Burn

CHAPTER 2

Balancing the china tray with its various plates and cups was a difficult affair, and it made knocking on Gloria's door a far more strenuous activity than it should've been, but Carter was thankful for the distraction. When Gloria's strained, "Come in," sounded through the wood, Carter was too busy struggling through the doorway to properly worry about the state he'd find his mother in.

It was such a good distraction, in fact, that Carter found himself reluctant to set the tray down. Instead, he hovered awkwardly at the end of Gloria's bed, shifting the occasional spoon when it attempted to slide onto the carpet.

"Good morning," his mother chirped, propping herself up against the headboard. Disappointment seized Carter in an iron grip, but before he could open his mouth to correct her, Gloria gave a shake of her head and offered a sheepish smile. "I suppose good afternoon would be more fitting."

Relief was a sweeping force through Carter's mind, and he bit back a grin as he rounded the bed.

"Good afternoon," he said dutifully, easing the tray onto the bedside table. He clicked on a nearby lamp and set about placing a napkin across Gloria's lap and arranging the plates and cutlery into an appealing set-up. "Did Dr. Hawthorn stop by today?"

"She did." Gloria reached for a cup of tea and began spooning teaspoons of sugar into it. After a few moments of stirring, she took a small sip and smiled in approval. Carter could feel his heart beating against his chest as she settled back and balanced the cup in her hands. "We spoke for a few hours. She stayed for lunch."

Carter, who'd been spooning sugar into his own tea, sat up so abruptly he almost knocked his cup over. "You had lunch?"

Gloria smiled a close-lipped, teasing smile over the rim of her cup. "Oh dear, don't tell me you wanted that last can of soup."

Carter was so surprised it startled a laugh out of him. "No, that's alright. I'll survive."

Gloria paused mid-sip and stared out at him, gaze intent and thoughtful. Carter stared as she sat forward and ran gentle fingers through his hair, pushing his fringe from his eyes. "Yes," she murmured, voice so soft Carter almost had to strain to hear her. "You will, won't you?"

They stared at each other in heavy silence for several minutes, the only sound the thump of Carter's heartbeat in his ears.

Then Gloria withdrew with a contented sigh and took a long gulp of tea, her thumb stroking the bottom of the cup in slow, indiscernible patterns. "So, how was school?"

They sat together and they finished their tea as Carter recounted his day, occasionally exaggerating elements in hopes of drawing another smile from Gloria. He wasn't really listening to the words as they left his mouth, though, but was instead scrutinising his mother with as much subtly as he could muster.

Gloria was doing better since her time in the hospital; she was eating consistently, showering semi-regularly, and saw her new psychiatrist, Dr. Hawthorn, several times a week. She still had plenty of bad days, which was to be completely expected, but her good days seemed to be gradually increasing. It buoyed Carter to see her like this, chatting away and smiling and nodding.

It didn't stop him from worrying about her, though. Even now, he couldn't stop studying her, searching for signs of distress. Every expression that twitched across her face, every small gesture and nod, all of it he filed away to consider later in the privacy of his own room.

Finally, Gloria yawned and set down her cup. Carter stood at once and began gathering up the dirty dishes, piling them together on the tray as he worked.

"I'll leave you to get some rest, Mum," He said, already crossing the room to the door. Gloria still tended to tire easily, and Carter was loathe to discourage his mother from their daily afternoon tea by exhausting her. "I'll bring dinner up in a few hours."