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I nodded and kissed Jake on the cheek before helping Will guide my mother into the building’s elevator.
When we entered her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and went straight to her bedroom. I followed hesitantly, unsure if she wanted to be alone.
She curled into the bed on her side and lay there quietly. I turned to let her sleep.
“Don’t go,” she called back in a soft voice. “Not yet.”
My throat swelled, and I had difficulty swallowing the lump that had formed. I’d never seen my mother like this. She was always the one who took care of us. It was terrifying, but I got on the bed next to her, wrapped my arm over her shoulders, and stayed with her until she closed her eyes.
I closed mine too, but I didn’t sleep. All the events of the day flickered through my mind. Different scenarios, different ways things could have gone wrong, and in each one I couldn’t imagine going on without either my mother or Jake in my life. They’d both been a pain in my ass, and now I couldn’t imagine my world without them.
I held my mother a little tighter.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Mom,” I said. “I should apologize for not taking this situation more seriously from the beginning. But I was stubborn and wanted to prove I didn’t need my mother anymore.”
“No. You were trying to be an adult. I haven’t really allowed you to be your own person. I know that. It’s just that in my mind, you’ll always be my little girl. You and me against the world forever.”
My body stiffened. I didn’t want it to. It’s just she started saying that after my father left and while the words were meant to be reassuring, they always made me feel empty or a little lost.
“What is it, sweetheart?” she asked, sitting up on the bed. I straightened beside her and she held my hand as we stared out the window.
“It’s nothing,” I said. Now wasn’t the time to discuss my father. She’d been through so much. I shouldn’t burden her with the past.
“You can talk to me. You really can. When I was tied up in that barn, despite the fog in my head, one thing was very clear: I wanted to build on our relationship. I want to communicate instead of lecture you. And maybe I can listen from time to time,” she smiled weakly and patted my hand.
“That would be nice, Mom.”
I imagined how different my life would be if I weren’t arguing with my mother. If I didn’t feel the need to push back all the time and listen instead. So much energy was lost in us arguing.
“Now, tell me what’s bothering you,” she said.
I tilted my head up and stared at the ceiling. My body started to panic whenever I thought about my dad and I didn’t want to bring him up because I didn’t want to hurt my mother, but I also knew bringing him up always made me cry.
“It’s about dad,” I said.
“Your father?” She sat up and turned to look at me. “What does he have to do with anything?”
“A lot, I think.”
My mother shook her head next to me, but she settled back down, still holding my hand.
“Why did dad leave?”
“I’ve told you why many times.”
“Yes, you said he couldn’t handle being second to a successful woman.”
“That’s right.”
“But I don’t think that’s the whole truth. Why did he leave me?”
My mother’s hand trembled, and I squeezed it. My stomach twisted and turned, and I wanted to vomit. I was sure she felt just as sick as I did bringing up the past.
“Mom? Why did he never try to contact me after the divorce?”
“I’ve told you. He remarried and moved on with his life with his perfect new family.” Her voice held the same contempt it always did when she spoke of him.
