Chapter 15 #2
Hopping out of the pool, Levi positioned himself so that he sat beside me.
His wet thigh pressed against mine, soaking through the fabric of my skirt, but I didn’t make any effort to move.
There was a certain comfort to be found in the heat radiating from his body, and though I’d never admit it, I hated waking up cold and alone on my side of the pillow wall in our bed.
That first morning, with his strong arms wrapped around me, was the first time I’d felt safe in a very long time.
I hitched a thumb over my shoulder toward the house. “I’m gonna go in and scrounge up something for dinner.”
Levi stood, offering me his hand and hauling me to my feet. “I left a plate for you in the oven.”
Stunned, I stepped back, a sound of disbelief falling from my lips. “You cooked?”
“Mmm. Grilled chicken over pasta.”
That sounded so amazing that my mouth began to water. And the gesture, though incredibly small, hit me square in the solar plexus, knocking the breath from my lungs.
All I could manage was a whispered, “Thank you.”
Even in the darkness, I saw the tint of pink coloring Levi’s cheeks as he flashed me a boyish grin that made him look about a decade and a half younger than his thirty-two years. “No big deal.”
He was wrong. It was a huge deal.
I couldn’t remember the last time someone took care of me—it was always the other way around.
Austin wouldn’t be the only one dragging their feet when our time with Levi came to an end.
With a rare afternoon off and plenty of time before the kids were due home from school, I pulled into a familiar parking lot.
It took a full fifteen minutes before I hyped myself up enough to get out of the car, and even then, I dragged my feet as I walked toward the building’s entrance, dreading how I would leave more broken than when I arrived.
Halfway through signing in at the front desk, a friendly voice called out, “Arizona, I’m so glad you were able to come today.”
I lifted my head to find Ellen, the nurse who went out of her way to send me frequent updates on Mom’s condition, on approach.
Her smile was so wide I could have probably counted all of her teeth. “It’s been a minute since your last visit.”
Ellen was merely making polite conversation, but her words caused a blanket of shame to settle over my shoulders.
I could make excuses for my prolonged absence—life had certainly been crazy as of late—but in all honesty, I’d been actively avoiding making the trip out here.
Nothing on this earth could match the pain of mourning the loss of your mother when she was sitting in the chair right across from you.
“I’ve spent all morning preparing her for you to join her for tea. She’s very excited.”
“Really?” Hope filled my chest that maybe today would be one of the ultra-rare days when she was lucid, when she remembered me. If I could just feel her arms around me, I might be able to trick myself into believing everything would be okay.
“Mm-hmm.” Ellen gestured in the direction of the residents’ rooms, and together, we began to walk down the hall.
When we reached the open door to my mom’s suite, she was sitting in a chair near the window, admiring the flowers blooming in the garden just outside.
Ellen knocked on the door to alert her of our presence. “Sarah, look who’s come to see you.”
Mom turned around, and when her eyes locked on me, I held my breath expectantly, waiting to see a flicker of recognition in their blue depths.
“Oh, are you the new administrator?”
My hopes were dashed in an instant, and a soul-crushing sadness settled deep within my bones.
At this point, I would make a deal with the devil for one day—hell, I’d settle for one hour—with the woman who’d made homemade signs to cheer me on at gymnastics meets throughout my youth.
Not wanting to upset her, I plastered on my professional smile and nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”
Mom’s eyes darted to Ellen before returning to meet mine. “You can come in, but only for a few minutes. I’m expecting a visit from my daughter and grandson soon.”
A sob bubbled up from my chest, and I barely managed to clap a hand over my mouth in time so that it didn’t break free.
This was so fucking unfair I couldn’t stand it.
Ellen placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, keeping her voice low. “I’m so sorry. I thought for sure—”
Trying like hell not to crumple into a heap on the floor, where I would undoubtedly curl into the fetal position and bawl my eyes out, I waved her off with a choked “Leave us.” Then I tacked on “Please.”
“Of course.”
Stepping forward, I motioned to the open chair beside the tea table. “May I?”
Mom dipped her chin. “I suppose.” When I settled opposite her, she asked, “Do you know my Arizona and Austin?”
I wanted to scream and shout and tell her I was right here, but I knew how that would end—with her in a fit of hysterics, and the trauma of watching her be forcefully sedated.
Witnessing that once had been enough to give me nightmares for weeks, so instead, I replied, “Yes, they love and miss you very much.” I relayed the message through someone whom she believed to be a third party.
Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath as if struck by a sudden realization.
“Oh! I called Austin my grandson, didn’t I?
When they get here, please don’t make mention of it.
We are waiting until Arizona gets back on her feet before she can take him back.
My girl is trying so hard. She just lost her way for a little bit. ”
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces, the shards scattering across the floor. I wished more than anything she could see the woman I’d become, see how I’d turned my life around after crawling out of a hole that most never managed to escape.
When I didn’t say anything, Mom continued speaking. “I’ll never forget the night I got a call, years after she ran away, that Arizona had been admitted to the hospital in a bad way, and there was a sick little baby boy who needed a home.”
The most devastating part was that she would forget it. If not today or tomorrow, someday soon. Just like she’d forgotten that we agreed we would never tell Austin that I was his birth mother, ensuring he never learned the details surrounding his conception or about his monster of a sperm donor.
“By the time I got there, she was climbing the walls, despite having just woken up from surgery, because they wouldn’t give her anything stronger than ibuprofen.
” She shook her head, a sound of disgust coming from the back of her throat.
“Damn doctors were the reason she ended up like that in the first place. Anyway, she was so consumed with getting her next fix that she barely knew I was there, let alone that she’d had a baby and he was going through the same withdrawal. ”
My vision blurred, and I couldn’t stop the tears that fell freely.
I couldn’t remember much from when Austin was born, but with crystal clarity, I could recall what it felt like when it had been too long since my last high, and there was no doubt in my mind that Mom’s firsthand account was spot on—that I’d cared more about getting my hands on drugs than about the baby whom I’d brought into the world addicted to them.
“Oh, honey.” Mom patted my hand. “She wasn’t herself there for a while, but I promise she’s doing so much better now. You’ll see when she gets here. Went to rehab when Austin was a toddler and has been sober for almost four years now.”
“Ten,” I corrected automatically.
“What was that?”
Realizing my mistake, I shook my head muttering, “Nothing.”
She didn’t press for more, sitting back in her chair. “Enough about me. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
Sniffling, I wiped at my eyes. “Oh, um. I just got married.” Lifting my left hand, I showcased the glittering diamond that rested there.
“Well, isn’t that wonderful,” Mom gushed, radiating genuine happiness. “Those early days are magic. You’ll cherish them forever.”
If only she knew that the whole thing was a farce.
“Is he a good man, your husband?” she inquired.
My lips twisted to the side. “At the beginning, I wasn’t so sure, but now I think that maybe he is. He has a daughter, and he’s surprisingly good with her.”
Her smile grew. “Looks like you’ve got yourself an instant little family there.”
“Yeah. We kinda do.”
“Well”—she clasped her hands together, bringing them to her chest—“I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
Dammit, I’d barely just stopped crying, and here she was about to set me off again.
I blinked rapidly, my voice coming out hoarse. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
She checked the clock on the wall. “My family should be here soon.”
The dismissal was clear, and I rose on shaky legs, offering a weak goodbye.
With the grief overwhelming, it was a freaking miracle I managed to make it home without having a mental breakdown.
And because life apparently loved to kick me while I was down, Hilda was waiting at our front door to do her first official check-in.