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After my outburst, Mum just stared at me for a long time, the blue of her eyes slowly draining, her weariness finally showing. “Emerson,” she said, and I remember knowing that I wasn’t going to like whatever she said next. And I was right, what she said just made me madder. “I am so so sorry that your father left and that you’ve felt like that. But you have to understand that I can’t tell you everything. You have been exposed to too much at such a young age and the least I can do for you now is-”
“What? Protect me? I think it’s a bit late for that. Maybe if you wanted to protect me, you should have come and visited me, instead of staying here buying pretty dresses and getting your hair done to get rid of the grey hairs caused by your old life. At the very least, you could have sent me a postcard or something so that I could have had some closure. So I could know that you just didn’t want to see me, not that you couldn’t.”
The look on her face said what her words didn’t need to. I didn’t even intend to be correct, but the way she looked so intently at the floor when I said those words told me everything. She may have been kidnapped, but she had stayed out of her own free will. The look she gives me hurts more than her dying a thousand times over.
I expected her to break down in tears or get all defensive. I would have preferred it over what she did. If she had reacted, I would at least know that she cared enough to justify her actions.
Instead, she just got up and took a deep breath. “I am on level 125, the third door on the left when you exit the elevator.” And she left.
Chapter 6 - Emerson Clarke
Jasper walks into my hospital suite at a more reasonable hour the next morning, although I have no intention of talking to him. The conversation with Mum yesterday has completely drained me of what little desire for social interaction I had. I spent so much of last night overthinking the chat with my mum, that I hardly slept at all.
I want to pretend to be asleep in hopes that he will go away, and I will finally be able to look around this place to find a way to escape. I shut my eyes to set my plan into motion, but a sweet smell interrupts all my thoughts. My eyes betray me, and open long enough for him to know I’m awake.
“Good morning,” he smiles, but my eyes are focused on the food alone. It is a large plate with blueberries, strawberries and something that slightly resembles toast but with a checkerboard of lines on it. Drizzled over the top there is a shiny, golden syrup. I don’t know what this is, but I’m pretty sure I am drooling in desperation.
Jasper notices my hunger and places the plate in front of me. “This is waffles with strawberries, blueberries and maple syrup.” He points to everything as he says it.
“I know what strawberries and blueberries are,” I say sarcastically, but my heart’s only half in it. How could I bother staying mad when waffles exist?
I take a bite, my mouth exploding with sickly sweet goodness. The waffle itself is crunchy, but not hard. The fruit is by far the best fruit I’ve ever tasted in my life. “Wow,” I exhale without even realising.
Jasper laughs, “You like them?” I nod way more energetically than I should. “When I show you around, I’ll take you to the formal dining room where you can have waffles for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
“Trust me, this is the only thing I’ll ever eat for the rest of my life.” I exclaim through a mouthful of waffle goodness. As soon as I say it, I want to take it back. The comment sounds too conversational, too friendly. I’m not trying to make any friends here.
He smiles like he knows he’s making slow progress. That’s probably the first non-sarcastic line he’s ever heard me say. It’s not you, I want to tell him, it’s the waffles. “Well, if that happens,” he says, “I’m going to have to start calling you waffles.”
I slam the cutlery down on my plate and stop chewing. My eyes drill into his, “You are not giving me a nickname.”
“Whatever, Waffles.” He smirks. I frown.
Why does he seem so determined to crawl under my skin and irritate me with every single thing that he does?
I pick up my cutlery and continue eating in silence. Jasper takes something out of his pocket, either a stick or a pencil, and starts fiddling with it. Nobody has pencil’s anymore, so I guess he’s fiddling with a stick. Although I don’t understand where he would find a stick either. “Did you like your surprise?” he asks. When I stare at him quizzically, he clarifies, “your mum? Did you like seeing her? I didn’t know if it was too soon or-”
“You brought my mum here?” I interrupt.
“Yeah. Was that a bad idea?”
“Yeah,” I say. I stick with my rule of always telling the truth. At his disappointed face, I add, “I just didn’t expect to see her.”
When he doesn’t respond, we fall into an uncomfortable silence. “Why are you here?” I ask. I don’t necessarily care about the answer, I just want conversation. I need something else to focus on that isn’t the sound of my own head pounding against my skull.
He laughs softly, “do you mean why am I here in Calveron, or why am I here here?” he gestures to the chair that he’s seated himself in.
I shrug, “both, I guess.”
“Well, I’m here here because it’s my job.”
“To babysit me?” I laugh sarcastically.
He smiles in reply, “I wouldn’t have put it like that, but now that you mention it…” his voice drifts off and I glare at him.
“I don’t need someone to babysit me.”
“I know.” He replies, and for some reason I believe him completely.
