Planted

Chapter 7 I will always love you?

One late afternoon, Jan and I were chatting by Tommy's bed as he napped.

"Ah. My boy's always been stunning asleep. His calm stillness, serenity envelopes him, don't you think?"

"Huh? Yah sure."

"Any girl would fall for him, don't you think? He's so adorable..."

"Ma, stop. I can't sleep if you keep on..." said Tommy popping open an eyelid.

"Don't listen then. Woman to woman. Sandy you mustn't just judge him only by looks. It's not fair... Logan is unnaturally handsome. My son's personality, kindness and reliability... he is so much like me right? Objectively, don't you think he's a great catch?"

"You don't have to answer that. I apologise for my mother," he said giving Jan the evil eye.

"It's alright, all Asian mothers are the same--wanting their kids to settle down, form their own little family unit. I used to tell my late mum, it's not about how appealing you are or how many eligible people you meet. It's about falling for someone at the same time as they fall for you."

"You sound very experienced, for someone so young."

"Nah, completely theoretical from period novels."

"I'm more like stringy cheese, mozzarella. Once I decide who to stick with, I may melt under heat but it only makes for a more delicious meal in the end. Truth is stranger than fiction, you know."

"For me, it's about trusting a gut feel and then letting logic take over before allow my emotions to flow, kids."

"Thanks for the warning ma, but it's too late for me I'm afraid," said Tommy closing his eyes again.

"He's been through so much pain, my poor baby," said Jan patting his shoulders. His mom was ever so gently nurturing like a warm drizzle on a simmering hot day.

A shrill peep broke the sweetness of the moment. My phone rang and I quickly left the room to pick up.

"Darling, you didn't call back. I was worried that you've been hit by a truck," said Christopher.

"Sorry dear, lot's on. As I recall, you had something to ask?"

"Yes...um it's hard to put into words. Is Logan with you? Is he listening in?"

"No, he isn't," I squealed the answer when a bunch of Tommy's nieces and nephews group hugged my knees. "Gotta go. And Chris, if you find it so hard to say it, just text me."

I tickled my way out of the tight hug of tiny limbs and ushered them all into the room. No more sleep for Tommy.

That evening, after dinner at Logan's apartment, he said, gently grabbing his guitar on one hand, "Don't kill me but he's faking it". We were in his lounge, for the first time in three months. With my visits to the hospital and his community service, we hadn't seen much of each other for ages. We had spent the whole dinner catching up.

"The only reason why you can say that, is because you haven't met him yet. You're being twisted."

"Am not. Think about the times he's relapsed. Spot the pattern. Every time you try to distance yourself..."

"But, it doesn't make sense. Why he would do such a thing? His family and doctors are genuinely worried and I'm sure he has a life to go back to."

"Look, I don't think he is doing it consciously okay? I think if I had a girl as beautiful and sweet as you feeling all guilty and visiting me and holding my hand, I would press pause on my life and enjoy the moment for as long as possible. Honey, you really have no idea the effect you have on men."