Chapter 37 Heath #2
Mom nods and I notice there’s a glimmer in her eyes. “So, the reason why I asked you two to come downstairs is — ”
Hope stiffens beside me.
I shoot my mother a look to not continue. But of course she does.
“—of the position I found you guys in.”
I close my eyes, knowing an embarrassing conversation is heading my way.
“I certainly didn’t hope to see you like this,” she mutters, but since it’s quiet in the room, we hear her perfectly.
“We weren’t doing anything!” Rose blurts out.
Mom arches an eyebrow at her. “It didn’t look like that.”
“I was just admiring Heath because he has a nice body — ” she cups her mouth, eyes wide in panic.
My lips twitch in amusement.
Mom looks like she’s about to burst out laughing. “Well, I’m glad you think my son is fit.”
Hope turns all sorts of red.
Mom snickers. “So you’re saying I have nothing to worry about?”
Hope shakes her head. “No.”
A long moment passes before she says, “Have you guys had sex?”
You can hear a hairpin drop with how silent the room is. Tension hangs in the air and it's suffocating to breathe.
Sex.
My mother is talking about sex.
For fuck’s sake.
All I want to do is escape this conversation but Hope is glued to her seat with her cheeks flushed and hands held together in her lap.
“No,” she tells her.
Mom looks at me. “We’ve never talked about this, but I need to know—”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It is,” she says softly. “I’m looking out for you. At this age, kids catch all sorts of diseases because of sex. And I don't want you to — ”
I groan, feeling awkward as fuck. “Please stop talking.”
“— get sick because I didn’t step in.”
“You don’t need to step in. I’m fine. No sex is happening in my life.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not lying to me, right? It’s not something that you should lie about.”
I glare at her. “I’m telling you the truth. No sex.”
Mom watches me for a minute before letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I’m too young to become a grandmother.”
I roll my eyes at her dramatics.
“Can we leave now?” I ask.
She shakes her head, and faces Hope. “I’ve already had this conversation with you, dear. I hope you remember what I said.”
Hope nods shakily while I stare at her in confusion.
My mom has talked to her about sex. When?
“You both are too young for this. Wait a couple of years and don’t forget to use protection. If you’re too shy I can go and buy — ”
“No need. We’ll buy it ourselves when we have sex,” I grit out.
“Which won't happen now,” Rose adds.
I look at her, and she looks all red and fidgety.
Leaning down, I whisper in her ear. “Are you okay?”
She glances at me and gives me a nod shyly.
“There’s something else too.” Mom declares in a curt tone which is so unlike her. “There are a few rules that I need you to follow whenever Hope is here.”
“Rules?” I huff out a laugh.
She nods.
“Why bother when you won’t be staying?” I argue.
A flash of pain crosses her face and she grips the island for support.
Guilt shimmers in the pit of my stomach, but I discard it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she says.
“Yeah sure.” I roll my eyes.
Her expressions turn sad. “I mean it. I’m staying.”
We stare at each other and for the first time I realize that maybe she’s telling the truth.
“I want to spend more time with you. I want to know you. I want to be there for you.” She takes a deep breath, grounding herself. “I want to repair our relationship.”
“What’s broken doesn’t get mended.”
She nods. “I know, but I want to try anyway. Love mends all that’s broken.”
I shoot daggers at her for annoying me, but fear shifts in my heart and the click sound echoes in my ears.
Despite the fact, that I don’t want to believe her. I do anyway.
“You’re expecting too much,” I grumble.
She smiles softly, but doesn’t say a word.
Getting off the stool, I pour myself a glass of water and chug it down.
I walk to Hope’s side and lean against the counter near her.
Without my mother noticing, I slide my hand onto Hope’s lap, gently untangle her clasped hands, and take one in mine.
I softly trace circles on the back of her hand, hoping to calm her racing thoughts and distract her from the worry consuming her.
Just then, Mom says, “I have two simple rules. Always keep the door open and don’t do whatever it was that you were doing today.”
“Whatever.” I think about her rules and agree anyway. Because we both know I won’t be following them.
She starts working on the soup while Hope and I watch her in silence.
Ten minutes later, I notice Hope’s shoulders shivering a little.
She quickly wraps her arms around herself, but her thin maroon sweater does very little to provide her heat.
Without a word, I leave the room to grab her my jacket.
When I come back I find a smile on her face, as she stares at my mother who’s now standing near and speaking in a hushed tone.
Mom notices when I step closer to them and I hear her say, “I’ll show them to you.”
“Show her what?” I grumble as I slip my jacket onto my girl.
Hope turns to me with a grin. “Your childhood pictures.”
I look at Mom in confusion. “We don’t have them.”
She shakes her head. “We do. I have so many photo albums and videos.”
I frown. “That’s not possible.”
“It is. I’ve kept them safe with me for years.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Mom smirks. “I brought those along with me. Do you want to see them?”
I nod, because I’m curious. I thought my childhood wasn’t recorded but looks like Derek and Kelly made sure that wasn’t the case. And my mom has kept all those memories safe.
The urge to know why she’s done that begins to eat me again.
I want to know why she wasn’t there for me througbout my childhood. Why she wasn’t the one who took the pictures and recorded those videos.
I want to know everything.
Mom serves us soup and joins us.
Hope and I both sit on edge as we eat, but Mom seems like she’s right at home with us.
“Do you guys like it?” she asks with a hint of worry in her voice.
“Yes, it’s delicious,” Hope says quickly.
Mom smiles at her then glances at me in question.
“It’s fine,” I mutter. The soup is fucking good but I won’t tell her.
“There’s plenty. You can take more if you want,” she offers.
I hum in response and she just smiles.
___________________
It’s late at night when I close the door to my bedroom.
Rose is sleeping peacefully on my bed, curled up in my hoodie and on my side of the bed, after tossing and turning for an hour.
She couldn’t settle down so I tucked her in my arms and whispered assuring words to her that helped her calm down.
I know she doesn’t want to stay here. She wants to go home — the last place I want her to be.
I lean against the wall and run a hand through my hair.
She had a great time with my mother earlier when they were going through the photo albums that contained my entire childhood.
Mom wasn’t lying. She had the albums and videos.
I stood near the sofa where they were sitting and watched them — not the photos.
Because the question why she has them kept bothering me.
I rush down the stairs into the living room to see if the albums are on the table, only to find my mother still there. She glances up at me and her hand freezes from where it is flipping through the album.
She watches me for a quiet moment then speaks quietly “You’re up.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I walk deeper into the room.
“Me neither,” she says.
For some reason, I sit next to her and she notices. She spares me a quick look before turning back to the album in her lap. We both pretend it isn’t a big fucking deal when it is.
“Dad will be worried knowing you aren’t sleeping.” Over the past month I’ve closely watched the bond between my parents. They both love each other, but dad does a little more.
“That’s why I didn’t pick up his call. It’s better if he thinks I’m asleep than knowing I’m sitting alone and flipping through my children’s photo album.”
“You aren’t alone,” I mutter.
She pauses and looks at me. Her face softens. “I’m not, now that you’re here.”
Discomfort pricks my skin, making me clear my throat and look away from her.
“Love only loves you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think.
“Is that really what you think?”
I nod.
“That’s not true. He loves you.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t need to assure me with a lie. I can handle the truth.”
Mom sets the photo album aside on her lap and reaches for another one. This one is old and worn, its front cover creased and the edges slightly torn as if it’s been opened and closed a million times.
Without a word, she flips it open. The first photograph shows a pregnancy test with two red lines; beneath it is a picture of my parents smiling at each other. My eyes move to the second page, where my dad is kneeling in front of my mom, kissing her stomach.
Page by page, she shows me a short reel of her pregnancy—each moment capturing how elated my father was, always smiling, always leaning down to kiss her belly.
Finally, we reach the part where they’re in the hospital.
My mom is holding me in her arms, and my dad is kissing my forehead.
There’s another photo where his fingers are gently brushing through my hair, and he’s looking at me like I’m his entire world.
That look in his eyes is raw and captured candidly.
There’s nothing fake or pretense about it.
“He has loved you even before you came into this world,” Mom says in a lovingly tone.
Something heavy sticks to my throat, making it hard to swallow those words.
“He was so happy when he found out that he was going to be a dad. And when he heard your heart beat for the first time he squeezed my hand so hard while staring at the screen.” She laughs a little.
“He was always kissing my stomach or rubbing it to make sure you were okay inside. He may not say it, but he loves you so much.”
“Then why did he abandon me?” I mumble, my voice sounding broken.
She studies me closely. “We didn’t abandon you.”
A spark of anger lights up. “You sent me here while you were living in another country. What do you call that?”
Pain flickers across her face. “It’s complicated.”
My eyebrows dip. “What’s complicated?”
She breaks the eye contact. “Please know we didn’t do it because we don’t love you. It was something else.”
“I want to know it.” I push the matter.
Mom stands up abruptly. “It’s late. We should go to bed.”
“For fuck’s sake. How long are you going to hide this truth from me?!” I blurt. “For years I’ve wondered why my parents left me. I thought maybe I did something wrong and you guys didn’t want me — ”
“That’s not the truth!” Mom cries out. Her blue eyes filled with deep sorrows and locked secrets.
“Then, what is the fucking truth?”
She opens her mouth, and my chest tightens, thinking she’s finally going to give me the answer. But then, she closes it and turns her back on me. “All you need to know is, we did it to protect you.”
Air fills my lungs and I feel like I’d burst at any moment.
We did it to protect you.
Protect me from what?
Instead of having an answer, she’s left me with an even bigger question.
I’ve heard this same answer twice in a day from two different parents.
What does it mean?
Mom leaves the room in a hurry while I stand there in the pile of my memories that she’s kept like her most prized possession. I know if I pick up any other album aside from the one she showed me, I wouldn’t find any more pictures of us. It’d just me or Emery.
My hands curl into fists.
I want to know what happened.
And I will find it out.