What We Deserve

Part 68: Learning Acceptance

By the time everyone settled down, had dinner and began to crash, my mum came home.  She had been out all day doing God knows what and now, as I tuck Joel into bed, in the downstairs study- I hear her stir.

"In the morning, we'll get you a bath and do something about your hair. Okay? But for now, just relax and go to bed- alright?" I say as I fold the comforter I just pulled from the dryer, over him. I had put down a new sheet on Max's old couch and gave him a fresh pillow as well. As he snuggles down into the warm velvety blanket, he smiles softly up at me.

"Thank you, Miss Helen." He sweetly says. Leaning forward, I press a soft kiss to his forehead and move my hand over his hair so it's away from his face. He stares up at me with those big blue eyes and they pain me so.

"Of course, Dear. You're safe here."

"Max doesn't want me...does he?" He had such high hopes for Max.

He longs for another father who was promised to him.

"It's complicated. Nothing you need to worry yourself over though. If you need anything in the middle of the night, my bedroom is up the stairs and straight. Bathroom is just down this hall. Alright?"

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Joel." I leave him another chaste kiss on his forehead and I leave, shutting the door behind me. As I do, I find my mum sitting at the kitchen table, looking at the dishes in the sink. "Evening."

"Good evening."

"How was your night?" I ask as I begin the dishes. She sits quietly on her stool and sips some tea in a to-go cup from some place.

"Good. Yours?"

"Interesting. I...um...I have a guest here. It's a long complicated story, but I'm handling it as much as I can." I say and she looks at me curiously.

"Does Max know?"

"Max knows and...and that's why he's sleeping somewhere else tonight." I really don't wish to discuss all of this with my mother because she will only nag and make this whole thing harder.

"Oh. This is serious."

"Very."

"Should I stay somewhere else tonight as well?"

"No. Certainly not." I say and wave her off and she just nods as she takes another sip.

"Who is this guest?"

"A young boy named Joel. He's 10 and..."

"Helen."

"Mum, he needs help—asked Max for it and well...you see where he is." I mumble under my breath as I put two clean dishes in the dishwasher for extra sanitization.

"What kind of help?"

"It's a very long and sad story- the run down?"

"Certainly."

"He's from a cult. His father wants him out of it so he's safe- met Georgia a while before she died- I believe this man is Luna's real father- and Georgia promised if anything happens- she and Max would take Joel in as their own. The arrangement was made behind Max's back, but the father didn't know that Georgia passed nor refrained from informing Max about the boy and now he's here. Scared and needing us." I'm waiting for my Mum to be judgemental and cold.

However, she simply nods her head in acceptance.

"What if they come looking for him?"

"They think he died. The father was supposed to come get him after a few days of him fighting or cleaning up whatever mess he had too. He hasn't. I assume- and so does Joel- that he died. So he really doesn't have anywhere or anyone." I sadly state as I finish the last three dishes and begin the wash cycle. Turning around as the machine whirs, I look at my mother and wish I knew what to do. "You think I'm barmy. Don't you?"