14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Thea
“ L et me know if you two need anything,” Margot says as she leaves the room. She shuts the door lightly behind her, and I make a mental note to thank her for coming to my rescue with Brooks yesterday before I leave. I’ve never met a kinder soul than Margot Mason. I’ve never heard the girl even mutter a curse word or get snippy with someone. Mom and I call her the true saint of Saint Stephen’s.
Settling into the chair by the window in my mom's room, I watch her closely as she wheels over so we can chat. Sundays have always been the day I visit her. Because the funeral was last Sunday, and I was only able to see her for a short time, today is much needed. Especially after what transpired last night between Cary and me.
Once I finally calmed down enough to drive myself home, I spent all night tossing and turning. Everytime I closed my eyes, visions of him hovering over my body and giving me the best orgasm I’ve had in almost a decade flooded my brain. I want to say I don’t know how it happened or how we got to that point, but the truth is I’ve felt the connection between us re-forming since the moment we made eye contact on the steps of RED.
My mistake was thinking it was one-sided or that either of us could ignore it. Now I’m left to wonder what it all means and how much it’ll hurt when he goes back to Seattle. My mother clears her throat, successfully pulling me out of my thoughts. I shake my head while biting the inside of my lip. “Sorry, Mom. I’m a little in my thoughts today.”
“I can tell. I can also see the bags under your eyes. Are you still not sleeping well?” Her voice is seeping with concern as her worried eyes meet mine.
I’ve had stress-induced insomnia most of my life. There were more nights than I can count where my mom would make me chamomile tea sweetened with honey and run her fingers through my hair to help me try to fall asleep. If I was at the end of a string of sleepless nights, it would sometimes work. When it didn’t, it would at least calm my mind and slow my racing thoughts. As I got older, others took over that role. First, it was Cary. Recently, it has been Ripley.
“It got better in the last few days until last night,” I say, fidgeting with my rings.
“Hmm,” she starts, “any particular reason you can think of for why it started up again?”
Her words have a small laugh escaping me. “Oh, I know exactly why.”
“Well, don’t keep an old lady waiting in suspense—spill.” My lips tilt up in a smile. My mom and I have always been close. She was a single mother and never had any other children. My father split the moment he found out she was pregnant. He apparently wasn’t keen on the whole being a dad thing. Not that she needed him. My childhood was never unfulfilling or unhappy with only one parent. We became thick as thieves as I grew up. She was the person I told everything to, the one who told me to reach for the stars and chase my dreams.
Looking back, I see now that her symptoms started before I left for Seattle. She’d waved me off anytime I brought it up, claiming she was just tired or “getting old” despite being a younger mother than most with a teenager. Once I came back home, I’d found out she’d not only been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, but she’d been keeping it from me. It had progressed to a point where she could no longer hide it. And much to her dismay, she couldn’t live alone anymore either.
She was the reason I came back home. And she was a big part of the reason why I never went back to Seattle. Not a day goes by that I don’t remember the phone call that started it all.
8 Years Ago
(23 years old)
I look down at the time and see it’s six-twelve. Cary just got back from helping with the prep for tonight. We’re supposed to be at the restaurant by seven for his first night as head chef, but the drive is only about ten minutes from our apartment. It’s then I realize what day it is. I’ve been so busy getting ready for Cary’s big night, it completely slipped my mind.
Cary surprised me this morning by taking me shopping for a dress. He knows how much I dread big crowds and the anxiety that comes with them. I think he thought the dress shopping would distract me enough so I wouldn’t have too much time to think about it. I’ve been trying to not let my anxiety cloud how proud I am of him. This restaurant is owned by a huge name in the industry, so Cary getting the head chef position is a huge deal.
When we got home, I’d surprised him with the custom knives I’d bought him as a present for landing his dream job. They’re engraved with ‘Chef Cary’ on each of the blades. The box they came in also has a hidden ‘I love you, baby’ engraved on the bottom under the compartment that holds them. I wanted him to feel like he could use them at work but still think of me when he did.
Once he’d opened the gift and thoroughly thanked me, he’d left me to get myself ready for the night.
It’s going on six-thirty here which means it’s almost nine-thirty back home. I haven’t heard from my mom all day long, and today is our weekly phone call. I’m immediately nervous that something is wrong but try not to panic without any kind of proof. Maybe she was busy and simply forgot too.
Quickly pulling up her name in my phone, I press the call button and put it on speaker so I can continue applying my make-up. It rings and rings and rings then goes to voicemail. My stomach drops. She always answers my call. It is late though. I tell myself that’s all it is but call again for good measure.
Still no answer.
Opening the bathroom door, I look around the corner to see if Cary is nearby so I can ask his opinion. I don’t see him, but I hear him talking to someone on the phone in the other room and decide not to interrupt him. Back in the bathroom, I place my hands on the edge of the counter and look at myself in the mirror, actively biting my lip as I try to decide what I should do. I don’t technically know if anything is even wrong. I just have this bad feeling, and she isn’t answering. Despite it being late, I decide to call my mom’s next door neighbor, Barbara.
Once again, the phone rings and rings, but on the last ring, Barbara answers, “Hello?”
“Hey, Barb. It’s Thea, Lydia’s daughter. I’m so sorry to call so late, but my mom isn’t answering, and she was supposed to call me earlier. I just have a weird feeling about it. Is there any way you can go over there and check on her?” My nerves are getting the best of me, and I have to cut myself off before I start apologizing even more for asking.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure she’s fine. I saw her in the garden earlier today.”
I nod my head to myself, but the pit in the bottom of my stomach just won’t go away. My gut is telling me there’s something wrong. “I know it’s an inconvenience. I just… she always answers, Barb,” I plead my case once more.
“Okay, okay, honey. I’ll get dressed and pop over there. You’ll have to give me a little bit though, I was already in bed.”
I know her words aren’t meant to make me feel bad, but they do anyway. I push the feeling aside. “Thank you so much, Barb. I really appreciate it.”
With that, we hang up, and I go back to finishing my make-up. I have a solid five minutes to finish getting ready before Cary will throw me over his shoulder and carry me out to the car. I’m done with one minute to spare. Once we’re in the car, I tell Cary about my mom, he assures me there’s nothing to worry about, and it’s just my nerves for tonight getting to me. He’s probably right, but I need to hear it from her. I need to hear her voice, and I’ll be fine.
When we’re pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot, my phone starts to ring. I look down to see it’s Barbara calling me back and answer immediately.
“Barbara, is everything okay?” The panic in my voice is evident. And there’s a small pause before she answers. It only lasts a couple seconds, but it feels like an eternity.
“Baby… I think you need to come home.” Her voice cuts me like a knife. Tears fill my eyes instantly. My mind is whirring with all the worst case scenarios.
“Wh-What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Cary places his hand on my leg in an attempt to comfort me.
“Well, she didn’t answer the door when I rang the bell, so I grabbed the extra key, you know, the one she hides in that pot in the garden.” I shake my head in a silent answer, willing her to go on. “When I finally got in the door, I found her in the kitchen on the floor. She’s okay right now, but I think she may have broken her ankle. She said she lost her balance and couldn’t catch herself.”
I finally let myself take a breath knowing she’s conscious. My voice still comes out shaky, but it’s better than before. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll get a flight out as soon as possible. Thank you, Barbara. Thank you so much.”
I hear my mom in the background telling Barbara to stop bothering me because it’s Cary’s big night and how she better not be telling me to come home. I smile at that, and the tightening in my chest loosens some.
“I’ve got an ambulance on the way, sweetie. I’ll text you with the details once she’s settled,” she says as she ignores my mom berating her. I thank her again before disconnecting the call. As soon as I’m off the phone with Barbara, I turn to Cary.
“I’ve got to go home. I’m so sorry.”
“Can’t you fly out in the morning? Then I can come with you. There’s just no way I can leave right now. Barbara said it just looked like a broken ankle,” he recites back to me. Clearly he was able to hear everything she said.
“She doesn’t have anyone, Cary. Barbara is in her seventies, I can’t expect her to stay with her. I know you don’t understand because you aren’t close with your mom, but I won’t leave her there alone when she’s hurt,” I shoot back at him, my face heating with my quick anger.
“I’m going to ignore that jab for now. This is such a big night for me, Thea. It’s a big night for us .”
“I know,” I say but only really knowing that it’s a big night for him. I feel like he’s only saying ‘us’ to guilt trip me. “But she’s hurt. I need to be there for her. I’m not going to argue with you. I am sorry though, and I’ll make it up to you somehow when I come back.” Before he can respond, I’m already looking up flights from Seattle to Myrtle Beach. The flight will take all night, and with the drive to Indigo Hill, I’ll be lucky if I’m there before noon tomorrow. I find a redeye flight that’s just over seven hours. I don’t waste any time and click the purchase button.
“You’re really doing this?” I don’t understand why he’s so upset. The tone he’s using is pissing me off even more. I look at the clock on the dash to see it’s now six-fifty-seven before meeting his eyes.
“You should get inside. I’ll call an Uber.” I unfasten my seat belt and exit the car. He acts like he might say something else, but I’m already walking away in the opposite direction of the door as I pull up the Uber app.
Present
I shake the memory away and roll my eyes at my mom. “You are not old, stop.”
She laughs but gives me a ‘go on’ motion with her hand, the woman is unrelenting. “Well, as you know, Cary is back in town”
She nods her head as she says, “I do know that.”
Wow, she is not making this easy.
“Right. So… we may have… kind of reconnected in the last week, and I don’t know, I’m just confused now.”
She waits for a moment to see if I’ll elaborate any more, but I don’t. “Do you still have feelings for him? Is that what you’re confused about?” There’s no judgment in her voice.
“It’s been eight years, Mom. I’ve moved on. And we didn’t work before, so there’s no sense in even discussing it.” My leg starts to bounce involuntarily, and my mom’s eyes catch the movement.
“Moved on with whom?” The question catches me off guard, making my eyes shoot up to hers. She doesn’t let me answer though. “You and I both know you aren’t Ripley’s… type. You may have fooled everyone else in this town with that sham, but I know better.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised. Of course my mother knows everything without me telling her. I can’t even fake date my gay best friend without her figuring it out.
She’s right though, we do have everyone else fooled. Ever since we started “dating” no one has tried to set either of us up. They all just accepted us as the perfect couple. We even started calling each other ‘babe’ to spice up the ruse. Now we do it as a joke regardless of who’s around.
I take a deep breath, accepting my defeat. “How long have you known?”
“That you two weren’t really together, or that he’s into men?” she asks plainly.
“Uhh, both? Either?” I answer truthfully.
“Since the Sunday you two walked in here hand-in-hand trying to feed me that lie.”
I laugh at her admission. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” It would have saved me a lot of effort. Ripley doesn’t come with me every time, but he usually tags along every other Sunday, and trying to be convincing in front of my mother has always been a concern.
“I figured you’d tell me when you wanted me to know.”
I reach for her hand and lace my fingers in hers. “Sorry, Mom. I should have told you sooner.”
She shakes her head, placing her other hand on top of mine. “No, baby. Don’t be sorry. I know how broken your heart has been since you and Cary ended. You needed time to heal, and this Godforsaken gossip of a town just wouldn’t give it to you.”
I laugh and give her hand a squeeze. “You aren’t wrong there.” I sigh then continue, “And now he’s back. It’s like the cycle is starting all over.”
“Or maybe, it never ended. Maybe this was just an intermission for you two.” Her words hit me right in the chest. If there’s one person who knew how deep my love truly was for Carrington Grant, it’s my mother.
The rest of our time together is spent outside. I push her through the garden, we say hello to some of her friends, and then I cry like a baby when I have to say goodbye.
I’m dialing Ripley’s number as soon as my phone connects to the car. Luckily, he answers almost immediately, “Hey, babe.”
“Hey,” I say back. I hope he isn’t busy, this is about to be a long conversation.
“What’s up?” he says. I can hear people in the background.
“Oh, just a couple of things. What do you want to hear about first? How my mom knows we aren’t really dating or how Cary finger fucked me last night?” I try to say the last part as nonchalantly as possible.
He gasps so loud on the other end of the phone the people around him ask if he’s okay. He ignores them and starts rapid-firing questions my way. “Fuck off, you know exactly what I want to hear about.”
I laugh at his response, but before I can answer, he’s already talking again. “How? Where? Oh my God, please tell me it wasn’t on your couch. I love that couch. I sleep on that couch. Fuck. Tell me everything,” he says, barely taking a breath between any of his questions.
As I answer his ever-growing list of questions, my anxiety about it all wanes, and a drive that usually feels somber is replaced with a warmth in my chest.
I didn’t lie when I told Cary that Ripley is my person. I couldn’t do life without him. It’s the reason why our fake relationship has been so believable. No one questions it because we do love each other. I love him so much that it hurts sometimes.