“Mom, are you sure you don’t want some real food?” I pull her blankets up, covering the feeding tube that’s attached to her stomach.
She stares at the ceiling, the lights low in her room. She’s so thin now. I take her bony hand in mine. She’s like a bird, hollow and light.
“Dad didn’t come this time. I’m sorry. He only dropped me off and said he had errands to run.” I scoot my chair closer and take her hand again. “I think he doesn’t want to see you like this. He knows … He knows you’re close to …” I can’t say it. Even though this has been coming for years, I still can’t seem to accept it. For my father, it’ll be a relief. He’s said as much. I’ll be his last burden, and he’ll be rid of me soon enough once I go to college.
“I’m thinking about Northwestern. I know it’s not your favorite, but if I can keep my grades up, I should be able to get at least a partial scholarship. If they don’t offer anything, I’ll stay closer to home. But don’t worry, I’ll still come by and see you. I’m not going to run off to college and forget about you or anything.”Not the way you’ve run off to whatever is going on in your head and left me here alone.I try to tamp down my resentment. It’s not fair to her. I know that. She’d be here with me if she could. At least that’s what I tell myself. I have to believe she wouldn’t pick this life over one where we’re together and happy.
“We got a new neighbor. It’s a guy living in the Robertson’s pool house. He cuts the grass and cleans the pool and all that. I think Dad’s going to pay him to do ours too. I told him I could do it, but he thinks I’d break something.” I sigh. “He’s probably right.”
Silence. The TV in the common down the hall is particularly loud today. Apparently, some people named Ross and Rachel were ‘on a break’, which cues canned laughter from a TV audience. I almost prefer the cinderblock wall.
“Um, what else is new?” I try to think of something interesting to tell her, something that will magically snap her out of her catatonia and bring her back to me. Sometimes when I think about her, I pretend there’s some magic combination of words that will open the lock and set her free. All I have to do is figure it out. I never have, though. Whatever the key is, I’ve yet to find it. “One day, Mom. One day I’m going to nail it.”
That wasn’t the correct combination, because she’s still gone. Maybe next time.
I just watch her breathing. I have a fear, one I try not to think about too much, that one day I’ll be sitting here with her, and she’ll just stop. Her chest will go still, and she’ll be staring at the wall or the ceiling. Her heart will fall silent. And nothing will be the same. She won’t be here anymore.
“Are you here right now, though?” I squeeze her hand, but not too tight. She’s brittle, her bones ravaged by whatever is going on in her mind. No exercise and not enough nutrients have left her withered away. She’s in her early forties, but she doesn’t look it. One of the newer nurses thought she was my grandmother the last time I came to visit.
I get up and grab the little sponge in the cup by her bedside, then use it to wet her lips. “I’ll bring you some Burt’s Bees next time. I love that stuff.” I wander to the window and stare out at the cloudy day. No one’s out on the grounds at the shuffleboard court or playing basketball. The rain earlier in the morning curtailed all of that, though now that I think about it, I’ve never seenanyoneplaying shuffleboard. Maybe it’s a lost art.
“He asks me about you.”
I whirl so fast I bang my elbow on the window. “Mom?” I hurry to her side and take her hand. “You’re awake.”
“Always asking about you. This and that. Obsessed.” She smiles, her lips cracking. “I told him to find out for himself.”
“What? Who?”
She meets my eyes, hers watery and dim. “Moira?”
“Yes.” I lean closer to her. “It’s me, Mom. Hi!” I can’t stop my eyes from watering.
“It’s you.” She reaches for me, her hand cool against my face. “My darling.” Her hand falls away, and she turns her head toward the wall.
“Mom?”
I run around to her other side. “Mom?”
She stares at the cinderblocks, her eyes vacant.
“Mom?” I pat her cheek. “Mom, come back.”
Her chest rises and falls. Her heart continues beating while mine crumbles and lands in jagged shards at my feet.
ChapterNine
“You have to warm up.” Hook sits me on the table in his cabin. “You’re soaked through.” He goes to one of the hidden cupboards in the wall and pulls out a small bottle and a piece of cloth. “Take off your clothes so I can—”
“No.” I flinch back and wrap my arms around myself.
He sighs, his back expanding and then lowering. “I’m not going to hurt you, lass.” When he turns to me, his gaze goes right to my mouth, and then he wets the small square of white cloth with the liquid from the bottle.
“This’ll help.” He walks to me and dabs the stuff along my lip. It stings a little, but I suppose that must mean it’s working. His thumb drifts to my cheek. Ire kindles in his eyes, fire in an endless pool. “That fucking bastard.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not.” He runs a hand through his wet hair and slings the water towards the windows. “I should’ve come up to check on you. He never would’ve gotten his hands on you if I’d stuck close by.”
