A Fight to Remember

To Uncharted Waters Pt. 1

Enjoy!

Two months ago:

Bailey

The scotch was strong but went down smooth, save for the bite at the end. I tilted the glass, stared at the rolling amber liquid, lost in thought and time. I was scared. Mom stroked out and it was my fault. I put her there. I didn't want to know how bad it was. Was she gorked?

Not to mention the trouble I was already in. The FDA had been notified, and despite Amelia's emergency waiver, every element of mom's treatment was going to be re-evaluated, turned over and analysed. It would be messy and complicated.

I didn't want to think. Instead I poured some more. I was three shots down the bottle already. The world around me felt blurry and light. Nothing seemed real, and that felt... good. I took another sip.

Maybe this was all just a strange dream. I'd wake up in the morning, and everything would be as it should, as it was supposed to be. Dad never disappeared, Mom wouldn't have Alzheimer's... I'd be happy. Free.

Someone knocked, pulling me away from those thoughts. I didn't answer, just took another sip, feeling the blaze of heat sliding down my esophagus.

Another knock. Louder and more insistent. It wasn't my sister's then. They'd have found a key by now.

"Go away!" I slammed the glass down.

But the knocking kept coming... Banging. "Bailey! It's me!"

Rebecca

Crap.

I thought about getting up and yanking the door open just to yell at her again. I'd shoed Amelia, and Ellis... So this should be easy, right? I stood up, ready to march to the door, but it swung open.

There she was. Rebecca stood in the soft light of the trailer, hair loose and covering the shoulders of her red Portland Thorns sweater. One hand rested on the door, propping it open, the other tucked into her back pocket. Worry creased her soft lines. And pain... for my sorry state marred her usual hopeful features.

Suddenly I had no fight in me. The snarl, "what are you doing here?" came out as a snivel. I planted my face into my palms and rubbed my eyes, defeated by her simple presence.

"Bailey..." she looked around the place. A sigh loosed from her lips at the state the trailer was in. Empty pizza boxes, unwashed dishes, bottles of beer, clothes scattered about. A mess. I couldn't look at her. Why was she here? Was this about work? The Chief had told me to come to her office in a week... to discuss my future. Did Rebecca know something? Shame creeped up, I shuffled to the couch and sat down. I didn't want her to see me like this. "Your mom-" she kicked a pizza box out of her path and sat down beside me.

Mom? "She's dead?"

"What? No. She's awake." Rebecca said. She put a hand on my thigh. "She's asking for you."

No, I shook my head. Mom didn't remember me. She had a stroke. Ellis said-

Rebecca grabbed my wrist and pried my fingers open. Something soft and worn found its way inside my hand. The ferryboat scrubcap.

"She wanted me to give it to you," Rebecca explained.

I stared, thinking. Mom was awake? Thinking of me?

"Look- um, you should see her. She misses you. She's had a rough couple of days, but she's doing better."

"Yeah?" I couldn't help the edge of hope in my voice. Did something actually go right? She wasn't gorked?