Chapter 41
Asher
“It hasn’t been a good day.”
These are my least favorite words to hear from my mom’s nurse. Unfortunately, the older Mom gets, the more often I hear them. Today, of all days, is a rough day to hear them. Even at the age of thirty-nine, I’m not too old to admit that sometimes I just really need my mom.
“It’s alright,” I tell the nurse. “I’d like to see her anyway.”
She nods, and I make my way into the room. Mom is sitting by the window. The puzzle is gone, and the table is empty other than an untouched cup of tea.
“Mrs. Levine?” the nurse asks. Mom doesn’t answer. She’s staring out the window, her hands clasped in her lap. Worry lines tug her lips downward, and her eyes look a million miles away. “Constance, someone is here to see you. Do you know who this is?”
She still doesn’t look up, but I wave to the nurse that it’s okay. “Hey Mom,” I say as I walk over to her.
I pull a chair up to the table. “What happened to the puzzle?” I ask softly.
“I couldn’t find the wings,” she says without looking at me. “Silly puzzle anyways.”
“It was a beautiful picture,” I say. “Robins, wasn’t it?”
“Canaries,” she corrects me, and my lips twitch in a near smile. Then her eyes flutter over to me. “Oh. Ash. When did you get here?”
“I just sat down,” I tell her.
“I didn’t see you come in. I was just looking out the window. It’s so dreary out today.”
“It’s cold, too,” I tell her.
“Winter is always so awful here. I want to be in Hawaii. We should go to Hawaii,” she says.
“That would be nice,” I say. Mom is smiling, but her eyes are still far off somewhere.
“Your father loved Hawaii. You remember him, don’t you?” she asks, and I swallow.
“I do. Very well.”
“We went to Hawaii on our honeymoon. That was before you were born, of course. You might have been conceived in Hawaii. Although I’m sure you didn’t want to know that,” she chuckles softly, and I smile. Then it fades. “He was the love of my life.”
“I know,” I say, my throat tight.
“Have you ever been in love?” she asks, her eyes shifting over to me. “Surely, you have. Surely you have a wife and kids of your own right now. I just can’t seem to remember much today. Damn memory.”
“I’m not married,” I tell her, and she narrows her eyes.
“You’re not?”
I shake my head.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Cinderella? You’ve got gray hairs, for crying out loud.”
I run my hand through my hair with a smile, glad to hear the sass in her tone. But it’s gone in an instant, and she looks out the window again.
“That’s actually why I came here,” I say. “I wanted to talk to you about a girl. About Harper.”
Mom doesn’t respond. I’m not even sure she’s listening, but I keep talking anyway.
“I didn’t mean to fall for her. She’s my best friend’s sister, which makes her off limits, I know.
But it just kind of happened. Hell, I don’t even know when it happened, but it did.
When I found out she was getting married to someone who doesn’t deserve her, I came unglued.
I stopped the wedding, you know. I flew all the way to Costa Rica, and I stopped the wedding.
Then we were stuck there for a while because of a storm, and I…
I couldn’t deny it. Being around her, being that close to her, I knew there was something there. Something I’d never felt before.”
Mom doesn’t look at me. But she clicks her tongue and begins to talk again.
“Your father and I used to argue a lot. Of course, we hid it from you. But when we first met, it was a bit bumpy,” she smiles.
“We were both so stubborn. We really got into it sometimes, but we always made up. It’s almost like we were so different that our differences actually reeled us back in.
We had to try harder to make it work than people who are similar. ”
“I always thought you guys had the perfect relationship,” I say, and she looks at me.
“No one has a perfect relationship, Ash. You’re old enough to know that. There are no fairytales. You have to fight for what’s worth keeping.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair and staring out at whatever she keeps staring at. Hope, I guess.
“What do you do when fighting for the person you love means losing someone else you love?” I ask.
“You mean when you can’t find it in your heart to choose?” she asks.
“Exactly,” I say.
“I suppose you have to ask yourself why they are making you choose in the first place. Fear. Jealousy. Stubbornness. Those are the main reasons people would put you in that position. And if that’s the case, that’s for them to work out. Not you.”
“Right,” I whisper, knowing fully that what she is saying is true, but not wanting to believe it if it means losing Jaylen.
“I knew you would fall in love eventually,” she says, and it surprises me a little. I look over at her, and she’s just smiling at me. A knowing smile that only moms seem to possess.
“I tried not to,” I tell her.
“I know you did,” she says. “You were always so afraid. What do you think it was that you were afraid of?” she asks.
I chew on my lip for a moment, thinking about that. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to love someone and lose them. I couldn’t bear the thought, you know?” I ask, and her smile fades.
“It is a sentence worse than death,” she says, and that hits me hard. Harder than Jaylen’s fist.
“Then why do it? Why fall in love at all?” I ask genuinely.
“Because it’s much worse to live without it…to never know it.”
I know the phrase. It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
But honestly, looking at my mom right now as she slips in and out of the past and present, I don’t know if that’s true.
The pain I see in her eyes is deep. But it also hits me that I’ve already passed that point.
The point where I can’t go back. The feelings are already there.
The memories of her in that dress…of her face when I stole her away…
of her walking around the villa in her oversized shirt.
Of her yelling at me with fire in her eyes one minute and laughing playfully on the beach the next.
Of her making cocktails and kissing me, and falling asleep on my chest. It’s all already there.
“You know,” Mom says. “We almost didn’t get married.”
“What?” I ask.
“Yep. We got in a fight the day of our wedding,” she nods.
“You did?”
“Sure did.”
“About what?” I ask, hardly believing it.
“Your Uncle Louie didn’t like him,” she answers, and I am lost.
“Uncle Louie didn’t like Dad,” I echo.
“Nope,” she shakes her head with a smirk.
“Not one bit. He was worried because we fell so hard and so fast. He was very protective of me, your uncle. He did everything he could to prevent it. Threatened to come along on dates. One time, when your dad came to pick me up for dinner, when we walked outside, because, you know, back then, a man parked his car first and then went to the door. When we walked outside, we both just stopped. In the short amount of time it took your dad to come inside, help me into my jacket, and say hello to your grandmother, Uncle Louie had taken all the tires off his car and had the car mounted on cinder blocks.”
“Jesus,” I let out. “That’s fucked up.”
“It was fucked up. It was also hilarious,” she says, and we both laugh. “Nothing can stand in the way if you both love each other,” she says. “And the people who love you will support you. Even if it takes some time for them to come around.”
I think about that. At this point, we have done everything we can do.
I’m obviously going to try to talk to Jaylen, but ultimately, it’s whatever he decides.
And I am going to have to accept that. We both are.
Because at the end of the day, I know where my heart is at.
For the first time in my life, I have allowed my heart to do what it wants.
To go where it wants. To love who it wants.
And I’m not about to lose it. I can’t lose her. Even if it means worst comes to worst.
“Thank you, Mom,” I say. “I knew I’d feel better if I talked to you.”
I look up to see Mom staring out the window again. Her hands are clasped in her lap, and her eyes are glassy. “Couldn’t find the wings,” she whispers. “Found the beaks, but couldn’t find the wings.”
“Mom?” I ask, leaning in. The nurse appears in the doorway, watching us and ready to take over if need be.
“All those pretty yellow feathers,” she says. “What a shame.”
“Mrs. Levine,” the nurse says. Mom blinks, turning to the nurse. The look of weariness in her eyes is replaced with slight irritation. Then her eyes flash back to me.
“Oh. Asher. When did you get here?” she asks, and my stomach sinks.
“I just came in to check on you,” I tell her.
“Oh,” she smiles momentarily before it fades. “I am very tired today.”
“I know, Mom,” I say, standing and putting my hand on her shoulder.
“I wish I could talk more,” she says.
“Trust me, Mom. You’ve done more than enough.”
With that, I make my way out. As I walk to my car, I know what I have to do. I know what matters most. Even if it is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.