Authors: Skyla Madi
A few more tears roll down my cheeks. I need to go now. The time has come to separate myself from Seth, but I can’t even though it’s only temporary. I hold on to him with everything that I have. I want to beg him to come with me and I know he would, no questions asked. He’s already proven that he’d give up everything he’s worked so hard to achieve, for me. His breath warms my neck and he presses soft kisses to it as he lowers my feet back to the ground.
“I should go.”
“If you need anything, even a hug, call me.”
“You’d travel to Portland and back just to give me a hug?”
He scoffs at me like it’s obvious. “I’d fly to the moon and back to comfort you when you need it.”
“You’re crazy.” I chuckle, walking away from him.
He rests his hands on top of his head, and tufts of dark armpit hair jut outwards. “So I’ve been told.”
I look over my shoulder one last time as I push through the revolving doors. I drink in his features—the delicious oblique’s and narrow hips. The clear cut of his abs, the hard chest and intricate tattoos I still had no clue about, and lastly, his face—his gorgeous face. His full lips are half smiling, half pouting and his eyes are glued to me, watching me walk away.
I jump straight into Selena’s shiny, silver sports car and she takes us away from the hotel. She doesn’t say much for the first half of the drive. I know she’s hurting too and I don’t push her. Selena adored my father and he adored her—even my mother adored Selena even though Selena swears Mom isn’t a big fan of hers.
“So you want me to take you to your parent’s house?” Selena asks me. Her voice quivers and she swallows hard.
“Yeah, that’s where Mom will be.” I’m dying to get home, but I don’t know how she’ll be when I get there. The death of Seth’s dad sent his Mom off the rails... would that happen to my mom? How would I handle that? The thought makes me cringe. I never really gave Seth props for looking after his mother for so long. It must be painful...seeing someone you love so much not care anymore. I close my eyes.
Dear God, please let my mom be okay. Please give her the strength to get through this.
I’m not one to pray, I don’t think I ever have been, but I’m desperate. I can’t handle my mom going off the tracks.
Not tonight.
***
I take a few deep breaths when we pull up outside my parent’s home. Looking at it hurts. I glance at Selena and she’s staring at it too. “Should I go in and see Sandra?”
I nod despite the feelings telling me to give Mom space. “Yeah, come in and if she’s too upset you can go.”
I look at the house again. I can see the glow of the living room light through the cracks in the curtain. She’s definitely home. When we climb out of the car, I catch my bottom lip between my teeth. Already Portland feels like it has changed. Selena and I walk noisily across the pebbles—even a noise as simple as that screams home. I blow air out of my cheeks. I need to pull myself together. On the other side of that wooden door Mom might need me and I need to be strong for her. I knock on the door, giving her a moment to gather her composure—if she needs to. Surprisingly, the door opens quickly and I’m looking at Mom’s smiling face. She wipes her hands on her rose patterned apron.
“Oh honey, you’re home early. Hi, Selena. Please, come in.” She steps to the side, but Selena and I don’t move. I watch her closely. She hardly seems affected by the death of her husband.
“Mom?”
She tucks a stray curl behind her ear. “Don’t stand out there, come inside. I’ve made pie, are you hungry?”
What the hell is going on? I realize my hands are clenched into balls at my sides. I don’t know whether to be shocked, angry or worried.
“I should go.” Selena mutters, pinching my arm. “Sorry for your loss, Mrs. James.”
Mom’s smile almost falters, but she manages to nod and thank her. Mom pulls me into the house, closing the door behind me. Smells, different delicious smells engulf me and I inhale. Mom disappears into the kitchen and I stand staring after her.
“I’ll set the table.” She calls out. “We can have dinner together.”
I force my legs toward the kitchen, my gaze falling over the photo frames filled with loving family memories. There’s one photo that catches my attention. It’s my dad outside his gym holding the ‘SOLD’ sign. His face is so vibrant, so alive. I unclench my hands and shakily reach out for it. Before I can touch it, I pull my hand back as my chest tightens unbearably and I bite my tongue against a sob. I’ll never see his face again. I’ll never hug him or kiss him... he’s actually gone. I yank my shirt up to wipe my eyes. I need to be strong for Mom, something is definitely wrong here. I step into the kitchen.
“Mom...” I’m looking at the kitchen benches filled with golden pastries and pies of all kinds. Mom pulls a roast chicken from the oven, surrounded by crispy roast vegetables. My hand flies up to cover my mouth. She’s out of control. She’s been cooking none stop—all of my dad’s favorite foods.
“Are you hungry?” She beams at me, but then I see it. Her face is strained, she’s trying really hard not break and I’m not sure if she’s doing it for me, herself or Dad. It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen and I have no idea what to do.
“Mom,” I say again. I hate that it’s the only thing I manage to squeeze out of my mouth.
She looks at me, her bottom lip quivering. She shakes her head and carries the hot tray toward the empty dining table. She manages to burn her finger before she gets there, dropping the roast chicken and vegetables onto the floor. Mom’s hands shoot up to cover her mouth and I reach out for her, but she flinches away, tearing out another piece of my heart.
“I’m okay,” She breathes swallowing her sadness.
“Talk to me.” I tell her. “Please, say something.”
She leans against the bench, pushing two pies onto the floor. They smash on the tiles, sending purple and red colors everywhere, filling the room with a delicious fruit smell. She’s trembling uncontrollably, but she refuses to acknowledge it. “We’ll have to have apple pie for dinner. I hope that’s okay.”
She pulls a knife from the top drawer and cuts at the pie.
“I don’t want pie.” My voice is stern and I don’t want to upset her, but she’s freaking me out.
“Well, what do you want?”
“I want you to talk to me.”
She slams the knife into the sink and I jump slightly. “What do you want me to say, Olivia? I’m trying to move on!”
The hole in my chest deepens. “This is your idea of moving on? Cooking all of Dad’s favorite foods?” She keeps her eyes on the sink. “You don’t have to move on, not yet. He died a few hours ago... a few hours, Mom. You need to grieve, you need to feel...”
She snaps. “You want me to feel? You want me to break?” Mom grabs the apple pie and throws it to the ground. She stomps on it while grabbing a tray of pumpkin pastries. She throws the ceramic serving dish against the cupboard and it smashes. I flinch, unable to hold back my tears. I watch her completely destroy everything in the kitchen, including herself and I can’t do anything.
Food and glass splatter and rebound off my skin while she screams, spitting and crying everywhere. I’ve never seen anything so heartbreaking in my life. She slides down the cupboard, crying so hard her face turns red. Her mouth is open, her eyes closed tightly and lines of spit are falling out. She drags her legs up to her chest and rests her head against them. I step across glass and food just to get to her. I need to hold her, to let her know I’m here for her. I pull her into me and she cries on my shoulder. I’ve never felt so helpless than I do in this moment. I can’t help my mom, I can’t even help myself.
“It’s okay,” I cry, stroking her hair. “We’re going to be okay.”
Technically, I lied. I have no idea if we’ll be okay. I have no idea what tomorrow will be like or if this is ever going to get any easier, but I did now that even though this family has lost an important member, we are still a family and that won’t change. The process is going to be long and painful, but I know we’ll get through it. That’s what families do, isn’t it? They help each other through difficult times?
“I should go to bed.” Mom sobs. “I want to be alone.”
She pulls away from me and climbs unsteadily to her feet.
“Do you want a shower?”
She doesn’t answer me and I follow her to her bedroom, but I don’t get a foot in the door as she closes it in my face. I rest my forehead against the cool wood. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought it’d be...maybe I shouldn’t have come home.
I turn down the hallway and enter my old room. I flick the light on. It’s exactly as I remember it—the white double bed with pink sheets, the white vanity table and big brown bookshelf. It isn’t much, but it’s familiar. I flick the light off, using the light that filters in from the street to guide me. I pull my phone from my pocket, slide out of my pants and pull my shirt off. The cool, clean sheets welcome me as I slide between them. This may be my room, but it smells strongly of this house, which smells like Mom and Dad—I don’t know—I can’t explain the scent. It’s a smell that’s unique to the house. It smells like home. Through blurry eyes I unlock my phone and see that I have a text from Seth.
FROM: SETH. TIME: 12:36 A.M
I miss you...
I call him. I know he needs sleep and I know I spoke to him a few hours ago, but I need to hear his voice. My heart sends a rapid pulse around my body when I hear his husky voice answer. “O?”
“Hey,” I twist lock of my hair around my index finger.
“How’d it go?”
There’s the question I was kind of hoping to avoid. Then again, if that were true I wouldn’t have called him. I can’t tell him. I can’t talk about it yet. Seeing Mom lose control and break down killed me. When I picture it in my mind, my heart breaks all over again. I inhale shakily, unaware that I’ve started crying. Seth doesn’t say anything else, just listens.
“How did you do it?” I ask, my voice shaking. “How did you handle seeing your Mom so broken?”
I hear him expel a breath. “I didn’t. I took off, leaving her to deal with all on her own.”
“But you—”
“I deal with it now, but in the beginning I couldn’t. It was too hard for me. I guess that’s why I feel responsible for her...”
I let his words sink in. Seth blames himself for his mother’s alcohol addiction because he wasn’t there to support her when she needed it. Maybe it is a good idea I came home after all. Would she have kept cooking if I hadn’t? The thought terrifies me.
“How was your mom when you got home?” He asked me.
I cringe, picturing her eerily, happy smile. “I can’t even... You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
I wrack my brain trying to think of a way to describe what happened. It was madness. Chaotic. Heart breaking. “She was happy...and I was so mad, but when I came inside—into the kitchen—it was filled with all of Dad’s favorite foods and...then she completely lost control” I swallow a sob. “I-I can’t...”
“People have different way of coping. If she’s expressing emotion then that’s a good sign.”
I nod even though he can’t see me.
“I miss you already. It’s insane.” He says with a little chuckle. His voice is low like he’s embarrassed and my heart swells.
“I miss you, too. I shouldn’t be keeping you up...”
I can hear the smile on his lips. “This isn’t the first time you’ve kept me up at night alone in my bed.”
His words make my stomach do flips. “And here I was thinking I’m the only weirdo that lies awake at night thinking of you.”
He chuckles. “Definitely not.”
My eyelids become heavy as I snuggle down lower in my bed. “When will I see you again?”
“Tonight. Tomorrow. I told you, if you need me I’ll be there.”
“I mean after you’ve done everything you need to. If it all goes to plan for you, when will I see you again?”
“In ten days. I’m in Boston for two more days and then I go to Vegas to fight Don.”
“Are you nervous?”
He laughs, loudly and I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “No way. I’m going to break him.”
I half chuckle, half yawn. “Good.”
“Are you going to watch?”
I don’t know... am I? There’s nothing forcing me to watch this time, but I know it’d mean a lot to Seth—and Dad—if I do.
“Sure, I’ll watch. I’m not going to enjoy it, but I’ll watch.”
I hear him smile again. “You don’t have to play that game anymore, I know you like watching me fight.”
“Watching you storm around a ring half naked and watching you beat someone with your fists are two completely different things. I like the former not the latter.”
His sleepy laugh makes me smile.
“I should go... I don’t know what to expect tomorrow, but it probably has something to do with funeral plans. I love you.”
“Love you, too and remember if you need me, for anything at all, call me. I’m only two hours away.”
I assure him I’ll call if I need him and we say our goodbyes. As soon as I hang up and get comfortable, I fall asleep, dreading tomorrow.