Four #2
Dumbfounded, I’m silent for a minute before clearing my throat. “Your mom passed away?”
“Yeah. Over a decade ago. I miss her every day.”
I don’t think, don’t hesitate. I slide my arm out from under her hand, then intertwine our fingers together, holding her tightly. “Tell me about your mom.”
Looking over, I find Claire smiling wistfully.
“She was beautiful. She seemed to radiate peace. Everyone loved being around her. She absolutely hated math and still sat dutifully with me through every piece of math homework I had throughout all of my schooling. She told me when I graduated high school that she was so relieved I enjoyed math and never asked any questions because she knew she wouldn’t be able to help me with anything.
She was so proud of me for wanting to get a business degree and go into accounting, even though it was something she personally didn’t like. ”
“I think our moms would have liked each other,” I joke. “My mom hated football, but still supported me no matter what.”
Claire laughs. “My mom loved football! My parents had season tickets to the Coyotes. She would have loved you.”
“You said she died over a decade ago?”
She nods. “The winter before you were drafted.”
“May I ask how she died?” I ask quietly.
Claire is silent for a few moments, and I glance over to find her chewing on her bottom lip.
“Pancreatic cancer. It was only three weeks between when she finally got diagnosed and when she died. We hadn’t known she’d been feeling poorly for a few months, and it wasn’t until she threw up blood that my dad finally convinced her to go to the emergency room.
I was finishing up my senior year of college and took a semester off to be with her.
I thought I had more time. I thought with chemo, she’d be able to fight.
My dad was inconsolable, and we struggled so much that year. ”
“Shit,” I whisper. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been.
Don’t get me wrong: I hate that I didn’t get to say goodbye to my mom.
I’d do anything to have one more chance to tell her that I love her and to tell her how she made my life so amazing.
But the thought of watching her wither away for weeks or months makes me sick to my stomach.
“I’m so sorry, Claire. I can’t imagine — I hate you went through that. ”
Claire is silent as we continue westward.
We sit in comfortable silence, even though my hand actually twitches as I fight the urge to take her hand in mine.
I feel an odd kinship with Claire that I’m not sure I’ve felt with anyone before.
Her mom died only a few years after mine.
What are the chances that we’d meet now?
It makes me wonder if we were friends back then.
“There are times I wish she’d gone quicker,” Claire says quietly.
“I wasn’t prepared to watch her die. In some ways, the minutes dragged by, slowly watching pain take her away.
But, looking back, I feel like those three weeks I had with her went by in the blink of an eye.
I try not to think about the things I wish I’d said or things I did to remember her.
Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve, you know?
It doesn’t help anything now. Do I wish I had recordings of her voice?
Yes. But I won’t let myself drift back into memories of that time.
I won’t allow myself to feel any kind of regret because I know how much she loved me, and she knew how much I loved her. That’s really all that matters.”
“I think you’re more mature than I am, Sunshine,” I say with a chuckle. “Because I have regrets. I was an eighteen-year-old dumbass who made shitty decisions and took it out on my parents. I could have been so many things instead of a cocky asshole. But you know the one thing I regret the most?”
“What?”
I clear my throat, aware that emotions are in danger of making an appearance.
“I wish I’d told her I loved her that morning.
We had this routine where she’d kiss the top of my head, tell me to have a good day at school, and tell me she loved me.
That morning, I was in a shitty mood. My coach had threatened to bench me that week due to a failing grade in English.
I feel like it’s important I mention I’m not stupid, I was failing because of a girl —”
Claire interrupts me. “I’m shocked. Gobsmacked. You? Girl crazy? No.”
I laugh lightly. “I know, it’s the surprise of the century.
But when my mom went to kiss my head, I rolled my eyes and told her I was too old for that anymore.
I saw the hurt in her eyes. I knew it was ridiculous and childish, but I didn’t apologize.
I stomped out without answering her after she told me she loved me. ”
I grip the steering wheel tightly, willing my tears to stay in my eyes. It’s like I’m back in that moment. I can hear her voice, smell the perfume she’d worn for as long as I could remember. Feel her hugging me each morning as I grew taller, until the top of her head barely reached my shoulder.
“Maddox, pull over,” Claire whispers, placing a hand on top of mine.
I don’t question it. A tear slips down my cheek as I drive onto the shoulder.
Claire taps the button to turn on my hazards, then grabs the gear shift to put the car into park.
Shifting to face me, she takes both of my hands in hers.
Her touch is gentle, warm, and comforting.
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “She knew you loved her. You didn’t have to say the words. ”
“But I should have,” I rasp, another tear escaping. Claire lets go of one hand to reach up and swipe the tear away.
“Moms know. No matter what we say, they know our real feelings. My mom was my person. She knew what I was thinking before I did half the time. I could say one thing, and she’d tell me how I really felt.
They’re our comfort zones. We can let out our worst selves, admit our deepest and darkest thoughts, because there’s nothing like a mom’s unconditional love.
She knew how much you loved her, Maddox. ”
It’s like the air has been sucked out of the car. Claire took the words right out of my mouth. I know all of this. My mom was my person. She was the best person I’ve ever known.
But as I’m looking at this beautiful woman across from me, I’m taken aback at how much I wish Claire could have met my mom. I bet they’d have been immediate friends. I can easily imagine the inside jokes they would have, brunch and pedicure dates, and cheering me on from the fifty-yard line.
That thought is the last thing on my mind before I reach up, cup my hand around the back of Claire’s neck, and pull. Meeting her halfway over the center console, I kiss the hell out of her.
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