Ties (Book 1)

24. Vacant

That Wednesday that my mother finally came back to our world, I went home at night. When I arrived, my father was working on something in his study. I knocked, and he invited me in. His round moss-colored eyes that were too big for his face followed my every movement, almost as if he thought I would pounce and attack. I sat on the wooden chair with teal cushions and looked at him with the same eyes that looked at me.

Without preamble, I began to speak. "So... Mom woke up today." His already pale face lost more color. "She can come home tomorrow." His eyes turned red and stared in fear.

"What... Will... How is she?" He couldn't decide what to tell me or what to ask.

"She's okay." I drifted my eyes down to my knotted hands in my lap. I breathed for a few seconds before continuing and raising my gaze to meet his again. "Will you go with me tomorrow to bring her here and sign the release forms?"

He opened and closed his mouth various times before speaking. His eyebrows furrowed together as he made up what to say. "Does she want me to?" His voice cracked near the end.

"I'm not sure. But I think it would be best for you to go and clear things up, decide what to do." I shrugged my shoulders in response. I really had no idea how my mother would react the next day, but they had to speak regardless of anything else.

*****

My father and I rode in silence, as Bruce drove us to the hospital. The day was cold, and the sun was struggling to break through the large gray clouds. Bruce pulled up under the entrance's roof, shielding us from the soft drizzle that had begun to intensify. We walked through the quiet hospital and went inside an elevator made up of steel and teak.

Before knocking on my mother's hospital door I raised my eyes to my father's face. His expression was etched with fear and despair. I went inside the room first, and my mother smiled brightly at me, but her joy quickly dissipated and turned into angst. Her ocean green eyes stared wide open at my father's pale face, searching for something. And for the second time in my life, I felt like an invader; they needed to be alone.

But before I made a hasty retreat, my mom reached her right hand towards me, inviting me to go to her. I went to the edge of the bed, and she asked me to sit. She was crying and started running her hands through my gold hair. We both faced my father. I felt confused, and my mother kept asking how I was and told me how much she loved me. She continued to play with my hair and my hands, while sniffling back tears.

"Mom." She didn't answer me. "Mom. Stop!" Her hands stilled in my hair. And then she put her face in her hands and began sobbing uncontrollably. I felt like a knife was jammed in my throat by simply looking at my mother cry like that. My eyes frantically fleeted to my father; he was in pain and had a broken expression. Slowly he walked towards my mom, kneeling by the bed. He grasped her wrists gently so she could stop covering her face.

She pulled away from him and yelled, "no!" She continued to weep. "Don't touch me!"

My father had been crying silently while watching my mother convulse in tears, but when she denied his advances to console her, he broke down. If I had thought that when he begged for clemency I had seen utter despair, boy had I been wrong. At that moment when he was next to my mother's bed on his knees and ululating, I saw how important my mom was to him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he cried and reiterated. "Please forgive me, my love. I... I lost control of myself. I'm getting help. I promise that will never happen again. And you know that I keep my promises, I always have."

"No you haven't! Not always," she whispered.

"My one and only broken promise. But I never broke it again, you know that. Please. I love you so much... I can't lose you. I need you like I need air." His eyes spelt desperate and passionate. I knew he meant what he said, but I wouldn't ever be able to trust him either.