16. Tobias
CHAPTER 16
Tobias
T he lids to Harmony’s dark ocean-colored eyes flutter closed, her lips forming into a smile as our breathing evens out. I think she’s asleep, but then she hums out a content sigh. This peaceful expression only magnifies her beauty. A minute later her eyes pop open and she gives me a look I can’t place.
“Excuse me!” She shrieks out in a rush as she hops out of bed. She sprints out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, the shower water running a second later. I can’t help but chuckle, and then fifteen minutes later she comes back, wrapped in a towel, hair damp and skin glistening. She trails into her walk-in closet, returning in a Blind Rebels t-shirt and a pair of female-styled boxers. Then she climbs back into bed.
“Sorry.” She doesn’t hesitate snuggling into my side, throwing her leg over mine as she gets comfortable.
“Don’t apologize, Harmony,” I tell her, propping my arm behind her head so I can hold her close. “I have to ask you about that tattoo on your thigh. Does it represent The SeaSong?” I cuddle her and can’t help but notice how right it feels. Somehow, she nestles closer. Like she wants to live inside of me.
She sighs warmly against my shoulder, sated. “Kind of. My dad and I both have mermaid tattoos in the same place. I drew his when I was a little girl. He drew mine as a present and offered to pay for the tattoo if I wanted it for my eighteenth birthday. Mermaids are our thing.” She runs a hand over my chest, stopping to twirl some of the hair with her finger. “It’s why I picked a mermaid theme for The SeaSong.”
A couple more soft exhales from her, and she relaxes into sleep. But I don’t follow suit. I can’t.
What have I done? I can’t have this with her. Not even after this amazing encounter. I just can’t. She deserves a life with someone her own age, who doesn’t have to care for their mother. I don’t want her feeling obligated to be my caretaker when I’m old and gray. I don’t want to be unable to remember this amazing night. And that’s what it’s been—an amazing, unforgettable evening that will live rent free in my head until fate says otherwise.
When I’m sure she’s in a deep enough sleep, I carefully unwrap her arms from around me and quietly slide off the bed. After gathering my clothes, I pad across the wooden floor, dressing quiet as a ninja in her hallway before slipping out of her apartment.
What the hell was I thinking tonight? I can’t be that gross guy who goes after the young girl. Plus, I have my mom to worry about, which leaves no room in my life for another woman. Neither of those things are fair to Harmony.
Was it just days ago I was still in Harmony’s bed after the best night of my life? I’ve been successfully able to avoid her since then, how- I’m not quite sure. But now I am getting ready to take Mom home and that’s what is most important.
“Are you ready to go home, Mom?”
She’s sitting in a wheelchair the hospital insists on, looking a little frailer than before she came in—at least to me. It could be my imagination, though. I called the neurology specialist that Dr. Woods recommended, worried I’d have to put up a fight to get my mom seen. Dr. Merlink surprised me by already being familiar with Mom’s medical record and was eager to set up an appointment for when he’s in Port Haven again, which happens to be in about three weeks. He ordered a battery of tests for her, so they kept Mom overnight to complete them.
“I’ll miss the young woman who visited me. She brings me the most delicious scones and muffins. Will she keep coming, Anthony? She brings peace and harmony with her visits.”
We’ve had various conversations on this topic nearly every day she’s been at Haven Hospital. I have no idea who she’s talking about. There are no onsite volunteers this year, from what I know. Sometimes, the high schoolers are looking to add to their college applications, but Cindy, her nurse, told me that they haven’t had any in the last year or so.
It wasn’t Mrs. Peabody. While she did visit my mother daily, she wouldn’t be considered a young woman by any stretch of the imagination, and she didn’t bring food when she did visit. I asked the first time Mom mentioned this person. For all I know, it’s just a cruel trick her mind is playing on her.
“Are you ready for your ride to the hospital doors, Mrs. Kelleher?” Cindy smiles as she bends over to unlock the brakes on the wheelchair. “Next time you want to visit us, just ask Toby to bring you by, no need to hurt yourself again! You have everything?” We give my mom’s room a once-over but don’t see anything left behind. I know they’ll reach out if we miss something. This hospital is highly recommended, despite it being small.
We get Mom buckled into my car. I turn back to Cindy. “Thank you, and everyone, for the care.”
“No need to thank us, hon. It’s our job.” She leans into the vehicle to squeeze my mom and goes back inside after a quick wave goodbye.
I’m glad Mom is coming home. I’ll rest easier during my workday knowing she’ll be comfortable with Mrs. Peabody and her familiar routine. Mom’s always better when she’s in surroundings she knows. Not to mention, I can go directly home after my day at the bookstore instead of making a trip to the hospital.
During her hospital admission, her confusion caused her to ask me to stay later and later each day, thinking I was my father. It hurt my heart to leave her for the night, especially when she was so mixed up.
Mrs. Peabody is waiting for us at the house when we arrive and helps me get mom inside. The drive, while short, always discombobulates her, so Mrs. Peabody gets her settled in her room for a nap.
“I wish I knew the young lady your mom keeps asking about. I’m telling you, Toby, I’d love to try the treats she brought your mom. She raves about them. She asked if one would be waiting for her when she woke up.”
“Even Cindy didn’t know. I’m worried that it’s something she dreamed about or created herself.” It’s not a good sign if Mom’s losing her grip on reality. While I was initially excited about her new neurologist, I am growing apprehensive. What if he wants to admit her to a care facility? I promised her she could stay here.
“Stop putting the cart before the horse,” Mrs. Peabody says as she leans in and pats my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”
I nod. “I’m just glad she’s home.”
“You’re a good son, Toby.” She looks me in the eye to stress her point.
She always tells me that, but that doesn’t mean I actually am. It sure doesn’t feel like I am when I’m spread too thin most days. Sometimes, I resent being an only child and wish I had siblings to help me.
That thought alone makes me a shitty person. I’m not a good son, or I wouldn’t take solace in the break work provides these days. Getting away and getting lost in my bookstore, in receiving special orders, and making schedules for my employees gives me purpose outside of being there for Mom. I don’t have many employees, but they are something of a family to me. While I love my mom, I miss that level of connection that’s usually present in a relationship with a person. I can’t find a word in the English language that truly describes how much I miss the one that is nonexistent between Mom and me.
And for some reason, I can’t get Harmony’s damn mermaid tattoo and her thigh out of my mind.