“But...” she looked at her hands, her feelings pouring throughher body language, her shoulders hanging low and defeated. “What if she comes back?”
“She’s not,” I said, sure now more than ever after putting it together that It had been my parents calling all the time, not my sister. “Not back there, at least. I think it’s pretty damn clear by now.”
She fell silent, admonished by an answer I’m sure she wasn’t wanting to hear. And I felt bad. She’d always been so soft-spoken when it came to speaking up to Dad. A strong-willed woman with no voice. It was sad. Sad enough that me, her son, had recognized it even at a young age and started speaking up for her. She was probably waiting for me to do the same now. Desperately hoping for someone to stand their ground for her. But I just couldn’t.
Awkward silence stretched, her looking at her hands and me looking at her. She looked so unchanged, the same as the day I’d last seen her.
“Can I…” She stopped, peeking up and back down again. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Are you going to come home?” she asked. My face must have morphed into the equivalent of an animal skittering away because she quickly added, “Not forever. Just to visit.”
“Visit what?”
“Me,” she said. “Please?
“Ma—”
“Or I could visit you! Wherever you are I’ll come, I just—I miss you. Dad does too but I know you don’t want to hear that. I miss both my babies and if I have to live without one, I want to at least be on speaking terms with the other. Please, I just want to see you. I love you.”
And that’s what made it so hard to be so utterly done with her. She wanted to see me. She loved me. She’d kept up with me quietly for ten years without contacting me until she needed myhelp. Respecting my wishes until absolutely necessary. Being patient, and strong, and much more resilient than anyone expected her to be. She carved a hole into my chest the size of herself every time I spoke to her. She was a weakness of mine, without a doubt.
But she was also a bridge. If I spoke to her, I would slowly but surely start sinking back into her world. Our family. Him. And what kind of stand would I have taken for Mar, who was on her own, if I just came crawling right back to mommy after feeling a little lonely?
“I don’t know if I can do that, Mom,” I said.
“Auggie,” her voice broke. “It’s been so long. I’m not getting any younger. I don’t want to die like this. Estranged from you. Barely talking to your father. Mourning your sister. It’s no way to live.”
Pain shot through every inch of me at the thought of what she just said. Sure, I’d been away from her, but I’d known she was okay. The thought of her being gone was painful. The thought of her being gone forever was excruciating.
Slowly, I said, “Give me your phone, please.”
She fumbled but did it quickly. And before I knew what I was doing I was checking her contacts list for my cell number. Surprisingly, she didn’t have it. Which was weird, since I was sure it must have been her calling me all this time. Maybe she was using a special kind of phone or operating through a private investigator. I’d have to ask Clay’s brother about the options. For now though, I focused on controlling my shaking fingers as I added my number, saving myself as “Auggie.”
Passing the phone back to her, I pointed to it like a reprimanding parent. “My number. No one else gets this, understand?”
She nodded fast, her eyes welling with tears. “And I can use it?”
I sighed. “Let me think about it, alright. Give me a little bit to wrap my head around it.”
“And you’re staying here? In this place? You’re not leaving again?” she asked.
An image of the best smile flashed behind my eyes and the pain I was feeling just intensified. All thoughts that I’d pushed aside for later surfacing now. To my mom I just sighed.
“For now, Mom. I don’t know about the future.”
In the old days this would never happen. We never interacted like this. I had always made it my sole mission to make my mom and my sister smile and make my dad proud. We’d be laughing if things hadn’t changed. She’d be scolding me about my tattoos but secretly she’d be proud. We’d be better. But now—now we were this. And somehow through the course of us talking I’d gone from not wanting to talk to her at all to not wanting her to leave like this.
Which was a sure sign that I was losing my mind.
Patting the table, I forced myself to lift from my seat. “Alright, time to go. I have clients soon.”
“Oh, okay.” She lifted too, scooping her purse out of her lap and swinging it over her shoulder. When she stood up straighter, her arms spread wide again and my heart broke. So did my smile.
“You’re a trip,” I said as I closed my arms around her.
She seemed frailer than she used to be. Smaller. But isn’t that how things went? You grow while your parents who once seemed like giants finally came into full view. It spooked me seeing this woman in full view the first time. Seeing how much she couldn’t do to protect us—wouldn’t, out of fear.
