But nevertheless I must keep my head held high.
I need to see the positives.
He'll be released come Monday once Vipers MC posts the bail.
And even if The FBI keep the charges I don't see him being convicted.
They need a confession.
One of which they'll never get.
All of us can only hope they don't find more incriminating evidence that a confession won't be necessary.
The sound of my phone goes off again.
My heart quickens with anticipation as I wonder if Oak has somehow managed to gain himself another phone call.
Hoping he has I answer the phone without even looking at the caller ID. "Oak-"
"Gracie Mae Vale," I hear my name from the familiar monotonous woman from Hollows Point Memorial Hospital. My breath catches in my throat. "Your mother has woken up. And she's requesting you."
Gracie Mae
When I was a child, it was easy loving my mom.
It was easy to get lost in her dazzling smiles. It was easy to join in on her infectious laughter. Laughing so hard it would hurt your stomach and make your eyes tear up. It was easy to hear her voice. How gentle and kind it was. I found myself on multiple occasions trying to sound just like her but I could never quite capture her grace. It was easy being held in her arms. Knowing that with every touch and embrace I had someone who loved me irrevocably. Someone who I could always turn to.
When I was a child it was easy being her daughter.
And I often find myself wishing it could be that easy again.
I find myself always holding onto hope that the mother I easily loved will one day return.
I would blame my own heart, for wearing it so naively on my sleeve. But I think it wouldn’t have mattered. Because deep down I know that a part of me, no matter how small and buried it may be, a part of me will always love my mother.
“You came,” she says with a hint of surprise. Her voice sounds rough, like sandpaper.
Connor wanted to be in the room with me but I talked him into waiting outside of the room with Alice and Snake.
I slowly nod my head, biting down on my lower lip. “You asked for me.” I give her an answer that sounds as if I didn’t have a choice.
But she’s still my mother. And she still knows me, despite it all. She stares hard, eyes narrowing and finding the truth. Sighing heavily she says, “You would’ve come anyways, sweetie.” My heart flares at the nickname my mom and dad used to call me when I was a kid. I haven’t heard it since he died.
Tears burn at the back of my eyes as I swallow. “Don’t,” I warn her, my voice choked.
However, she doesn’t heed my warning. There’s a hint of a smile on her face. Eyes filled with longing. “You remember why you got that nickname?” My heart pounds against the cavity of my ribs. I fear it may break free and burst from my chest. “Your dad picked up on how sweet you were to everyone. Didn’t matter who, didn’t matter why, you were just that, sweet. Ever since the moment you were born. So, instead of introducing you by name first he would always say-”
“This is my sweetie, Gracie Mae,” I finish for her hoarsely.
She nods her head, the faintest smile still on her lips. “He loved you so much. He loved being a father. The moment I told him I was pregnant he broke down in tears of happiness. Honestly, I think he was happier than me.” She laughs softly at that. “Your dad was always meant to be a dad. And when he held you for the first time. . .” She pauses, lost in the memory. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier. That was until he held your brother. He was just as happy then, too.”
“You never talked about him after he died.” I can’t help the hurt that laces my tone.
She grimaces. “I couldn’t.”
Thirteen years since his death and neither one of us has had the chance to grieve. She chose drugs to cope and I was forced to become an adult at eleven.
“You weren’t the only one who lost him. You weren’t the only one in pain. I was, too. I was in pain and I couldn’t even share the loss of him with you.” Tears betray me as the few escape.
