“Yuck,” Maple gagged. “You my friend?”
Her friend.The last time Tyler tried to explain that she was her mother, Maple flipped out and ended up having a mini stroke. She was hospitalized for two weeks, and when she was released, Maple didn’t want anything to do with Tyler. Whenever she came around, Maple refused to look at her, let alone spend time with her. As devastating as it was, Tyler learned her lesson and only referred to herself as Maple’s friend, nothing more.
“Your best friend,” Tyler promised, sticking her pinky out.
With a goofy grin on her face, Maple mimicked the move, locking her pinky with Tyler’s.
“Now tell me, what movie won’t work?”
“The orange tape,” Maple pouted. “They said I watched it too many times.”
“Ok, I’ll see what I can do about that.”
“Really?”
“Yep!” Tyler smiled.
For hours, the mother-daughter duo talked about all the new songs onGracie’s Corner, laughed at SpongeBob and Patrick's dumb adventures, made friendship bracelets, and feasted on chicken nuggets and popcorn. Maple allowed Tyler to comb her hair but made her promise not to touch the dent on the side of her head with no hair. She called it aboo booand said it hurt when people made loud noises. Tyler promised Maple that she’d bring her some noise-canceling headphones and she nearly jumped for joy.
The conversation about her bed incident forced Maple to cover her face in embarrassment. She acted as if Tyler hadn’t helped her change clothes on more occasions than she could count. As if before the accident, Tyler hadn’t cleaned up her vomit after she passed out. Knowing that Maple wouldn’t remember, Tyler told her that accidents happened and suggested she stop drinking after seven. Like a child, the suggestion made Maple roll her eyes and sigh loudly. She loved sneaking midnight sips of juice, so stopping at seven wasn’t an option.
“Did you know I can sing?” Maple asked, pushing a piece of popcorn across the table.
“You can?” Tyler feigned surprise as if she’d never heard her sing, as if her voice wasn’t a staple in her mind, as if the same voice hadn’t been passed down to her.
“Uh-huh. I mostly sing the songs onGracie’s Corner‘cause they my favorite, but-” she looked around as if she was sneaking. “But I like grown-up songs too. My nurse listens to them when she think I’m sleep.”
“Which song?”
“Um, I don’t know the name and I forgot the words, but I can hum it a little.” Her eyes lit up.
“Ok, let’s hear it.” Tyler sat up.
Instantly, Maple started hummingHe’s Mine.Tyler smiled. She took note of her lax shoulders and the smile on her lips. Maple was happy and even her hums sounded beautiful. Even in her childlike state, she was singing about another woman’s man.
“He’s mine, you might’ve had him once, but I got him all the time,”Tyler sang the words Maple searched for.
“You can sing!” Her eyes bucked.
“A little.”
“Do it again, sing with me,” Maple pleaded, and for a quick minute, Tyler’s heart skipped a beat. This version of her mother didn’t know her from a can of paint, but somewhere deep down, Tyler wanted to believe that Maple’s subconscious knew exactly who she was. It was probably the only thing that kept her sane. She prayed that one day Maple would snap out of it and hug her. A hug that she desperately needed. A hug that only a mother could give.
“Ain’t this bout a blimp. You don’t wanna sing to me, but you in here singing about being a side chick,” Mr. Rogers rolled to the door talking smack. “And here I was thinking you were one of the good ones.” He wheeled away, shaking his head.
Tyler left the nursing home feeling heavier than when she went in. The moment she slid into her front seat, she wasreaching for the mint can in her purse. Without thought, Tyler popped two pills in her mouth and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Not even two seconds later, her phone was ringing.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Damn, where you at? I’m at the studio,” Dexter’s voice blurted through the speaker.
“I was visiting my mom.”
“And that took all morning? I told you I had shit to do.”
Closing her eyes, Tyler counted down from five before she replied. Dexter didn’t bother asking her how the visit went, and she didn’t expect him to. He never asked, and she never said anything about it.
“I’m on my way.”
