I sighed dreamily and leaned against the doorframe, pressing my finger to my lips as I watched him walk off. I’d never imagined that I would be able to feel this happy again, not after being so low for the last three years. Funny how one person can come into your life and turn the whole thing upside down.
About halfway to his car, Jamie turned. “Hey, want to get a late lunch or something after you’ve been to the hospital?” he called out, walking backward to his car.
I nodded eagerly. “Sure.”
“I’ll call you,” he replied. I waved good-bye and closed the door as he leaned down and began talking to Ed. As I turned, I came face-to-face with Kelsey, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs with her arms folded across her chest, one eyebrow arched knowingly.
I jumped and let out a little squeal. I thought we’d been incredibly stealthy. Clearly not.
“Morning.” I hoped she’d just arrived and hadn’t seen anything.
“Was that Jamie I just saw sneaking out of your bedroom?”
Well, shit. “Um...yeah,” I answered, not wanting to lie. “We got back together.” She frowned, her eyes dropping to the floor, and I wondered how much she knew from before and how much she had overheard about our breakup. She’d only been ten at the time, but she understood and heard a lot more than she let on. “He makes me so happy, Kels. I love him, I always have.”
Her lips pursed in thought, and then she nodded in acceptance. “He’s your zing.”
I raised a quizzical eyebrow. “My zing?”
She nodded, smiling now. “Yeah, have you not seen the movie Hotel Transylvania?”
I smiled in understanding. I had seen that movie with Toby’s kids, who had it on DVD. A “zing” was what they called it when you met the one you were supposed to be with, your soul mate. According to the movie, you only zinged once in your life. “He is my zing,” I confirmed, nodding.
She nodded, too. “I’m happy for you if he makes you happy.”
“He does,” I promised, even though happy didn’t even come close. Complete was more like it. I stepped forward and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, nodding toward the kitchen, where the smell of bacon wafted out tantalizingly. “Let’s go get some food and then visit Mom, yeah?”
* * *
At the hospital later that morning, Mom was already up and in a wheelchair, sitting by the side of her bed staring absentmindedly out the window that overlooked nothing but the brick wall of another building. My heart went out to her, seeing her so still, so lost in her thoughts like that. She didn’t even look up or notice when we entered the room.
“Mom?” Kelsey said, walking to her side and crouching so they were almost at the same level.
“Hi,” she said stiffly, dragging her eyes away from the window and looking around at each of us in turn as she shifted in her wheelchair, her broken leg jutting out in front of her on the footrest. She looked so different from the woman I’d had a heartfelt conversation with just a couple of days ago. She looked lost and so sad that it hurt to witness. The doctor said there’d be good days and bad, but I hadn’t expected her to go from the open and loving woman to this zoned-out emptiness in just a matter of days.
“Morning, Ruth. Are you hungry?” Nana rustled through her tote bag, pulling out cartons of food she’d prepared and setting them to the side. She popped the lid off one and held it out to my mom, offering her one of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls that were inside. “I know hospital food isn’t up to scratch, so I’ve made you a few things you like,” she said, smiling warmly at her daughter-in-law.
“Thanks, Betty.” Mom’s hand came out, taking one, her eyes still glazed over and vacant. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, but it wasn’t a genuine one. It was like she was trying to put on a brave face, pretend she was fine, but everyone could see she wasn’t. The light in her eyes had gone out, the life in them deflated and lost. I had no idea how to help her.
While Mom absentmindedly picked at her pastry, shredding it into little pieces and dropping them into a napkin Nana had given her, the door opened and the doctor stepped in. He smiled at us as he walked over to Mom’s side, picking up her chart on the way past.
“Good morning, Ruth. How are we feeling today?” he asked.
“Fine,” she answered flatly.
He didn’t seem affected by her tart answer. He pulled out his penlight and leaned in, checking her pupil dilation, making her follow the light. He took her blood pressure and checked the wound on her head and then announced that she was doing great and healing up nicely.
He was right, she was getting stronger every day. Her bruises had now all but gone, so it was just the broken bones and emotional damage that were left in the accident’s wake. I nodded, watching him scribble on her chart.
He turned to me and smiled. “I was speaking to Ruth about it earlier, and I think she’ll be well enough to discharge tomorrow, or certainly the day after if you have preparations to make at home to accommodate the wheelchair,” he said, hooking the chart onto the end of the bed and turning back to my mom. “I’m sure you’re eager to get home and sleep in your own bed, right, Ruth?” he asked, his tone warm as he winked at her and then turned for the door.
I watched him leave, a smile in my heart because she would be coming home and I could take care of her properly instead of having to leave her here on her own each day. “That’s great news,” I said, turning to smile at my mom, expecting her to be happy about it. But when I looked at her, my eyes widened in surprise.
She was shaking her head adamantly, her hands clenched into tight fists, tears leaking from her eyes.
I gasped and rushed to her side, dropping to my knees next to her. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, reaching out and placing a hand on the side of her face, wiping a stray tear away.
“I don’t want to,” she croaked, shaking her head fiercly. “I don’t want to!” Her voice rose, panic detectable in her tone.
I gulped, confused as I rested my hands on her thighs, squeezing supportively to try to get her to snap out of it. “You don’t want to what?”
Her eyes widened and latched onto mine as her features twisted with anguish. “Home. I don’t want to go home.”
I frowned, looking up at my nan
a for some help or some sort of explanation for this outburst, but she appeared just as clueless as me. “Why not?” I asked, cocking my head to the side and regarding my mom worriedly.
“It’s too much, too many memories. Michael...” Her crying increased at the same rate as her desperation as she reached out and grasped my hands, squeezing tightly, her eyes pleading with me. “I can’t. I can’t go there. I don’t want to! Ellison, please?”
Her reasoning hit me like a freight train; my heart squeezed in sympathy. She didn’t want to return to the family home where all his stuff was, his clothes and belongings. The memories of him would be too strong for her to deal with in her fragile state. She might be healing physically, but emotionally she was still broken and wounded.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Mom,” I soothed, pushing myself up and hugging her, feeling her body tremble with sobs against mine. “No one’s going to make you go home if you’re not ready, it’s okay,” I whispered, stroking her hair like she used to do for me when I was sick.
“I don’t want to go back there. How could I live there without him? I couldn’t,” she sobbed against my shoulder.
I looked desperately at Nana, wondering what we were going to do. She couldn’t stay in the hospital if they wanted to discharge her; they probably needed her bed for someone else. But I couldn’t make my mom go back to the family home if she wasn’t ready to face it all and deal with it.
Nana had tears shining in her eyes as she stepped forward and set her hand on my mom’s shoulder. “You don’t have to,” she said reassuringly. “You can come and stay with me for as long as you want. I have plenty of room for everyone. I rattle around that house on my own, it would be lovely to have some company.”
My mom’s eyes widened as she looked up at Nana, her lip trembling. “Really?”
Nana bent and planted a soft kiss on the top of my mom’s head. “Of course. I would love to have you stay. You don’t ever have to go back to your house if you don’t want to.”