Chapter 8 #2
I don’t know what I was expecting, but the place looks nice. Homey. There are people mingling around, some on their own, others in small groups. People are watching TV, reading, or playing games. It all looks pretty… normal.
“Suzie, did you see Mrs. Williams?” the nurse asks one of the women who’s dressed in a shirt and a pair of jeans. One of the volunteers, maybe?
“She’s in her room, I believe.”
“Thank you,” she says to the woman, before she turns to me, “The bedrooms are this way.”
I follow her lead down the hallway. Some doors are open; others are closed. As we near the end of the hall, I can hear soft laughter coming from one of the rooms.
My heart skips a beat, palms turning sweaty, as the nurse peeks through the door with a big smile. “I have a visitor for you, Mrs. Williams.”
Taking a step back, she turns to me with an encouraging smile. My fingers tighten around the flowers as I force my feet to move toward the doorway.
“Who is it?” Mom glances over her shoulder, her eyes growing wide when they land on me. “Matthew.”
Mom pushes from the chair, her lips parting as she stares at me for a moment, as if she can’t believe it.
I swallow hard, but the knot stuck in my throat doesn’t budge.
I take her in, the reality of the missed years slamming into me all at once.
She’s grown older since I left. Not just that, she looks weak.
The dress she’s wearing swallows her frail body, hanging from her shoulders.
Her face is leaner, and when her lips curl into a smile, the wrinkles become even more prominent around her eyes and mouth.
Her hands are pale, and her once vibrant red hair is gone, the gray strands are neatly braided and falling over one shoulder.
I bite the inside of my cheek just as she comes to me, her arms wrapping around my middle as she pulls me into a hug.
My mouth falls open, a shaky breath escaping me as I stand here, dumbfounded.
Slowly, so impossibly slowly, I pull her into a hug, afraid I’m going to hurt her if I squeeze too tight.
I inhale deeply, expecting to find that familiar scent of wildflowers, sunshine, and cookies I remember from my childhood, but it’s gone, and the loss of it makes the ache in my chest grow stronger.
Four years.
It’s been four years since I’ve seen my mother.
You chose to stay away, I remind myself. It’s nobody’s fault but your own.
I blink, chasing away the blurriness clouding my eyes, when my gaze connects with familiar amber irises.
All the air is knocked out of my lungs as we just stare at one another—not breathing, not blinking.
Jessica’s expression is unreadable as she watches us silently from her chair. My ears are buzzing as my mind works, trying to figure out what’s going on.
What is she doing here?
But before I can delve deeper into trying to figure it out, Mom pulls back. Her smile is bigger now, her brown eyes shining with excitement as she takes me in. Her hands cup my face. Her skin is rough against mine as she stares at me with tears in her eyes. “You’ve grown so big.”
That vise grip around my heart tightens, making it hard to breathe. My voice is raspy as I force the words out. “Hey, Mom.”
She shakes her head slowly, as if she’s still in disbelief. Although, who can blame her considering I haven’t been home in years?
“You look so much like your father.”
The whispered words are like a punch to my gut. The tears shimmer in her eyes, making bile rise in my throat and leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
The guilt that’s been swallowing me whole all these years comes back in full force, stronger than ever.
This is all my fault. Losing my father. Mom being here. Her tears and pain. It’s all my fault.
Once again, she hugs me, holding tightly for a long moment before releasing me. Her smile wobbles slightly, and she wipes away a tear that slips down her cheek.
“Come, sit.” She points to the seat next to Jessica on a little couch in the corner of the room. “When did you come home?”
“I’ll leave you two—” Jessica starts to get up, but Mom waves her off.
“Nonsense. Jessy, I want you to meet my son, Matthew.” Her brow furrows for a moment as she glances between us. “Or maybe you know each other? You should be around the same age, if I remember correctly.” She chuckles softly at her own joke. “My memory isn’t the best in my old age.”
“Oh, please, you’re doing just fine.” Mom smiles at Jessica, who forces a tight grin as her amber eyes bounce to me before she looks away. “Not really. It’s nice to meet you.”
Seriously? That’s how she’s going to play this?
Fine, I’ll play along.
I extend my hand toward her as I stop in front of her, forcing her to look at me unless she wants to come off as rude. “Matthew Williams.”
The muscle in her jaw tics as she slowly lifts her gaze, her narrowed eyes throwing daggers at me. It takes her a heartbeat, but she places her hand in mine. Her skin is warm under my touch, and that familiar zap of electricity sizzles to life between us the moment our fingers brush.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Jessica.”
The corner of my mouth tips upward as irritation sparks in her eyes for a split second before she quickly pulls her hand back. “Likewise.”
Her tense smile doesn’t hide the real meaning behind her words that sounds much more like a “fuck you.”
“Matthew is my youngest,” Mom explains as she takes a seat in the armchair, and the proud tone of her voice makes that uneasy feeling return. “He left for college a few years ago.” She smiles at me. “How long are you staying?”
“I’m back home for good.”
“You’re…” Mom blinks at me, clearly surprised by the news. Tears gather in her eyes again as a beaming smile spreads over her lips. “That’s amazing news. All my babies back home at last.”
A knot forms in my throat at the wistful note in her voice.
Somehow, her excitement at this news hurts even more than her rejection would have. I left without a word, without a call or an explanation, and yet she opened her arms to me the moment I stepped back into this town, welcoming me home. After everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve cost her.
I swallow hard, my fingers digging into my skin until I feel a bite of pain, which reminds me I’m still holding the flowers.
“I got you these,” I croak out, grateful for an excuse to change the subject. “Where do you want me to put them?”
“I can put them away for you, Mrs. Williams,” Jessica volunteers immediately.
She jumps to her feet but miscalculates the distance between us, and I can hear her sharp intake of breath when her body brushes against mine in the process.
Her head tilts back, our eyes meeting. She’s standing so close I can see different shades of gold specks dancing in her brown irises.
They’re pulling me in, shimmery and enchanting, just like the woman in front of me.
I might still be right where you left me, but I’m not the girl I used to be.
The words she said the other day echo in my head as we stand frozen in time. I haven’t stopped thinking about them, about her, since she left that damn party, the past and present mixing together in my mind, no matter how much I’ve tried to push her out.
And now she’s here.
Destiny sure has a twisted sense of humor.
I’m not sure how long we stay like this—a few heartbeats or a lifetime—while my heart thunders inside my chest, until Jessica takes a step back, breaking our contact.
“Umm…” She clears her throat, ducks her head, her fingers wrapping around the flowers, making sure not to brush against mine as she slips past me. “The vase is right there.”
My gaze is still locked on her as she moves toward the side table and grabs a vase before slipping into the bathroom where I can hear the faucet running.
“Why did you decide to come back?” Mom’s question snaps me out of my thoughts.
“I got a job here.” Slowly, I shift my attention to her. “I finished the police academy.”
That little frown between her brows deepens as her mind works, and I hold my breath as I wait for her reaction.
I remember clearly how it used to be in those last few years before I left, although it started way before that.
The forgetfulness. First, it was little things, then it was big things.
The annoyance when anybody tried to tell her she was wrong or correct her.
Her deep scowl as her mind tried to process everything that was going on.
I’d seen it so many times during my teenage years, it’s still engraved into my memory.
At first, I thought she hated me for everything that had happened, the role I played in my father’s death, but later on, after she was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s, I realized it’s just the way she is now.
The guilt I felt only intensified after that.
What if it was my fault that she got this way?
The stress of losing the only man she ever loved, having to raise three children all on her own.
“Mrs. Williams?” Jessica gently places her hand on my mom’s elbow, drawing her attention. I’m so out of it, I didn’t even notice when she returned to the room. “These are beautiful, right?”
Mom’s head snaps up, some of that haziness fading.
A small smile plays on her lips as she leans down and smells the flowers.
“They’re really beautiful. Thank you, Matthew.
” She returns her attention to me. “I’m sorry about that.
Everything gets a little bit hazy these days.
But I have a feeling Becky mentioned you going to the academy. ”
“Probably.” I eye her carefully, afraid that faraway look will come back. “She wasn’t really happy about that.”
Mom chuckles. “I’m not sure why. I can’t say I’m surprised. You always needed to help people, to save them. They’re lucky to have you.”
Her praise has me shifting in my seat. How can she, of all people, look at me like some hero when, in reality, that can’t be further from the truth?
I’m nobody’s savior.
“I don’t know about that.”