The Trap

7. Melissa

If someone were to ask me what true bliss means to me, I would tell them that it was to be in the presence of those I loved most in life, smiling, giggling, being happy. 

 I don't return to the study when Alex leaves. Instead, I make my way to the kids' room. I find Sandy and Sid engrossed in drawing and can't bring myself to disturb them. They looked happy. 

I hope their carefree smile never leaves them. 

 God, had I missed them. I stand on the threshold of their room and observe them as they move from page to page, drawing trees, shrubs, the sun, etc. 

 I knock on the door, and the kids abandon their drawings and rush over to me.

 "How is mom?" 

 "As good as is expected." I dodge the question. 

 "When can we see her?" 

 "As soon as I make sure that you are not sick."

 "We are not."

 "I am sure you aren't. But uncle Alex will be upset if I don't follow the rules. Moreover, I am sure you want to see your mom healthy again, am I right."

 After I mention Alex, the kids calm down. Both of them pull me into the room and guide me to the bed. Sandy returns with her medical kit and thrusts the toy stethoscope in my hands. She plops herself next to me. "I will go first. Go on then. Start the examination."

 I nod and start the examination while Sid looks on with a strange glint in his eyes. "It won't take long," I inform him. "I will examine you next."

 He narrows his eyes. "You are nice. Like, mom." He states and returns to his drawing: a garden with a fruit-laden apple tree. Though it's crude, it looks a lot like our backyard. 

 When I finish fake examining them, I explain to them that I would need to do further tests to supplement the ones I had done. Sandy looks on excitedly. She was always ready to try new things, while Sid fixes me with a calculating gaze. "Will it involve being poked with needles?" He demands, and I shake my head. "It will only involve getting your temperature checked."

 He gives me a curt nod. "Good." Picking up a color pencil, he adds. "Not that I am scared of needles, but dad..." he leaves the sentence incomplete and returns to his drawing. 

 Even though I wanted to know what was on his mind, I knew that pushing him to reveal it won't work. He was willful and stubborn; when he made up his mind, no one could make him budge.

 Sandy taps my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Will you be staying with us?"

 I nod.

 "I miss playing with mom. Aunty Kimmy is great, but I prefer the sandwiches mom used to make," She looks up through her lashes. "When will she get better."

 How does a mother tell her daughter that there is a good possibility that she might never be able to hold her again?

 "I don't know... Sandy, was it?" I pretend to recall her name when I notice David standing at the threshold.

 David smiles and enters the room.

Sandy reciprocates the smile. "Dad, have you come to help us with our homework? You promised us last time, remember?" She enquires hopefully.

"Perhaps, later. I need to talk to nurse Janice." David replies. "Janice?" He calls.

"Yes, David. How may I help you?"

"I would like a word." He says cryptically and leaves. I find the act a little odd.

What are you up to, David?