Five Minutes

In The Dark

The entire atmosphere after Veronica's exchange with her mother was awkward. And she knew both her father and Ralston could sense it too, because they both kept staring her with quizzical and confused expressions because remained silent on the matter. Her mother was being chatty otherwise; she asked Ralston how his career was coming along.

"It's, uh, going great," he replied, giving her a smile Veronica knew was forced. "But I've been taking some time off. It's been nice."

At least it had been reserved for after they'd consumed their meals. But it was still tension inducing. Her mother wasn't speaking to her at all. Maybe she was afraid that if she did Veronica would lash out at her again. She didn't even look in Veronica's direction even once. It was like she didn't even know that her daughter was in the same room as her.

When she and Ralston lay in bed in the guest room at the end of the night, he turned to her. "That was... something," he said.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with it. My mom can be dramatic. That's... her thing."

"Do you think she's really being dramatic?" he asked.

She stared at him, reflecting on the actual truth. "No... but I didn't want to talk about it with her tonight. I know she's just being... a mom. I'd probably be the same way in her shoes." She didn't know how she'd handle it, truthfully, but the thought of having a daughter who suffered that kind of trauma caused a bad tightness in her chest.

"Don't you think you should apologize to her then?" Ralston asked her. "She deserves one, doesn't she?"

The question made her release a sigh. It wasn't because she was annoyed at Ralston for making that suggestion. The whole situation was complicated and frustrating. And she hated that she couldn't even get it out of her brain for a day. The incident was now a large part of her identity now.

"I'll do it tomorrow," she said. "It's a little late now."

He raised his eyebrows at her weak excuse for delaying the apology and shifted onto his back.

Veronica closed her eyes, replaying the conversation and allowing more guilt to overtake her. It made her think back to when she first told her parents and how sad her mother was; how much she'd cried over what happened.

With these images lingering in her mind, she dreamed of her mother crying. For what she was crying about, Veronica didn't know. But the image of it was unsettling. Her mother was in a chair, sobbing and with tears streaming down her face. And Veronica's father wasn't there to comfort her. Veronica stood, watching and aggressively yelling at her to stop. But it didn't help; the sobbing simply grew louder. It only made Veronica angrier, demanding in a harsher tone that she stop. Her mother was so broken and fragile and upset.

There was an annoying prominent and screeching noise in Veronica's ears, which jerked her out of her sleep. Someone was using the blender in the kitchen. It kept stopping and starting up again.

Ralston wasn't on his side of the bed; she wasn't sure when he'd woken up, but she hadn't even noticed any rustling.

Noticing she was too awake to fall back into sleep, she rose, headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower, before strolling out of the room to see Ralston helping her parents prepare breakfast. They must have used to the blender to create the pancake mix.

They all looked at her when she approached the kitchen island. It made her a bit paranoid. It was like one of those moments where people were caught talking behind someone else's back, only to see them rearing around the corner and potentially hearing the negative words.

She doubted it was the case now, but it certainly felt like it. With three pairs of eyes right on her.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said.

"It's... all right," her mother spoke. The grin on her face looked sincere.

"This smell is making me hungry!" Veronica exclaimed, sitting on one of the stools. She would have asked if they needed any more assistance though it appeared that the food was close to finished.

"I made your favourite," her father said. "Blueberry pancakes!"

Veronica smiled. Her parents hadn't made her blueberry pancakes for breakfast in a long time. Not since she was in high school and still lived under their roof.

She dug in the moment the plate was placed in front of her. "Well, shit. This is amazing!" Her had to cover her mouthful of food with her hand. She would make these kinds of pancakes herself regularly, but her father's were significantly more fluffy and delectable. He'd even given her the recipe a few years ago after she asked for; yet she never managed to perfect the taste to match his.

The day was not at all confrontational and went by swimmingly. Veronica and Ralston helped her parents with cooking both lunch and dinner. Then they watched a few family friendly, happy films because admittedly none of them where in the mindset to watch anything depressing. They tuned into Planes, Trains and Automobiles, one of her father's favourite films, and You've Got Mail, which her mother adored. And several others.

She went to bed in a much better headspace than the previous night. Even when she was younger she never liked fighting with her mother. They never had a bad or toxic relationship so rather than reeling over arguments they had, she always found herself buried deep in remorse. And she never liked it. Her mother wasn't going to change; her personality was well established and like most mothers, she worried about her child. It didn't matter if Veronica was nine or twenty nine. To her parents she was forever a little girl who need to be protected.

And she didn't have any strange dreams of her mother hurt and crying.