Exile | Continuation of Personalities | Nygmakins

Chapter Forty Three

The first night that Edward awakens in the new house - they had ended up choosing the cream colored one in Beachview after all - he had been emerging from a dream that seemed deceptively pleasant at first.

When it started, he found himself standing in front of the stove watching something bake that smelled like Christmas, but that wasn't what was pleasant. His mother's attention was so hard to come by and for once, her hand was on his head - just placed there - like it always was when he had done something well. It was rare indeed that he was ever able to please her, but he craved it. That day, he looked up at her, but could only see her profile.

But then before he had a chance to savor that fleeting moment, his dream morphed into the memory of her leaving him in the vestibule. In profile, she looked ashamed - he can see that now. Why was she ashamed of him? What had he done?

His stomach twists anxiously as he frantically tries to figure it out.

And he wakes up clutching it, moaning as he sits up in bed.

"Hey, you okay?" The Doc murmurs in her drunken haze. She would drink so much nowadays that it clung to her even in sleep.

"No," he answers honestly.

She sits bolt upright in bed. "Talk to me."

"My father. . ." He's having a difficult time picking something that sounds good - something that will allow him to take solace in her without revealing too much.

"What about him?" She starts rubbing his back, her hands uncoordinated due to drink - but she's trying.

"One Christmas," Edward begins. "My parents were having a Christmas party that started way past my bedtime. But, I stayed up for it anyway."

"Of course you did, you little devil." She gives him a sloppy kiss.

"I spied on them and their friends. Mom was perched on Dad's lap and laughing appreciatively at his every joke. Kissing him, even. I hadn't remembered ever seeing them kiss before. I was very young.

My mother said to her friends, 'Do you see why I married this man?'

Many of them answered in the affirmative.

She lovingly stroked his hair and tapped her finger against his chin and said, 'Hours, no, YEARS of entertainment!'

Dad enjoyed her praise as much as I did. And he was quite entertaining. I had to cover my mouth many times to squash my giggles whenever I understood one of his jokes that evening. Most of them were over my head, though. Mom praised him for his wit when he would deliver a particularly complex one - usually some kind of word play - like a riddle.

Watching them, I learned what my mom liked. What might get her attention."

Edward stops.

"And?" The Doc asks, but he's lost in a memory.

The party is over and his parents are in the kitchen arguing.

'How could you, Nash? Embarrassing me like that?'

'I didn't mean to. I had no idea that would bother you or I never would have -'

Neither had Edward. What had Daddy done? His parents had both seemed so happy with each other just minutes earlier as the last guest left.

'Now, I have to live that down. You are a social disaster, do you know that?'

'Eliza, I'm sorry -'

SLAP!

Her hand rakes across his face as Edward gasps from his hiding place in the cupboard.

'Sorry isn't good enough.'

"Edward? Edward?!" The Doc is shaking him, bringing him back to the present. She sighs and hugs him tight as he does. "We lost you again for a moment, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

He decides not to say any more and just hugs her back.