The Bridge To Success

Hands

Lunchtime at Yang's.

"Stay after we eat." Yang-mama prompted Brett.

The couple had an appointment later that day with Chen-mama. Brett may have to call Eddy that he would be late. It must have been an urgent matter for Yang-mama had to stop him from leaving just yet.

Brett eyed his mom. With gaze fixed on her, as she ate her food, he thought of things that she may say or make him do. Other than some items she would suggest on the wedding preparations, no notable guess popped out of his head. He shrugged. "Okay."

As the brothers were clearing the table, "Brett," Yang-mama called his younger son. Gestured him to come to sit beside her on the couch in the living room all while she walked towards the couch herself.

"Do you have any idea what is it about?" Brett whispered to his brother.

He shook his head. "Nope. No idea," the older Yang then gathered the plates and put them on the kitchen sink, "just go." He gestured to his brother to follow their mom by pointing to the direction of the living room with his lips.

He let out a sigh and headed to where his mom was.

"Do you know that this couch is older than you?" Yang-mama asked her son as he was sitting down beside her, moving her handbag to the coffee table.

"..." Brett was silent.

She put a hand on the armrest beside her, looked longingly on the patterns, felt the fabric with her hand. "I got this as a wedding gift from your grandma." Yang-mama turned to Brett. "It's very special to me."

Brett didn't say anything. He thought that the couch was just an ordinary everyday thing that he got used to and was Yang-mama's favorite. That even it didn't match with the simple aesthetic theme of the house, she still kept it.

She smiled at him. "Well, " she took a deep breath, "it's time for me to give you something to start with." Yang-mama grabbed her bag from the coffee table and searched for an item in it.

His eyes followed his mother's hands as she looked for the item in her bag. Brett always sees his mom, in their house, but he never really looked at her.

He just noticed that she had small dark spots on the back of her hand. That the skin had visible wrinkles and veins. That the hand itself was slightly trembling, had spasms.

Brett looked away, his hands tightened into fists. He unknowingly bit his lip.

He thought of how her once smooth-skinned hands taught him how to hold a spoon and chopsticks. That her once stable hands pointed to the letters on the book as she read them out loud for him. That those very hands disciplined him when he did no good. And how those warm, gentle hands lightly tap his arm along the rhythm of the lullaby she hummed to him to sleep.

His vision turned slightly blurry, Brett quickly wiped his eyes before anyone noticed. He then looked back at his mom and smiled.

"I love you, mom."

Yang-mama looked up to his son. A grin formed on her lips. "Silly..." And she held on tightly to the item she just found. She returned the bag on the coffee table and fixed her seat. She reached for Brett's hand, put the item on it.

Brett looked down to see what the item was. It was a bank book.

"Well, I don't know what to get you so--"

His arms wrapped around his mom. Brett hugged her. "Thank you, mom." He let his tears flow. "Thank you for raising me." His hug tightened. "Thank you for everything you've done for me." Brett felt that arms returned his hug, he smiled. "Thank you for accepting me and Eddy."

She rubbed her son's back. "Thank you for being a great son," she paused. "Even though you are throwing tantrums and had silly mood swings occasionally," she let out a small laugh, "and be nice to Eddy."

Brett let go to look at his mother's face. "I am always nice to Eddy." He chuckled, "and I don't have tantrums and shit!"

Yang-mama laughed heartily. "You do!" Wiped the tears on her son's face. Pinched his cheek. "Yes, you do."

That afternoon was warm, like the hug they shared. Both the mother and son endearingly held each other, for sometimes the words and the feelings that they had are often passed by, thinking that there were always be a tomorrow or a next time.

Sometimes the best time to say "I love you" is today.