Chapter Fifty-Five
Cade
I ’ve been on edge since we entered my mother’s quarters. The Christmas tree with its multicolored lights, and the aroma of roast turkey, pumpkin pie, and yams, should fill me with joy, but it doesn’t. Will she eat the food? Will Rykes eye her fork, midair and give a disapproving shake of his head? I don’t think I have it in me to stop myself from jamming the fork down his throat. I’m already stretched too thin, the reserves of my patients depleted. I’m so close to the end that I can’t taste the ash on my tongue. I always thought it would taste like victory, but it’s bitter and choking, the flavor of doubt.
I shouldn’t be here. Not with a satchel of emotions I’ve never navigated. This dinner is a loaded gun, and my finger is already on the trigger. One wrong move and I don’t know what I’ll do. The only thing keeping me from bolting is Sky, her hand small and warm in my icy grip. And yet, she’s the reason we’re here in the first place.
I want to be upset with her, but I can’t. I can’t even feign irritation with her. I’m too tired, too easily undone by the look in her eye. She’s so hopeful, so encouraging. She just wants me to be happy. It’s not her fault my mother cornered us in the library.
The headmistress knew exactly what she was doing, hinting at a Christmas dinner. I had been successfully avoiding every holiday with her and Rykes by shutting her out. But she knew she could use Sky as a point of entry. And Sky, so eager to please, so proper and optimistic, told her we would come.
I focus my weary anger on my mother as we take a seat. The table is laid out with dried pine cones, fake berries, and green cloth napkins. It’s nice. My mother always makes things nice.
I groan at the sentimental thought and run a hand down my face. I’m not thinking clearly. Sky rubs my thigh under the table, trying to soothe me, and I take a deep breath. I just need to get through this. Where the fuck is Rykes so we can start?
I crane my neck at the hallway behind my mother. The small but luxurious lodging would be considered a shotgun home, with every room behind the other, in a straight line. We came in through the front where the main living area lies and then passed through a small hallway into the dining room. Further beyond is the kitchen and bedrooms. Is he back there, taking his sweet fucking time?
“Where’s Rykes?” I grab a napkin and drop it onto my lap.
“Hm?” My mother fidgets with her silverware.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. We’re back to this beat around the bush avoidance shit. Well, not on my time.
“Your controlling piece of shit boyfriend. Where is he? Cause I’m starving.” I lie. I’m not hungry in the slightest. Even though the idea of pumpkin pie with my mother’s brown sugar whipped cream makes my salivary glands water.
“Cade,” Sky hisses under her breath.
I told her about Rykes. She knows he’s a piece of shit. But she can’t let go of her manners. It’s okay, my lack of can make up for both of us. I ignore her scolding and look at my mother.
“Well?” I ask.
“He…” She looks out the window at the piling snow. “He won’t be joining us.”
She grabs a napkin and forces a smile. She’s stilted in the way she moves, hesitant, like she’s walking on eggshells.
“Why?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer. If he did something to her, I’m going to flip the table.
“Asparagus, sweetheart?” She holds out a dish to Sky, avoiding the question.
“ Why won’t he be joining us?” I can’t tell if my tone is more agitated or suspicious.
I should be relieved that I don’t have to sit through a meal with him, but it doesn’t make sense. He lords over everything my mother does. Especially meals. All I ever wanted up until Sophomore year was a dinner with my mother, just the two of us, but I could never get so lucky.
She gives a dainty shrug, like it’s all no big deal. “I told him not to come.”
“You told him not to come?” I repeat it more for my benefit than hers, stunned out of original words.
“How about some yams?” she asks Sky, ignoring me.
An hour later, I can barely keep my eyes open. Between getting seconds, two servings of pie, and half the rolls, a coma is likely. Habit would have me inching towards the door, desperate to leave before my mother excuses herself to the bathroom. But Sky insisted on helping her clean up, and I gather a few plates myself, following them into the kitchen.
I’m waiting for it as I rinse a plate. It’s inevitable and she likely can’t wait any longer. We lingered at the table for too long. The food is probably digesting by now. And she ate a lot of it. Almost as much as me. But it’s just a show. A compulsion she does around me, as if we both don’t know. My own digesting food suddenly feels like a rock in the pit of my stomach. I want out of here.
Now.
“Do you mind if I use your bathroom, Ms. Haven?” Sky asks.
Damn it.
“Of course. Just through there.” My mother smiles, actually smiles, as if she doesn’t have any rush to get in there herself.
When I hear the bathroom door click, I drop the plate in the sink and turn on her.
“What the fuck is all this?” It’s meant to come out as a demand, but it sounds more like a plea, and I have to narrow my eyes to give it some conviction.
She tucks her hands into the pockets of her cardigan. “Was it not nice?” Her smile falls. “The whipped cream could have been sweeter, but I thought it was good. I even strained the gravy. I know you don’t like the bits in it.”
“What?” I grind my teeth. “I’m not talking about the food.”
The kitchen goes painfully silent as we hold each other’s stare. She knows damn well I’m not talking about the food. The food was fucking amazing. It’s always been amazing. She can cook and bake like no other. The rolls from the dining hall pale in comparison. That’s why it’s a shame that she’s going to throw it all up.
“Never mind,” I mutter, turning back to the sink.
I’m in no shape to fight a losing war with her. After tonight, I can go back to pretending she doesn’t exist. This is the last time I ever have to do this, anyway. This is the last Christmas. For both of us.
“Cade…” my mother’s voice cracks behind me. “I miss you.”
I grip the sink, steeling myself to not turn around. I can’t. I’m a feather away from crumbling. If I look at her, I’ll cave.
“You and Sky should stay,” she says. “We can watch a movie… like we used to.”
My eyes are suddenly hot and blurry. Like we used to? When dad was still alive and cookies and chips would litter the coffee table? When Rykes wasn’t in our life and she didn’t need to rush off to the bathroom? Like we used to five years ago?
“I’m trying,” she whispers. “You’re going to graduate soon and… and I love you so much. I know I’ve made mistakes. I thought… I thought you just needed time. But you were right. I see it now. You’re my son and if I’d known I was going to lose you…”
I choke back a sob. Jesus Christ, I can’t do this.
“I’m not going to see him anymore,” she says as I turn around.
I can’t stop myself from doing it. I don’t have the energy to erect any walls. And any ruins that I had crumble to ash when I see the tears brimming in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers. “I miss you, Cade.”
I don’t flinch when she reaches out. I don’t rear back when she cups my cheek. I don’t even fight as she pulls me against her. She’s so frail. So gaunt against my body that the floodgates break and tears burn down my face. But if she’s no longer seeing Rykes, she can get healthy again. She won’t need to throw up anymore. She can fill out and the color will return to her skin. She could be my mother again, couldn’t she? It would take time, but we could—
We don’t have time.
Graduation is just around the corner. It’s too late.