The judgement in her tone crushes me. “Of course you are. But you can see that I am safe. That my son is getting the best care. I cannot focus on myself when he needs me.”
She closes her eyes and smooths a hand over her white hair. Such a simple motion. As a teenager, I learned it meant I had won whatever argument we were having. I hope that has not changed.
“We go home tomorrow,” she says, such sadness in her voice. “And I keep thinking… What if I lose you again?”
I throw my arms around her. Ten years, and she smells exactly the same. Like her beloved L’Occitane shea butter with a hint of gardenia. The soft fragrance cuts through the harshness of antiseptic and bleach and lets me breathe again.
“You will not lose me, Maman. You can see how well protected we are. I do not know why Joey and Ford are doing so much for us, but I am grateful for it. For them.”
“As am I,” she whispers.
Drawing back, I offer her a weak smile. “I am not trying to hide from you. Or shut you out. When Mateen is better…” A lump swells in my throat as I glance over at my son. He looks so tiny in the hospital bed. So fragile. “ThenIcan heal.”
Maman cups my cheek. “One of the hardest lessons a mother must learn is how to put her children first, but not lose herself in the process, Lisette. Do not ignore your own needs for too long. Promise me.”
How can I not? This morning, when Nomar told me about Faruk’s death, I let myself feel. And I broke into a million pieces. If he had not been there to hold me, would I have been able to put myself back together again?
Her pale gray eyes hold mine, and I know she is waiting for an answer. All I can do is nod and change the subject. “You and Papa should go back to the apartment for the night. I fear he is buying every stuffed animal the gift shop has.”
She laughs, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. “I suppose we should not spoil Mateen too much until you come home. Otherwise you will need an extra suitcase just for his toys.”
“It will not be long. Three months. Then you can spoil him all the time.”
“I will miss you,ma fille.”Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “If you wanted…we would stay.”
My emotions threaten to drown me. There is a part of me—the daughter who willalwaysneed her mother—that wants her to cancel her flight. But I must figure out who I am in this new reality where I am not a prisoner. And I can only do that on my own.
“No. You and Papa should go. If you stayed, you would have to isolate with us until Mateen’s immune system recovers. Can you imagine all that time in such a small apartment? No sightseeing, no restaurants, no visitors? We will talk on the phone, though. Every day if you want.” I give her hands a gentle squeeze. “Besides, we will need a place to live when we return. You can help Noele find somewhere for us. And decorate Mateen’s room for him.”
“We will do that,mon chérie.”
Maman leans down and brushes a kiss to her grandson’s forehead, then embraces me. “We will see you in the morning before our flight.Sleep well.”
I sink into the chair next to Mateen’s bed and watch him sleep. His cheeks are pale, today’s treatments so very hard on him. We will be all alone for months. In a city I do not know. Adjusting to a life so different from anything my son has ever known.
Ford and Joey are here. And Nomar. The memory of his kiss warms me against the chill in the room. He will be close. Would he be able to see me? To play games with Mateen? He was ready to put on a mask last night. Surely he would do so again? So we could spend time together?
For the first time in ten years, I imagine a future where I am…happy.
* * *
“Talk.”Noele says after walking our parents back to the apartment. “Tell me everything that happened this morning.”
Mateen is sleeping so soundly, he does not wake when the nurse comes in to take his vital signs, and once she is gone, my sister unzips her large bag and withdraws a bottle of Champagne and two plastic glasses.
“Noele!”
“What? We are adults.” She laughs. “Besides, you missed my eighteenth birthday. You owe me a drink.”
A wave of guilt slams into me. “What else did I miss?”
Pain flits across her delicate features for a brief moment. But thepopof the cork chases the darkness away. Such a happy, familiar sound amidst the whirring and beeping of the machines monitoring my son.
“Well, Maman walking in on me and Leonardo the last day of school. Naked. My first truly broken heart. Choosing a university. Moving into an apartment on my own. Receiving my degree.” A single tear balances on her lower lashes. “But that is the past. You are here now.”
I wrap my arms around her, the bottle trapped between us. “I am so sorry,mon petite fleur.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Noele hugs me back, then wriggles free and pours the wine. She holds her glass aloft.“À tasanté.”
