A Silent Love

Chapter 7 : I may be sick, but I'm not stupid.

Mason's POV:

As I sit in my mother's room spooning greasy lo mein into my mouth, my mind continues to wander to Olivia and I zone out completely.

"Mason? Honey? The food is going to get cold if you don't stop daydreaming and eat up," my mother's teasing  voice brings me back to the real world and I return my attention to her. 

"Sorry, mom," I blush, embarrassed as she smirks at me while she stuffs her face with an eggroll. "Who is she?" 

I cough suddenly, choking on a noodle. When I finally clear my throat and wash down the half-chewed noodle with some water, I finally return her question with an intelligent response: "What?"

Her smirk widens and for a minute, I'm happy. She has a certain glow about her that can only be brought with making fun of me. 

Oh well. I'll take it. 

She places her pale hand on mine and squeezes it gently, "I may be sick, but I'm not stupid. Only a girl could make you forget about Chinese night." 

I smile back at her warmly and squeeze her hand back slightly, careful not to crush her fragile fingers, "The only girl in my life is you, mom." I bat my eyelashes and sigh, mock-dreamily. 

She starts laughing to the point of tears and I feel an overwhelming warmth that fills my chest. I stare at her and no longer do I see the IV cords stabbing into her translucent skin. I see pink cheeks from the amount of chuckling she is doing. I don't see her eyes, full of despair and pain. I see them sparkling with happiness and adoration. 

I see my mom. 

Not the person who can barely stand up without falling over in pain. 

She stops laughing and rolls her eyes at me, "You are so trying to change the subject, but I'll let it slide this ti-."

Suddenly, she starts coughing like crazy and curls into a ball, hugging her legs. 

My eyes widen as I lean over and scoop my water up from the ground and hand it to her, running my hand down her back while she sips tentatively. 

I can feel each vertebra because of how much weight she's lost over the past few months. The chemotherapy had helped, definitely, but it had left her weaker and weaker with each treatment. After our funds had been sucked dry, we were told that there was nothing more that they could do. So, instead of helping my mother get better like doctors are paid thousands of dollars to do, they gave us the boot and said good luck!

That's why every day I have been playing the guitar to try to rake in some extra cash. I had tried to get another part time job, but nobody in the area is hiring 17-year old boys who can barely clean a dish to save his life. 

Lucky for me, I have my music. 

When mom can finally speak again, she whispers, "Mason?" 

I lean in closer so she doesn't have to put so much effort into speaking. "Yes, mom?"

"I-I know you've been working hard with your music, and I wanted to thank you. You really don't have to do that." She puts her hand on my cheek admiringly before pain fills her eyes and she winces, dropping it, holding her ribs. 

"Mom, have you taken your pain meds?" I rub her arm gently, trying to comfort her as best as I can while scanning the room for the prescription bottle. 

That's the one thing the doctors actually provided for my mother. 

Pain meds. 

At least they helped a little. I knew she was still in a massive amount of pain, but the little things help, I guess.