“What happened between you two?” Lorelai asks. Lucy, who’s been texting away on her phone for the past thirty minutes, clicks it off and joins us. I hadn’t told them much before getting on the plane, just that I had once again royally screwed over my own life and happiness. I tell my best friends through my tears of the comment I made, how he reacted, and all the other things. I let them know that I finally told Braxton about that night in college, and that he had accepted me and wasn’t disgusted by me.
“And that’s how I repay him,” I scoff. “By bringing up his mama in such an awful manner in the heat of my anger.”
“I’m sure he understands,” Lucy says. “Braxton isn’t the kind of guy to blame you for that.” She’s right. Maybe he would take me back and forgive me. But that’s what makes it all the worse.
Braxton Rawls is too good for me. Even as a friend.
Light as a feather, Mama’s finger touches the outside of my hand resting beside hers.
“Call the nurse!” I stand up, hovering over Mama for more signs of consciousness. Slower than honey dripping from a spoon, Mama opens her eyes.
Before I can say a word to her, the nurses arrive and take over, shoving me (and the chair I was sitting in) out of the way. I bring my chair to the back of the room and sit while Lucy and Lorelai stand on either side of me. Both of my friends have a hand on my shoulder from their respective sides, gluing me down to the chair.
I watch the chaos ensue as the nurses check vitals, ask her how she’s feeling, write things down. A policeman stepping into the doorway captures my attention from the fluttering around Mama. Right behind him, Brandi Kelly appears. I try to stand up to go see her, but the women at my side continue to hold me down.
“Guys, it’s Brandi,” I state. They follow my gaze and let me up.
I step outside, side-eying the officer as I do. I’m still having mixed feelings about the law enforcement in this town for letting Mama get her hands on something that almost killed her while in prison.
Once outside, I crumble into the arms of a shocked Brandi. It’s not that we don’t like each other. We’ve always been friends, but it’s rare I confide in her or melt down in front of her like this.
“Shh, it’s okay,” she says, sounding eerily like Braxton when he comforts me. Her hand even finds its way to the back of my head where she presses it against my scalp.
A tender show of love that her brother often shows me.
I pull away after a moment, wiping my eyes. I’m sure the makeup from the wedding is either gone by now or I look like the Joker from Batman. Funny how thoughts about how I looked never crossed my mind from the moment I went through TSA and watched Braxton walk away from me.
“Listen, I’m going to do everything I can to investigate how that inmate was able to smuggle in whatever drug that was and how your mom was able to get her hands on it,” Brandi says. “I’ve got my paralegal working on it already.”
“Thank you,” is all I manage to say through my sniffles. It’s nine in the morning and I’m exhausted from the lack of sleep and traveling through the night. Don’t even get me started on the emotional whirlwind of the past couple of days. “Where’s…did Braxton make it home?”
“About an hour ago,” she says with a soft expression.
“Good. Maybe he can get some sleep.” The words sound as convincing as they feel. I don’t want him to get any sleep. I want him to show up here, despite everything. That’s what he usually does. But then again, kissing a man and declaring your love to him changes the typical designated friend status…
“Miss Dawson?” One of the nurses motions me to come inside. I slide past the policeman again and rush to Mama’s side. Her blue eyes, so similar to my own, fill with tears when she sees me. Hot tears trail down my own cheeks.
“Mama?”
“Hadley Bear,” she says, using the nickname she’s always called me when she was clean and in her right mind. Mama is a petite, curvy woman, much like me, but her features look sharp in comparison to her sunken cheeks. Guilt racks my consciousness once again for not bailing her out before I left.
“I’m so sorry, Mama. I should have got you out of that place.”
She closes her eyes and sighs.
“Can someone uncuff her hand, please?” I turn and glare at the policeman. He makes no motion toward me. “Please,” I nearly beg. He must take pity on me because he does as I ask. Not both hands, but the one closest to me.
I take her hand between mine.
“What happened to your hand?” Mama asks.
“I sprained it while skiing,” I laugh, recalling the memory. “I bet Braxton I couldfallbetter than he could.” Mama tries to laugh, but it’s a dry, throaty sound that turns into coughs.
“Where is he?” she asks. My heart constricts in my chest, taking my breath with it.
“He’s home now.” I can’t tell her of our brief relationship. Nor can I bear to tell her that she probably won’t see much of him around anymore. Mama and I don’t spend a lot of time together as it is, so she doesn’t see Braxton often. But when he is around, it’s like Mama is a new person.
Braxton always treats her with respect, love and kindness. Not like the town’s outcast.
