“It’s taken me a month of being here and a lot of therapy talks, but I’m trying. I’m really trying.” I search her eyes and see a speck of the mom she once was, and that’s all I need to hang onto.
“That’s all I can ask for,” I smile.
I start to speak but hesitate. The therapist who sees my mom said it would help her with the healing process, but I don’t want it to be too much for her.
When Jake stayed with me during my hospital visit, I told him what happened during the accident. He’s the only person I’ve told and shared this special moment with.
“I can tell you have something to say, Lyla. I’m not going to break again. I feel stronger and have the tools I have learned to help process things. My therapist said it’s good to get everything out that we are feeling so it doesn’t snowball inside.”
I take a deep breath and tell her about the wreck and Tim’s death. I leave out the abuse part for now. She knows he treated me badly, but I don’t want to unload too much on her at once or have her feel guilty that I married him for her.
I may never tell her. It’s in my past now, and I’m right where I’m meant to be. If it had happened any other way, I might not have met Jake, so I’m thankful for what I went through because it led me to him.
“When my heart stopped beating…” I stop to gauge her reaction, looking for any sign that it’s too much for her.
“Go on. It’s okay,” she says, rubbing my hand on her lap.
“When my heart stopped beating, I saw Dad,” I say quietly.
“You saw Sean?” Her eyes blink, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. “How…,” she stops her sentence and stares off at the water. I give her a moment, hoping I haven’t upset her. “Did he seem happy?” She says, breaking the silence.
“I saw myself lying on the street and felt no pain. I just felt…love. Then I blink, and Dad is with me in a beautiful garden full of flowers of every shape and color. He looked just as handsome as ever, and I could feel how much love was in that place.” I close my eyes briefly as a wave of it rushes over me, causing me to smile.
“He was happy, Mom. Wherever he is…he is happy.”
She swipes at the tears that have fallen and nods her head.
“He had a message for you.” Her eyes shoot to mine as I blink back the tears. There are real emotions staring at me now, emotions that I’ve longed to see again in her eyes. “He told me to tell you that he wants to see you dance again.”
Her hand shoots up to her mouth as her tears flow freely now. She stands up and walks to the tree overlooking the water. Placing her hand on the trunk, she bows her head and cries. Afraid I went too far, I quickly get up and put my arm around her.
“I’m okay, I promise. It’s just…I just miss him so much,” she whispers.
“I know you do,” I say softly. “I don’t think it ever goes away, but you learn to find comfort in new ways of living.”
“I loved cooking for your father,” she sniffs and wipes her eyes. “He probably married me for my cooking,” she softly laughs. “He would always find me in the kitchen with the music turned up, dancing around as I happily made meals for him and then for our family when you arrived.”
“I remember,” I smile, picturing the three of us dancing and laughing together as she mixed ingredients.
“He always would tell me that no matter what life brings our way, he wanted me to promise him that I would never stop dancing.” She wipes her tears again and smiles. “I had forgotten about that promise until now.”
“It’s never too late to keep that promise.” I hug her close to me as she cries softly in my arms.
“I’m going to dance again, my sweet Lyla Rose. For you…and for him.”
“I would love that more than anything,” I whisper, silently thanking my dad for bringing her back to me.
I getout the ingredients for dinner and set them on the counter. My visit with my mom is still playing in my head.
I ended up staying for another hour with her as she finished her painting. We talked about Jake and how I started my own business in his kitchen. When she asked to meet him again, I promised her I would bring him with me next time.
I see my phone sitting on the counter, and a smile starts to play on my lips as I reach for it. I search through Jake’s playlists that he put on my phone and select the one I want. Musicflows through the connected speakers as I do what I haven’t done in years.
I dance.
Laughing, I twirl around the kitchen and shake my booty to the beat, feeling freer than I’ve ever felt. I put the chicken and vegetables in the oven to roast, stopping mid-twirl to see Jake leaning against the door frame, watching me with a big smile on his face.
“Don’t stop because of me. I was thoroughly enjoying the dance moves,” he grins, pushing off the frame and walking toward me. He pulls me to him and twirls me before bringing me back to his chest.
