“No, Mom. I’m not letting them fob you off again. We’re going to have coffee, get you dressed, and then–”
“I already know.”
Her voice immediately halts my ranting. The tension leaves my shoulders, and my fists uncurl from around the handles of the mugs. Relief and hope surge through me from head to toe, and suddenly, my exhaustion is no longer. It’s been replaced by the glowing prospect of normalcy, a future that doesn’t look like pain and strife– just living. Zander, me, and Mom.
“Well…?”
“Come and sit down,” she says. I don’t miss the hitch in her voice as she pats the seat beside her, forcing a smile. That’s when I know that whatever she has to tell me won’t be good news.
We’ve had this thing since I was a kid, at first I thought it was just her way of trying to get me to smile more and worry less, but now I know it to be true–“it’s a secret kind of magic, the type that only the people you love can sense. It’s the happiness behind your eyes– it makes them feel happy too.”
I don’t feel happiness, I don’t feelanything.
I go through the motions of walking across the kitchen and pulling out the chair, my body working on autopilot. I sit and let her take my hands in her own, looking at her without a single thought, only the undeniable knowledge and absolute certaintythat this is going to change everything.
She talks and talks. So much so that I want to scream at her. Force her to say the words I know she’s hesitating to put out into the air. I know why she’s resisting; to speak them would also give them weight. Mom lists the symptoms she’s been experiencing, the tests she’s endured, but falters when she gets to the findings.
“Tell him, Theresa,” Zander crouches between our seats. I don’t know when he came downstairs, but for the first time ever whilst being by his side, I feel the sharp sting of loneliness.
“What do you know that I don’t?” I look between them both. It feels a lot like those dreams where you’re shouting and screaming for someone to hear you, but no noise comes out.
“Theresa, he’ll never be ready.”
“Ready for what? Zander? Mom?” They don’t answer me right away, Zander simply nods, and Mom visibly deflates in her seat with a sigh.
“Honey, what I’m going to tell you is going to be hard to hear. I thought I could wait… for what, I’m not so sure anymore,” she pauses, shaking her head as though she’s disappointed in herself, “You’ve always been so much stronger than I gave you credit for, but in my eyes you will always be the little boy I was put on this earth to protect and love.” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. I can see the sparkle of happiness reflecting the words she speaks, her pride far stronger than whatever it is she has to tell me.
“Mom…?” My words are suffocated by the fear gripping tight. She sniffles and straightens in her seat, giving her head a wobble and clasping my hands in hers with a fierce kind of determination.
“I have ALS. My body is failing me, sweet boy.” Her hand cups my cheek as a single tear spills from both our eyes. She doesn’t move to wipe it away, nor does she fill the silence. We justlook at each other, lingering in the space between acceptance and absolute devastation.
“They’re wrong.”
“Jules…” Zander’s voice comes through, reminding me he’s still here even though I feel totally and utterly alone.
“No, honey. They’re not,” she’s gentle with her words, imploring me to lay my trust with her, if no one else.
“I’ve seen what ALS does to people, what it ta-takes from–”
“I know, baby. I know.”
“Why are you accepting this? Why are you leaving me?” Tears fall freely now, I can’t stop them, just as I can’t stop time now that the pin has been pulled. She’s been holding onto this information like a grenade wrapped in her palm, trying to limit the damage from those around her. But in reality, all she’s succeeded in doing is concealing the devastation and taking away precious moments. Moments I could have enjoyed for longer, moments I could have comforted her through, moments that I should have been there. But she made that choice for me. She chose to keep me at a distance, away from the proximity of the impending explosion.
She wasn’t alone.
The thought is no more of a comfort than his presence right now. It’s just a glaring reminder that I wasn’t strong enough in their eyes. Always the nice guy, always the one who needs saving,always the outsider.
I’m angry at myself, as well as the two people in front of me. I can be enough, but they never gave me the chance.
“Jules, we just wanted to–” Zander starts. I can’t hear it, not right now. His judgment call–along with my Mom’s–is cruelly unfair and completely misplaced.
I realise that my own omissions place me somewhere on the hypocrisy scale, but I feel justified in the choices I’ve made so far, confident that he will thank me, one day. My loyalty and dedication to them doesn’t stop me from leaving the room and flying through the front door. I’m grieving the missed opportunities, yet I’m leaving them behind. I tell myself I’m strong enough, that they were wrong to keep me out of the loop, yet here I am fleeing at the first sign of difficulty. The contrast between my thoughts and actions are a complete contradiction to one another, but I need to be somewhere that isn’t infested with lies and deceit.
Once I reach the local park, I weave my way around the overgrown trees and make my way to the waterline. Usually, it would be peaceful here, with only the sound of the water lapping against the bank and the leaves rustling above. But my presence alone has disrupted the tranquillity the little clearing usually offers. I relieve my legs of the weight of my body and emotions, dropping myself to rest against the rough bark of an old oak tree. It’s sturdy and reliable– exactly what I need right now. I also need the facts, however hard they might be. I reach for my phone and hope it will offer something to cling to, while my mind throws out morbid thoughts, one after the other. I need the dependency of science and data, not the words of two people who have withheld the truth from me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Zander
