32. Rook
Chapter thirty-two
Rook
“No bike today?” Othelia asks as I walk to the edge of the sidewalk and hail a cab that’s passing by. As the cab pulls across traffic towards us, I step back, reaching for her hand, which she eagerly slips into mine.
“You almost sound disappointed,” I say with my eyebrow cocked. We both know she loved that ride far more than she wants to admit.
“I just think a cab doesn’t mesh well with your bad boy image.”
I pull her close to me. “There are very few people I actually give a fuck about what they think of me. Plus, I only have one bike and it’s currently in my garage in Chicago.” The cab pulls to a stop in front of us and I reach forwards and hold the door open for her. As she moves to step in, I halt her in the doorway, whispering in her ear, “Don’t worry, Rockstar, I’ll take you for another ride soon.”
I chuckle and I can see her body shivering even through the massive coat she has on to shield her from the cold.
Sliding in, she moves to the other side or the seat, making room for me to jump in next to her. “7125 Fauntleroy Way,” I say to the driver, who gives me a nod before we pull back out into traffic.
“So, where are you taking me?” She angles her body towards me, eyes bright with excitement. I hope my next words don’t disappoint her.
Suddenly feeling nervous, I run my hand through my hair as I look out the window and watch the Seattle streets go by. “I uh… I thought maybe you’d like to come with me to visit my mom?”
She doesn’t respond, and my stomach churns, realizing this was a stupid idea. Who the hell takes someone to meet their disabled mom after only a few weeks?
Fuck, I don’t know. This just feels different. Last night on the roof was the first time I’ve told anyone I didn’t have to about what happened with my mom. It was the first time I’ve ever wanted to open up to someone about her. I protect her with all that I have and letting anyone know details about her always seemed like an unnecessary risk, but letting Tilly in after last week didn’t just feel like the right thing to do. It felt… inevitable.
I tense, trying to think of a way to take back my offer, maybe laugh it off as a joke when she leans over and places her hand on my cheek, directing my face to turn towards hers. Her eyes are soft and a small smile plays on her lips.
“I would love to come with you.” She slides her hand back down and clasps mine, wiggling closer so our sides touch.
The drive to my mom’s new home isn’t far from our hotel. This is the fifth facility I’ve had to move her to over the last eight years. Each time I get her comfortable somewhere, he pops up and ruins it all and neither of us feels safe with her there anymore.
Thank God my contract allows me to provide her with top level care. If I could, I’d pay for her to live in my house with a nurse around the clock to look after her but money only stretches so far, even for a professional athlete. She’s comfortable and well looked after and until I’m back in Seattle, that’s the best I can offer.
The three-story red brick building looks more like a manor house than an assisted living facility. White columns surround the front door and the well-manicured gardens make it look grand and welcoming.
When I brought Mom here a few weeks ago, the management assured us that the garden would overflow with flowers come spring, something I know she will love.
Tilly thanks the driver as I pass him some cash. Sliding out first, I help her onto the sidewalk. As we approach the path, she halts, anxiously glancing upwards at the massive structure before us.
“What’s wrong?” I run my fingers across her face, tipping her chin so she’ll look at me instead of the building behind me. The way the morning sun glints off her hair gives her an ethereal glow, but the way she bites her lip and picks at the sleeve of her coat has me worried.
“Are you sure she’ll want to meet me?” Relief floods me. She’s nervous about meeting my mom. Hell, I’m nervous for her to meet my mom, but not for the same reasons.
This is a part of my life I’ve not let anyone into, and she’s about to be the first. Each day is so different. I can’t guarantee what my mom might say, but I’m sure she’ll see how special Tilly is.
“I don’t know,” I say, not wanting to promise her anything, and she frowns at my response. “The way she responds to things, especially new things, can be hit and miss. I promise I won’t leave your side. She can just get easily overwhelmed.”
Her brow furrows as she thinks. “If you don’t want to do this, I can take you back to the hotel and come back.”
“No,” she cuts in, “no, I don’t want you to think I don’t want to do this, that’s not what this is. I’m just nervous. I want her to like me but I understand this might be difficult for her and that this is all new and I’m trying really hard to make a good impre—” I lean in and kiss her, silencing her nervous ramblings as she melts into my arms.
“You have nothing to worry about. The fact you already care so much is more than enough. Come, I’ve promised her pastries and she’ll have my head if I don’t take her to get some.”
She giggles and wraps her arm around my biceps, holding me close as we make our way towards the entry.
I tap on her bedroom door and cautiously enter, discovering my mother absorbed in a book while reclining. Her long hair is now more white than the golden of my childhood, but she still looks as beautiful as ever.
Despite her age, her face remains youthful and without many wrinkles, making it hard to believe she is well into her fifties. Yet, beneath the surface, she carries scars that go beyond skin deep.
She drops her book and her eyes light up as she sees me in the doorway. With a cry of "Min elskling!" she tosses her book onto the bed and hurries towards me from her recliner. I feel my whole body relax as she embraces me. It’s a good day.
I keep one hand in Tilly’s but wrap my other firmly around her, gripping her in a tight hug. Days where she is so cheerful are rare, and I wish I lived here in hopes I could have more of these days with her.
She releases me and holds both sides of my face as she clicks her tongue, moving my face from side to side, taking in the stubble I should’ve shaved this morning and the bags under my eyes which have only seemed to darken in the past week.
“You need to look after yourself better. And what is this?” She pulls on the hairs on my chin and Tilly lets out a small giggle next to me.
My mother pushes me to the side to get a better look at Tilly, her eyes scanning up and down. “And who is this?” Her eyes move back to me before dropping to our entwined hands. They shoot back up to mine, wide with surprise.
“Mom, this is Othelia.” As she takes in Othelia, she leans close and gently pushes her hair back, completely ignoring my presence. Suddenly, her face lights up with the warmest smile I haven’t seen in ages.
Leaning close to me, she whispers conspiratorially, “Vakker”— beautiful —giving me a wink.
“I agree.” I gently nudge her arm as I rub my thumb over the back of Tilly’s hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms Wills.”
My mother laughs and opens her arms, embracing her in a tight hug. “It’s Wiland, but Rook didn’t think the name would be cool enough for hockey. Please, call me Brina.” That’s not the reason. I wanted something to separate me from the asshole that shares my last name, but I’m glad she’s teasing me. I playfully roll my eyes, loving that Tilly is seeing this side of her.
“OK, I think that’s quite enough mocking for one day. I promised you pastries and a trip to the water, so should we go?”
“Oh, but min elskling, I have so much more I could tell.” She laughs but leaves us to grab her things, piling them into a small handbag. “Ah but Othelia, you see, pastries wait for no one.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Tilly laughs as my mother takes her hand, pulling her away from me and into the corridor.
I stand back, closing her bedroom door, watching them link arms and chatter as they make their way down the corridor, not caring about leaving me behind. I shake my head, smiling to myself as I follow them out.
We spent the last hour getting a mix of pastries from one of my mother’s favorite bakeries before making the trip back down to Lincoln Park. The taxi leaves us near the park’s edge and together we make our way down to sit at a table overlooking the water and the expanse of driftwood settled along the beach.
The morning slipped away as Tilly and my mother delved deep into conversation, sharing stories about Tilly’s life and her newfound responsibility of assisting Rian with Layla. Even bringing up Sloane, which I was surprised.
“Come now, min elsking. Even though she may be gone, she will never really leave you.” My mother holds Tilly in her arms as together they look out at the waves.
Tilly’s hand reaches out, warm and comforting, to intertwine with mine. I don’t know why I was worried. Tilly is a beacon, drawing people into her warm light, and my mother is no exception.
My mother is so excited when the subject of music comes around and that opens up an entire conversation about Elvis and the old love songs she adores so much. Even singing a few so Tilly can recognize what she’s talking about. When her memory faults, Tilly makes no fuss and just carries on the conversation like nothing happened. I haven’t seen so much life in my mother for so long. I guess Tilly has a way of bringing that out of the both of us.
Next to us, men begin carrying chairs out, setting them up in rows overlooking the water.
“What do you think they’re doing?” my mother asks, wrapping her coat tighter around her, the air becoming slightly cooler the longer we stay.
“I’m not sure, maybe setting up for a wedding or something.” Her face softens, her eyes glistening as she watches. “Mom, do you want to go? We probably need to get out of their way.”
“Not yet. Can we watch them for a while?” I would normally be back at the hotel having my pregame nap by now, but there’s no way I would pass up the opportunity to spend more time with her when she’s so lucid.
“Of course.” Pulling Tilly closer, I wrap my arms around her as we watch the bridal party set up. The placement of arches and rugs form a beautiful aisle. The chairs adorned with white sheer material, casting a soft, romantic glow and small metal buckets awaited flowers on the edge of each aisle chair.
“I bet her dress will be beautiful,” Tilly comments next to me.
My mother hums her agreement. “I hope it warms up or she will feel the chill coming off of the water.”
“Are you cold, Brina? Please take my scarf.” Tilly circles the table, leaving me on the opposite side, to sit next to my mother, wrapping her fluffy knitted scarf loosely around her neck.
“Tusen Takk, Othelia.” She holds Othelia’s hands as she continues to watch the set up around us.
Othelia looks to me confused by what my mother has just said to her and I mouth thank you , which earns me a smile and a nod before she too turns and looks out at the water.
I discreetly pull out my phone and capture a photo of their profiles bathed in the warm sunlight.
I’m smiling down at the photo when I hear my mother gasp. I look up to see her eyes wide with fear, confusion on Tilly’s as she tries to ask her what’s wrong.
My mother shakes, her eyes dart around scanning the area just like she did when I was a child. In an instant, she stands, her eyes darting around in search of me. When I finally reach out to her, she clings to me tightly, as if afraid to let go.
“Rook,” fear laces her voice as she trembles in my arms. “He’s here. He found us. We need to go. It isn’t safe. He could hurt you.”
"Mom.” I look around, searching for what could’ve triggered her, but coming up short. “Mom, he isn’t here. You are safe. I am here.”
“No, Rook, he will kill you. We need to go. I can’t lose you.” She shakes so violently I can almost hear her teeth chattering as I grip her to me tightly.
Looking over at Tilly, she looks lost and confused. I mouth, I’m sorry . Her brows furrow as she shakes her head before she gathers our things on the table.
My mother sobs in my arms, her breaths quickening and growing shallower as panic takes hold. I catch movement in my periphery, white bouquets carried by groomsmen and placed along the aisle. White bouquets of lilies.
“I can’t move her when she’s like this,” I whisper to Tilly as she looks around, obviously racking her brain for something she can do to help. “Mom, it’s okay, they’re just flowers for the wedding we were watching set up. He hasn’t found us.”
She shakes her head, gripping chunks of hair as she sobs.
Then she screams in pain. In fear. I have no idea. The wedding party pauses their setup to look over at us. She shoves me away and looks at me with so much disdain.
“You can’t have him, John. It isn’t his fault I left you. He’s just a boy.”
“Mom,” I cry out, not knowing what to do. She’s confused me with him before, but never like this. Usually she thinks I’m him from the good times before he got violent. I’ve never seen such intense hatred in her eyes before, and it leaves me paralyzed.
“I won’t tell you where he is. He is making something of himself. You can’t hurt him anymore.” Tears run down my cheeks as she punches me in the chest, her hands trembling as they make contact. “You can’t hurt me!” she screams and I stumble back like I’ve been shot, collapsing onto the bench with my head in my hands as she continues to scream.
“When you’re weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all.” Othelia reaches for my mother’s shaking hand as she continues to sing, slowly turning her away from the wedding party and me.
My mother stills as she listens, tears still streaming down her face. As they reach the chorus, my mother’s voice joins in, softly harmonizing with the music as they finish “Bridge Over Troubled Water”; one of her favorite songs.
Tilly doesn’t waste a minute before moving on to “Always On My Mind”, and the tension in my mother’s body relaxes. Lost in the song, she squeezes Tilly’s hands tightly, her eyes shut tight. As I observe from across the table, Tilly’s singing enchants me, slowly mending the broken pieces of my soul.
When she sings the last line, she waits patiently for my mother to open her eyes. “Brina?” She waits to gauge her reaction before continuing, but when my mother smiles warmly, she proceeds, “Are you ready to go home?”
My mother takes one last look out onto the water before taking in a deep breath and looking back at her. Soft pale eyes soften as she pushes Tilly’s windswept hair away from her face. “Ja, skatten min.”
My eyes widen at the sentiment, but I give Tilly a small nod, letting her know she agrees. I wait for them to stand before moving, worried seeing me might upset her.
I would happily get a second cab to meet them back at her home, if it kept her from fearing me again, from looking at me like I’m him. But when she turns, her face lights up at the sight of me and she calls for me, “Come, min elskling. Take me home.”
I take my mom’s hand, ducking to brush a quick kiss on Tilly’s cheek. My mind spins but I glance at Tilly. Her worried gaze meets mine as she walks beside us, mouthing, are you okay?
I nod, holding my other hand out for her. Our hands intertwine effortlessly, erasing any worries from her face as she leans on my arm, and an unfamiliar feeling ignites within my chest.
Tilly gives my mother a long hug goodbye after we get her settled back at the facility, promising to come and see her again. My mother gives her a look filled with affection but says nothing else. Tiredness settles across her face as I step closer.
“You should sleep, Mom. Those pastries must have worn you out.” I smile, even though my heart isn’t really in it.
She gently taps me on the cheek before scolding me. “You didn’t bring me any pastries. You must have eaten them all yourself.” She looks around me to see Tilly standing near the door, arms wrapped around herself. “And who is she to you?” she whispers, eyes narrowing as she peaks over my shoulder to ensure Tilly can’t hear.
I look back at the woman that continues to blow me away, with her patience and kindness, her acceptance of people around her. She is my siren and I will sacrifice every part of myself to stay within her grasp.
I speak in broken Norwegian but knowing my mother will understand anyway, “Mor, jeg har blitt forelsket.”
She leans in, pulling my face down to rest my forehead against hers. With her hand against my heart, she whispers. “Jeg visste at du ville slippe noen inn en dag, s?nnen min.” She gives me a kiss on the forehead just like she used to when I was a child. I swallow to hold back the tears that threaten to spill out.
“Goodbye, Mamma.” I give her one last kiss on the cheek before walking to Tilly at the doorway, taking her hand, looking back one more time at the woman that raised me before I leave with the woman that will be my future.