A Dangerous Liaison

-11-

Kita

Tuesday

Ma sat quietly at her dressing table, wearily applying makeup with a lack of care that was unlike her. Usually, by this hour, she would have already completed her morning routine, but it was well past four in the afternoon, and the day had slipped away from her. Star closed the door gently behind them, holding Kita's hand as they approached their mother. Ma didn't notice them at first, and when she did, the only response she could manage was a faint smile.

She had driven them away all week, screaming at them to leave every time they tried to see her.

The room was dark, stale, and thick with the smell of unwashed linen. Star moved around quietly, making the bed and picking up clothes from the floor with a practiced efficiency. Kita had never seen their mother like this before, and the sight filled him with a deep, unsettling fear. She was a shadow of her former self - depressed, barely eating, and refusing to speak to her children. It pained him, just as it did Star, to see her drowning in her grief. Her once-beautiful face was paler, frail with deep lines, her eyes hollow with dark circles beneath them. Her hair, unwashed and tangled, was pulled back in a messy ponytail.

Kita placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering comfort. After a moment, Ma reached up to pat his hand, but she remained silent. As Kita glanced around the room, he noticed Star standing on Pa's side of the bed, her fingers tracing the creases on his pillow. The pain in her eyes was unmistakable, but Kita didn't interrupt her. He understood her grief - he felt it just as deeply.

Yet, the pills dulled his pain; they created a buffer, allowing him to sleep at night, to escape the traumas and the nightmare of reality. The numbness they provided was a relief, so much so that he found himself taking more than the prescribed dose just to maintain that oblivion. One pill in the morning helped him get through the day without thinking about Pa, Mee, or his own insecurities. A few more before bed ensured he slept without a single thought to disturb him.

And if he called Sand, the effect was even more comforting.

Ma shifted in her seat, reaching for a bottle of perfume. Kita tried to help, but she waved him off, insisting she could manage. Slowly, she applied it to her wrists and neck. "Ma, how are you?" Kita asked softly, his thumb brushing lightly over her shoulder. Star leaned in, kissing her gently on the head.

"Ma," she said, hugging her from behind. "I've come home to visit you."

Their mother offered no verbal response, but the faint sparkle in her eyes was enough to reassure them that today she welcomed their presence. "Come," Kita said, taking her arm gently. "Let's sit on the bed - it's more comfortable."

She didn't resist as they carefully helped her up and guided her to the bed. Her steps were slow and light, forcing Star and Kita to support her frail frame. She was weak, a fact that deeply worried Kita. He glanced at the untouched breakfast tray on her nightstand. "Are you hungry, Ma? Should I send for some lunch?"

"No, dear," she whispered. "Just stay with me, please."

Star exchanged a concerned look with Kita. "Are you sure, Ma? There's nothing else we can do for you?"

Their mother sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the wall opposite her. Then, in a voice so quiet it was barely audible, she mumbled, "Bring him back." Her lips trembled as she repeated, "Bring Somchai back."

That was when Star broke down, her sobs muffled as she buried her head on Ma's shaking shoulder. Kita watched them cry in each other's arms, but he couldn't shed a tear himself. The weight of his grief was there, but the pills kept it at bay, numbing the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.