!”
    A car zoomed by, missing them my inches. The air pushed against them, and Allyson looked to the spot where Izzy would have been if Allyson hadn’t stopped her. Smashed. She pulled Izzy back to a safe place and then grabbed the phone from her hand.
    “I’m saving your life!”
    Izzy looked at her in disbelief. “What?”
    Then Allyson hurried over to Sondra.
    “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to go,” Sondra apologized to them, holding up her phone.
    Allyson could see the worry in Sondra’s eyes. Sondra wanted to be there for Zoe, but Allyson knew Zoe well enough to know she could handle things—everything—herself. How was Zoe ever going to grow up if Sondra ran to her every time she had a small little issue?
    “No, you’re not going to do that!” Allyson grabbed the phone from Sondra’s hand too. And then she started running with both phones. Running as fast as her stilettoed feet would carry her.
    They could be turned away from the restaurant, but she would not allow her friends to be turned into phone zombies. She would not let Sondra go “save” Zoe, when she really didn’t need any saving. If they couldn’t have a nice dinner, at least they could have each other. Friendship was food for the souls. That was written somewhere, Allyson was sure. Or at least if it wasn’t it should be.
    She was saving their lives. She was saving them in ways they didn’t realize. They had to unplug so they could remember what the real world was all about. So they could be a part of it again.
    Her heels clicked against the asphalt as she ran. She didn’t have to look behind her to know that the other two women followed. Their shouts and their own heels clicking on the pavement gave them away. She hurried faster so they wouldn’t catch her. Hurried faster so she could get to her van before they caught up.
    They ran, but as if in slow motion. Allyson tucked her small purse up under her armpit and pulled up Izzy’s phone, reading the text and returning an answer, typing with her