Mia mumbled words against my lips, "Never again."
"I promise," I told her. She could have told me to open the door and step off the flight and I’d have done it, because an addict would do anything to get the next fix.
For the rest of the flight, I held her on my lap, unwilling to have even the smallest distance between us. There was a fear that had taken root, that if the distance between us grew, then one day she would no longer be in my life. That wasn’t a reality I was ready to face and refused to accept.
Once we landed the three of us took the car back towards the house.
"I need to go sort something out when we get home," I told Mia. "We'll talk properly later."
Mia nodded but looked uncertain. Lifting her hand to my mouth, I kissed the back of it. In the rearview mirror, I caught Dante miming throwing up and rolled my eyes.
"Lucas!" Lydia called as we walked into the house, bags in hand. "I've been trying to call you."
"Sorry, Lydia," I said. "My phone died. Is everything okay?"
A man appeared next to Lydia looking tired and disheveled. He had more stubble across his jaw than when I last saw him but other than that he hadn’t changed at all in the months he had been away.
"Stefan, you're back early. " I said before turning back to Mia. "We shouldn't be long."
Mia looked from me to Stefan and back before she nodded. "I'll be here."
She grabbed her bag and took it upstairs.
"No introduction?" Stefan asked me, watching her go.
"Stef," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm not in the mood."
"It's basic manners, Lucas," Stefan replied curtly.
"Her name's Mia," I relented.
"Mia," Stefan rolled the name on his tongue. "What's her surname?"
"Griffin," I answered him. "Why?"
I could see Stefan mulling over the answer and the nervous energy that I had felt before we boarded the flight filled me again. "Stef, I assume you're here for Mom, so rather than standing here we should go. Unless you’ll make your own way there."
Stefan gave Lydia a kiss on the cheek before he followed Dante and me out of the house. All three of us climbed into the car before we set out for the hospital.
"I thought you weren't planning to come back until the end of the semester," I remarked. We’d kept the line of communication open long enough for Stefan to inform me that he would be moving home permanently during Christmas break.
"I transferred out early," Stefan told me. "Mom's been calling me and keeping me up to date."
I clenched my jaw. Of course, our mother would want to keep Saint Stefan directly in the loop. We sat through the rest of the journey in uncomfortable silence.
We took the elevator to the seventh floor of the hospital and made our way to the room at the end of the hall.
"My boys!" Mom sat up in her bed, tremor more pronounced than usual as she greeted the three of us, Dante included in the greeting. I hung back as Stefan sat on the edge of the bed and scooped her into a hug.
When our Mom had first been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, not long before Dad left us, it had hit hard. The doctors told us that she had probably had the symptoms long before her diagnosis, and Stefan had always taken it personally that he hadn’t caught it sooner. The hospital had become a regular part of her life now, and although there were times Mom seemed to cope fine, it was never long before things took a turn for the worse.
Dante sat in a chair by the bed and listened to Stef as he told Mom about college, but all I could see was how tired and frail she looked after the tumble at the residential home.
"I knew my baby wouldn't let me down," Mom said. "Always working hard to find a way to make me better." She placed a shaky kiss on Stef's forehead.
"I've transferred here, Mom," Stefan told her with a smile. "I'll be able to see you often now."
"Stefan," Mom started, frowning at him.
