We've Met Before

10 - Cradle

KAIA

Cade drives me home, and it's dreadful.
The only thing I can do is stare out at the window and hope that Saturday disintegrates the way it would in a hourglass.
It's afternoon, and I hoped that we would take longer at Ottie's, but we didn't.
    We haven't talked about this summer, or ever really delved into it.
    All I can remember are his apologies when he came over to study. I want to think that he was being sincere, but that's what I thought in Florida too.
    He parks outside my home, and leaves the drivers seat, rushing to open my door.
    I step out and I feel washed over with angst.
Cade places an arm on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
"I got you. Fall back on me," He whispers.
Fall back on you.
I take a step towards the door and open the door.
"Hello? Mom?" I shout.
Silence.
"Mom!" I shout again, this time more confidently.
I walk indoors, treading and easing myself between every nook and cranny of the house. Cade watched anxiously in the living room, his hands dig deep inside his pockets.
I feel my heartbeat quicken as I enter each room.
She left. She left because of you. The same way he did.
I feel my eyes start to burn, and my head begin to ache, and my hands begin to numb.
Where is she.
I finally reach the study, and I turn the door knob.
I find my mother sitting between all the books of the office, helplessly alone. I can't help but immediately assume she's intoxicated again, but she glances at me, her sad eyes lingering on my face, and I realize she's not intoxicated at all.
She's very much sober.
Sober is when she feels the worst.
Books are sprawled open on the oak floors, and it looks like a hurricane blew everything off the shelves. Portraits have been knocked off the walls, pages ripped out from the books, and tears sucked out of my mother.
I immediately crouch down, kneeling beside her sullen figure.
"Let's get you into bed, you need some rest."
"I don't want rest," She says groggily, her voice holding so much sadness I'm afraid she'll disintegrate.
I place my hands under her shoulders, hauling her upwards as she releases her weight onto me. I drag her down the hall, and open the door with an uncomfortable hand. I drop her onto the bed and she begins sobbing.
    "Why did you bring me here? I don't want to rest." She cries into my shoulder. My shirt is starting to dampen and I can feel her eye lashes flutter on my skin.
    I hear footsteps near the door. I turn around and Cade stands between the door frame, watching the interaction intently.
    I want to cry so bad.
    The last twenty-four hours are starting to crash on me, and I don't think I can handle it.
    The initial shock of last night wears off. The sedative effect wipes clean, and a new feeling begins to immerge.
    I'm hurt.
    I'm scared, and I'm hurt, and I feel taken advantage of.
    I can't help but see my sober mother in my arms, crying into my shoulder, and feel disdain for having to handle her sorrows as well as mine.
    I feel disgusted that I feel this way.
You think you're the only one allowed to feel hurt?
    You're so full of yourself.
    I close my eyes and breathe in. I begin to crumble and Cade rushes towards me. He takes my mother and lays her down, telling her something that I can't quite bother paying attention to.
    He takes my hand and says something.
What the fuck is he saying?
    His lips move but I can't seem to make sound from them. I sit on the carpet beside my mom's bed, and try to discern what's happening. Everything looks blurry, everything seems so foreign. I see Cade's face, and his hand that's now caressing my cheek.
    He starts to carry me, taking me directly to my living room and setting me down on the couch.
    He sits beside me, setting me across his lap. He cradles me between his arms, whispering something in my ear.
I think he's whispering.
    I bring my hands to my face.
    My face is wet.
    I'm crying.
    I'm crying and my face is drowning in tears.
    I feel a little pathetic, pitiful, stupid.
    I should be helping my sobered mother who struggle to even make coherent sentences half the time.
    I'd like to think I understand her, and understand her pain, and understand her hurt, but I don't. I barely talk to the woman, or even spend time around her.
——
    I eventually told Cade he could leave.
    I was holding him up.
I locked myself inside my room and started reading. I hear my phone begin to ring and I check the caller ID.
Jane is calling...
I pick up and hold my cellphone to my ear.
"Hello?"
Please don't walk eggshells around me.
"Kaia! Where'd you go last night? We looked all over for you and Gabby said you had to leave because an emergency." She says.
Whew.
"Yes, of course. I'm so sorry I didn't call earlier, something came up and I pitched a ride home."
"I heard people saying you left with Cade. What's all that about?" Her comment sounds more of a lecture than a question.
I sigh, "Yes, he was at the party and I just needed someone to take me home." I shut my eyes. She has to believe it was just that and nothing more.
"Right..." she pauses, "I didn't even know he was coming. Apparently Jennifer invited him herself, and just completely forgot to tell any of us." I can hear her disappointment on the other side of the line, and I can't help but feel it too.
    She knew what happened over the summer, or at least part of it. I don't think I'll ever tell everyone what fully happened.
    "It's fine, but thanks for calling. I'll see you Monday at school."
    "Fine, love you!" She hangs up and I'm left with my thoughts.
    Gabby hasn't told anyone about what happened. Which is good, it's great. I'm glad I can trust her with things.
My phone rings and I check the text sent to me.
Be selfish.