Forever Changed

Whatever, I sighed. Even electronically her sarcasm was crystal clear.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the drama, I kept my reply neutral.

Sorry had to pick Megan up from school.

Her answer came back almost instantly.

Ms. Hanson is majorly pissed at you for skipping cheerleading again.

She’ll get over it. I texted, aggravated that it was even an issue.

Well you are the captain after all.

With that, my frustration reached a boiling point.

Lacey could you stop being a selfish bitch for just one moment. I mean seriously my dad just died. I don’t give a shit about cheerleading right now! I typed out roughly on my phone before thrusting it across my bed in disgust.

I heard it chirp beside me as I scrambled off my bed, but chose to ignore it. The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. My dad had teased me for years about my iPhone being one of my appendages. Well, I guess it just got amputated.

I headed across the hall to see if my mom was in the guest room, but found it empty. Closing the door behind me, I set off toward the suite my parents had shared. That room appeared to be empty too, until I was startled by a faint noise coming from the closet. Treading lightly across the hardwood floors in my bare feet, I approached the closet with sudden apprehension. A rustling thud once again spooked me, making my heart skip a beat. I took a deep breath to ready myself only to be taken completely aback when I opened the doors. To say I wasn’t prepared for what I saw would be a monumental understatement.

There was my mom, huddled on the floor of my dad’s side of the closet wearing multiple layers of his clothing. She continued to reach up and pull more clothing down, sending discarded hangers ricocheting off the walls and onto the floor. As if the sight wasn’t disturbing enough, I spotted Megan, completely frightened and huddled off at the back of the closet watching my mom.

“Mom, you have to stop,” I said, kneeling down in front of her, trying to block Megan’s view.

“I can’t,” she wailed. “I miss him so much. I miss his warmth, his voice, the way he smelled,” she said, lifting his shirt to her face and inhaling deeply.

“You have to,” I emphasized, looking over my shoulder at Megan.

She looked beyond me at Megan’s wide-eyed gaze.

I grasped onto her hands, dragging her to her feet. She swayed slightly in front of me, looking a little unsteady, so I took her by the arm and lead her to her bed. “You need to rest,” I said, taking in the dark circles under her eyes as I helped her pull the extra layers of clothing off. “You look like death,” I added, instantly regretting my choice of words when she stiffened.

I gently pushed her back against the mattress and covered her up with the folded afghan at the foot of her bed. Megan stood by watching while I left the room briefly to retrieve a cup of water and the bottle of sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed.

“Here, take these,” I said, holding out two pills from the bottle.

She shook her head no.

“Yes, Mom, you need to sleep so you can start functioning.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she said stubbornly.

“You have to! We need you,” I said, once again looking at Megan.

She followed my gaze with fresh tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said to Megan, finally cupping the pills in her hand before tossing them in her mouth.

It didn’t take long for the strong narcotics to take effect and she was softly snoring. Megan and I stood side by side for a few minutes, watching her sleep before we left her room together.

“How about pizza?” I asked as we walked into the kitchen.

She stared at me silently, still shell-shocked from witnessing mom’s meltdown.

“We’ll have a pizza party in the family room, okay? We’ll watch movies, eat junk food, and paint our nails.”

My enticing offer worked and she nodded her consent.

“One-two-three-four,” I tapped out, sending the large garage rocking into our usual Thursday night jam session. I pounded out the beat on the drums. In front of me, John wailed on his guitar, Dex was killing it on bass, and Drake totally owned our small group of admirers the way he belted out our lyrics into the microphone.