Chapter Thirty-Six
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Hey. Uh, she seems pretty settled. I mean, as much as she can be,” Seth says. “You wanna go grab a burger or something?”
I can tell my brother just wants out of here. I want the hell out of here. But I’m reluctant to leave my chair. I’ve been in Dallas almost a week, and things with Mom have shifted out of crisis mode, but no one will really say what’s next because no one knows. Her vitals remain surprisingly strong, but she still hasn’t woken up at all. The hospital couldn’t keep her, so she’s back in her room at Sunny Cove.
“Yeah, okay. Just give me a minute.”
“Sure, man. I’ll wait in the car.”
He tromps out of the room, and I take my mother’s hand. Like I have every day for the last five days. I know she’ll be fine—as fine as possible under the circumstances. The staff come in regularly to care for her. They feed and toilet her, and they’ve been wonderful. But I’m worried something will change as soon as I go.
“I might have to go back to Denver for a bit,” I whisper to her. “Sethie’s going to be here, but I just have to—” My voice breaks. Return to work? Get back to normal? All the reasons I can think of to leave make me feel like the world’s shittiest son. But it’s worse than that. Because what I’m actually dreading most about going home is facing my own damn problems. “Mom, Lydia and I?—”
Her fingers tighten around mine.
I freeze, staring at her face. Nothing has changed in her expression, but her hand stays firmly closed around mine for at least a minute before finally letting go. I’m not sure what to think of this. It could be a coincidence, just a muscle reflex. Her nurses warned us about that. But my distraught brain convinces me there’s some significance in her reaction to my wife’s name. There has to be.
My mom was so stupid excited when Lydia and I got married. Her own marriage had been cut short after my dad died in a car accident when I was ten, but growing up, she made clear how grateful she was for the brief time they had together. People used to tell us how much she adored our dad, that they were made for one another. She never said she thought the connection between Lydia and me was similar, but it shined in her eyes every time she looked at us.
I never wanted to tell her otherwise.
It feels like we lost my dad a million years ago. I’ve known for a while Mom would slip away too, but for the longest time I thought I’d be okay with Seth, with Lydia, and maybe one day even a child of our own to fill the family-sized void in my heart.
I squeeze Mom’s hand back, then rest it gently on the sheet. “I’ll stop in again to say goodbye before I go.”
My brother and I don’t say much over dinner. We go to some greasy spoon he likes mostly for the beer, and I pick at my burger and fries.
“So, then. When are you thinking of heading out?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t,” I say. “My boss would probably let me go remote. That way I could be around in case something...”
A muscle in his cheek twitches. Otherwise his face doesn’t move. “The doctors said she could be like this a while.”
“I know. That’s why I thought I could stay. Maybe check in on her in the mornings, give you a break. I could even start going through some of that stuff in the basement.”
“Anton, I donated most of that shit last year.”
“Oh. ”
Seth had moved into our old house with Mom five years ago, back when she first showed signs of memory issues. It was a good plan for a while; it definitely helped to have someone around to keep the place clean and make sure she was eating and showering regularly. But then she started wandering off, and once we even had to call the police. The night she mistook the oven for a fireplace and nearly burned the place down, we knew it was time to do something else.
I keep waiting to feel as confident about what’s happening now.
“Well, still. I can spend some extra time with her.”
“Sure. Anything that helps you avoid going back to Denver,” he drawls.
I glare at him, then look around for our waitress to ask for the check.
“We haven’t talked much about Lydia since you got here,” he continues, like he’s inquiring about the stock market.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Why was it you said she didn’t come with you?”
I sit there, staring at him, but the little shit just stares back, waiting me out.
“It’s over.” I press my lips together. “There, we talked about it.” I signal the waitress.
He dips a french fry in ketchup slowly, like he’s really pondering. “Define over . Like, the existence of the dodo bird? The Rangers’ chances for the World Series?—”
“My fucking marriage, dumbass.”
He raises his eyebrows. “So, you guys never did end up in the sack?”
This is what I get for sharing details with my brother. But my mind flits to those precious minutes with my face between her thighs, breathing in her sweet scent while she bucked and moaned for me Saturday night. God. That seems like a hundred years ago.
“I got her off.” I shrug. “She gave me a BJ.”
“Oof. Sounds marriage-ending,” Seth says.
My hand curls into a fist under the table. “Can we go?”
“How was it, though?” He tips his head at me.
I clench my jaw, fighting the memory of her slick lips and tongue sliding along my shaft. The way she came at me like she was hungry for it, and I thought I might explode when my tip hit the back of her throat.
“She only did it because she felt like she had to,” I mutter.
He winces. “Ooh. So, bad? Like, lots of teeth and stuff?”
I release a hot puff of air and look away.
A slow smile creeps over his lips. “Or was it good?”
I scan the restaurant again. “Where is the goddamn server?”
“So, I’m confused,” he says, ignoring me. “You both finally got laid, and by all accounts it was great. She wishes she was here with you. But you’re getting divorced?”
I snap my eyes to his face, nearly knocking over my water glass. “You talked to her?”
He shrugs. “You should try it sometime.”
“What did she say?” I don’t mean to growl, but it definitely comes out that way. I have nearly called Lydia half a dozen times since I boarded the plane in Denver, but I’ve always stopped because what would I even say?
I miss you.
I love you.
I still want you.
I try to imagine what she’s doing without me back home. She’s probably happier, camped out in the kitchen with her laptop, PJs, and glasses, making business calls. Maybe she doesn’t miss me at all.
Or maybe she does.
The picture in my head changes, and she’s alone at home in our bed, reaching for her nightstand. She lies naked across the covers, legs spread wide as she thinks of me, vibrator humming in her juices.
Fuck.
I shift in my seat and check myself. In the ten years we’ve been together, Lydia has never once indicated that she pleasures herself. That rabbit is destined to gather dust.
“She didn’t say much.” Seth twirls a coaster in front of him. “Called to check in because she was worried. Said you told her not to come.”
I look away.
Seth lays down the coaster. “Anton, this is definitely none of my business, but I don’t know if you’ve got the right read on your wife. ”
I pound my fist on the table. “Have you not been listening to me for the past...what, year? Two years? I told you about that whole disaster at the hotel.”
“Look, I’m not stupid. You two definitely have your issues. But just in case you’re blind, it’s fucking clear she loves you.”
I exhale and close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. When I look up, my gaze falls on a tiny little girl dashing by our table, giggling with delight. A man about my age follows her, presumably her dad, pretending to give chase. He swoops her up, tickling her as he carries her back to a smiling woman at a nearby table. Something deep in my chest tightens.
“We don’t want the same things,” I say. “She wants her career, and I want...something else.”
“How do you know?”
I scowl at him. “We just fucking talked about it.”
“Bro, no offense, but you’re not the most amazing communicator.”
“And you’ve never slept two nights in a row with the same woman, so maybe you’re not the best source of monogamy advice.”
“Touché.” He shrugs. “Maybe you guys should at least try therapy.”
I roll my eyes. “Great, so I can sit in some office with her and a stranger and talk about how she doesn’t actually fucking want me.”
“Dude.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “She didn’t have to suck your dick.”
“That’s my point! She didn’t do it because she wanted to.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I scowl and don’t give him an answer.
“Okay. Look, I know Lydia well enough. I feel confident saying she loves you. And you obviously still love her.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re meant to be,” I mutter.
Seth crumples his napkin and tosses it on the table. “Mom always said you were one of those couples that was going to last.”
I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but then I think of Mom’s face on our wedding day, and this lump in the back of my throat makes me choke. I end up grinding my teeth instead, and maybe Seth can hear that because he seems to get the message.
“Sorry,” he says. And it’s clear he means it. “I’ll get the check.”