by Mindy Hayes
“Now that we’ve done a little more remodeling I think Sawyer wants to christen it or something. I don’t know. Just come so I have someone to talk to.”
I laugh. “Of course, man.”
They still have their Christmas lights up around the outside of the house. There are about ten cars in the driveway when I get there, and I wonder who else besides her family would be here.
“Aiden,” Sawyer says warmly when she opens the door, her hand resting on the small of her back. Music plays softly in the background. “Dean’s going to be so happy you made it.”
“He’s why I’m here.” I chuckle.
“What am I? Pond scum?”
I kiss her cheek and step inside. “It’s always good to see you, Sawyer.”
“Alix should be here soon.” She closes the door. “I convinced her to bring her mom and Brooks with her. She wasn’t happy about it, but you know what? I don’t care.” Sawyer laughs. “It’s good for her.”
I nod. “Amen to all of that.”
“Dean’s probably stationed himself around the food with Gina’s husband, Donavan. I assume that’s another reason you came.”
“Food is always a motivator.”
It looks like Sawyer invited everyone from high school who’s still living here. Lots of their girlfriends from when they played volleyball and some other random people. Now I see why Dean really wanted me here. The male to female ratio is vastly off balance.
About twenty minutes later Alix shows up with her mom and Brooks. Ms. Fink stands beside her with a smile on her face that makes me think she’s smiling to keep from appearing awkward. She looks lost and uncomfortable. Alix holds her hand and guides her into their living room to sit on the couch by Gina and Nora, Sawyer’s mom. They have the New Year’s Eve in Times Square on the TV. Sawyer leads Brooks into one of the rooms off the living room where he can play video games.
“Hey,” Alix says to me, out of breath. And dips a chip in the salsa.
“Been running around?”
“Ha.”
“She looks good,” Sawyer says encouragingly.
“She won’t last long. It’s not a good day.” Alix shoves another chip in her mouth.
“Well, it’s New Year’s. It’s good to be around family and friends.”
Alix nods and curls a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah.” She sighs. “I know. It’s why I’m here. It’s just been a long day.” She looks back at her mom who’s scrutinizing Gina and Nora as they try to have a conversation with her. Alix’s eyes droop. I wonder how many days she’s had that don’t feel long.
I want to be able to hug her and take on her tension, let me absorb it so she can relax for one night. Alix grabs another chip full of salsa. “You want me to get you your own bag? Maybe Sawyer has a special platter. We can put chips on one side and salsa on the other so you can have your own personal tray.”
She shoves my shoulder, hiding a smile, and I laugh. That’s all I’m looking for.
Around ten o’clock Ms. Fink becomes agitated, or I suppose scared is a better word. It’s like she’s in a constant state of paranoia. I can only imagine what’s going on inside her head and how nerve-racking it must be to one minute think you know where you are and the next have your world turned upside down. Gina offers to take her and Brooks home so Alix can stay. Alix reluctantly agrees and kisses them goodbye.
Not long after they leave, I hear Alix take a small intake of breath, and my head whips around to make sure she’s okay. She says to Sawyer, “You invited Lily?”
“I just wanted to be nice,” she replies. “She turned me down. Said she’s preparing to move and doesn’t have time for much else, but she thanked me and then we hung up. It was her gentle way of saying, ‘we’re cool, but not that cool.’”
“Dude,” I hiss.
Dean’s eyes say, “Don’t even get me started.”
“Well, she didn’t come and I suppose that’s all that matters,” I say.
Once the countdown begins, Alix and I share a look. I wiggle my eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes, but she’s biting back a smile. She watches the TV, biting her bottom lip as the ball slowly drops, and I watch her. When the clock reaches zero everyone cheers. She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. I lean in, taking my chances, and she gives in. I kiss her softly and pull away. “Happy New Year, Squid,” I whisper.
“Happy New Year, Aiden.”
ALIX
MOVING DAY COMES before we’re ready. Or before I’m ready. Brooks has kept to himself for the last few weeks, and I’ve let him have his space. I know he’s not ready either, but I don’t think this is something any of us could ever be ready for.
I’ve packed all of Mama’s life into a few suitcases, knowing I can bring her more if need be. Something to decorate her room to make it more hers, to feel like a home and not a hospital room. But it hurts thinking the sum of what she can bring fits into a few suitcases.
The three of us walk into the facility: Mama walking with unease, Brooks looking even more unsure about this than ever, and me, trying to hold us all together.
A nurse escorts us to her suite—as they call it—and we drop off her stuff. I mechanically unzip her suitcases. Not thinking. Just doing. Pulling out clothes and picture frames, I put them where I think it makes sense. I place her lavender perfume on her nightstand. I hardly look at her. I can’t. If I do, I’ll break. I can’t break yet.
After I get her settled in we say goodbye.
“Where are you going?”
I don’t want to confuse her more or make her feel abandoned. Though it feels like we already are, I know this is for the best. “We’ll be back tomorrow, Mama.”
Her eyes gloss over with unshed tears like she knows. “But where are you going? Where am I? What’s happening?”
I can’t hold it together anymore. I begin to cry, and she blinks, releasing the liquid from her eyes. “We won’t be far,” I assure her. “We’ll be back tomorrow. They will take good care of you. You’re going to make some great friends. I promise.” My voice cracks. I have to get out of here.
I try to tell myself she won’t even remember this conversation ten minutes from now, and she won’t, but she’ll still feel lost.
“You’re leaving?” Panic saturates her voice.
Placing my hands on her shoulders, I try to say, “Just for a little bit.” The words choke me. I swallow and try again, “We’ll be back. This nice nurse here is going to take you to get some lunch. I hear it’s really good.”
Her eyes wander the room, even more apprehensive of her surroundings, knowing we’re not going to be here with her. “Okay…but…but…”
The nurse, Janessa, steps forward. Even she can’t keep her crap together. She’s blinking to clear her glistening eyes, watching us. My mom—too young for a place like this—saying goodbye to children too young to lose a mother this way.
“The chef is making some delicious roast beef sandwiches with au jus, Kate.” She tries to make it sound enticing. “Doesn’t that sound good?”
“That does sound delicious,” I agree, nodding, refocusing on anything but the moment I have to walk out that door. “You love roast beef, Ma.”
“I do,” she says hesitantly. “I do. I do?”
“Yes, you do,” I utter. My eyes start to burn, my mascara leaking in. “Janessa’s going to take you to eat some.”
“Perfect!” Janessa says overcompensating. She smiles and gently rests her hand on the small of Mama’s back. “Let’s go eat.”
We wave, and I clench my teeth to keep from sobbing. Mama watches us anxiously as we walk out of her room. Janessa guides her one way, and we go another. I hear Janessa speaking to Mama as a distraction, and I take Brooks’s hand because I need it. I need to feel something I’m not going to lose. The farther we walk, the worse I feel. Looking once over my shoulder, I see Mama glancing back at us over her shoulder. She doesn’t even know who we are, but she knows she doesn’t want to lose us. Tears roll down her cheeks.
She’s mouthing something I can’t hear, but it looks like, “Don’t go.”
Flipping my head back around, I push on. I try to tell myself I didn’t make a horrible mistake—I didn’t abandon my mom. I need my mom. It isn’t until this moment that I realize I need Brooks as much as he needs me, if not more. What are we going to do without her?
After getting in the car, I peer into my rearview mirror and see crocodile-sized tears rolling down Brooks’s red cheeks. Faintly, I wonder when I started thinking like a mother.
Opening the glove compartment, I grab some tissues and dab my eyes and blow my nose. I turn around to face him and try to keep my voice steady. “Buddy, you know how much I love you, right?”
He nods with his teeth clenched.
“She’s not gone for good.” Though it feels like it. My heart can’t handle the weight. It hurts. “This is good for her. It’s good for you. It’s good for all of us.” I try so hard to convince myself. But I feel like such a miserable excuse for a human being I don’t believe the words I’m saying. “She’s got twenty-four hour care now. She needs these doctors.”
“I know.” He sniffles and wipes his hand under his running nose and looks out the window. I pull out some more tissue and hand it to him. “Here, bud.” I want to tell him it will get easier, but I don’t know that it will. I can only hope.
“I know life without Mama isn’t easy, but we have each other and that makes life bearable, right? No…not just bearable.” Give the kid some hope, Alix. “Together we are going to make life great.”
He swallows, the tears subsiding, and peers back at me.
“Okay?” I say.
“Okay.” Brooks nods uncertainly.
“And Mama will always be a part of it.” The words hardly make their way out. I pause to clear my throat. “She’ll just be more like a next door neighbor who we visit. Life is going to be great.”
He nods without words and swallows his emotions.
“Okay, Brooks.” I turn back around and put the car in reverse to back out of the parking lot. “Let’s go home.” Tears escape down my face.
When I open the door to the house, it already feels like a shell of a home—empty. Dropping my keys on the countertop, I shrug off my jacket and drape it across a kitchen table chair. Brooks heads straight to his room. For a second I think of following him, but I decide to give him his space. He needs it, and I think I do too. I collapse on the couch. The house is quiet. Too quiet.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
I can hear myself breathe. It’s rhythmic, effortless.
I break. What used to once make us whole is gone, shattering the make up of our family. I cry and don’t stop. The sounds coming from my body aren’t human. I can’t do this. What was I thinking? Why did I do this?
“Alix?” My head darts in Brooks’s direction where he stands at the end of the hallway. “Alix,” he says again, and it’s so heartbreaking, I open my arms. He runs into them and together we cry on the couch, bearing the weight of a life without Mama.
***
A few days pass. I haven’t left the house. I’ve ignored every call and text. I’m surprised Sawyer or Aiden haven’t shown up at my door or sent out a search party. I think they know better. Brooks and I were supposed to go see Mama, but I couldn’t. I know how awful that sounds. We dropped her off, and for days we haven’t visited her. I am a terrible daughter. But I fear so much that if we go and see her miserable, it’ll tear me apart because I know I can’t take care of her the way they can.
I haven’t the left the house because I haven’t stopped crying, but I don’t want to cry anymore. I want to get out of the house. “Brooks!” I holler down the hallway and grab my keys off the counter.
When I pull into the driveway, I pause, but don’t think. I shoot out the driver’s side door and slam it behind me. I walk with a purpose to the front door, but I don’t know what the purpose is yet. It’s driving me nonetheless.
The front door opens. “Alix.” Aiden’s surprise makes me second-guess coming here. What was I thinking?
Oh. I know. I wasn’t.
“Hey,” I breathe.
I. Breathe.
I forgot what that feels like, oxygen filling my lungs and departing. “Easy as breathing” comes to mind, and yet that expression hasn’t made sense to me in years. I haven’t been able to breathe in years.
For a second he pauses, unsure what to do when a person shows up on his front doorstep. “Come in. Come in,” he finally says and steps aside. “Did you take her on Thursday?”
“Yeah.”
I can’t tell what’s written on his face. So many questions. Questions I can’t answer. I don’t have any answers. What are answers? I think my brain has officially lost its ability to function. But my lungs haven’t. They function perfectly. Expanding and contracting.
AIDEN
“WHERE’S BROOKS?”
“I dropped him off at Sawyer and Dean’s for a little bit.” Alix walks in like she can’t find herself. I guide her to my living room, and she robotically sits down on my leather couch.
“You want anything to drink?” I take a step toward my kitchen. “Water, coffee… hard liquor?” I ask with a laugh.
She doesn’t react. She answers with the shake of her head. Her eyes remain glued to the carpet. Shifting from foot to foot, I try to find the best way to breach the reason why she’s really here. Even though I shouldn’t question it, I have to know. For days she’s been silent, and I’ve tried giving her space. I don’t know what to say, but I want to be there for her.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“I…” She swallows. “I don’t know.”
“You can, you know. Talk to me about it.” I stay safely on my side of the room until she gives me the okay.
“It’s just…we dropped her off, and I didn’t know what to do.” She sounds so lost. I want to light up the dark. “I know it’s basically been me and Brooks for a while, but not like this. We walked in the door and everything shifted. For a moment I just breathed. The silence was deafening and liberating. I felt…relief.” Her eyes squeeze shut like she needs to block out a cruel memory. “And then it hit. Everything. I’ve been a huge, gigantic mess of emotions. I couldn’t leave my house. I don’t think I’ve stopped crying since we left her.” She finally looks up. “But it’s been days, and I had to get out the house. I have to forget this feeling. I’m such a horrible person.”
I take a seat beside her. I want to take the pain away. “Alix—”
“No.” She looks away again, vehemently shaking her head. “Don’t try and tell me I’m not, because I am. I placed my mom in a home, and I’m grateful I did. She’s safe there. Cared for. I have nothing to worry about. I won’t constantly be worrying about where she is or that I’m not taking better care of her. I won’t have to worry about losing her or her getting hurt on my watch. I won’t be trying to beg for help from others to watch her, so I can take care of Brooks. ” She pauses and meets my eyes. “I finally feel like I can breathe, and, yet, I’m still suffocating.”
I knew she was suffocating. No one—especially a twenty-something, trying to survive new adulthood—could take on what she has alone. For how many years she’s tried to do it all alone? She was bound to break.
“That’s such a horrible thing to say,” she continues. “How could I feel relief when she’s not around anymore? Be grateful and feel guilt that I made that decision? Did I betray her?” Self-hatred is saturating Alix’s face, contorting her beautiful features. I want to obliterate it, show her she’s anything but horrible.
“You’re looking at it wrong. You’re not grateful that she’s not around. You’re grateful she’s getting the best care you could find. You’re grateful that you can finally give Brooks what he needs. You’re grateful that finally you let go of your pride and did what was best for your mom. What was best for Brooks. What was best for all of you.”
I can tell she’s not letting my w
ords soak in. She bites her lips and blinks back tears, blinking at me, wanting to believe me but not giving herself enough credit. She fought long and hard. She thinks she lost, but she hasn’t. This is a win.
“I want to forget, Aiden. I want to trade places with her and forget that this is our life.”
Don’t think. I’m done being patient. I take Alix’s face in my hands and kiss her. I will make her forget.
ALIX
I GASP AT Aiden’s touch, but don’t stop him like I should. He kisses me, and I know a natural disaster is lingering on the horizon, waiting to strike at any moment. If I let him kiss me, I have a thousand foot drop to plummet down when it’s over.
His hands roam, following the curves of my body. He’s savoring each moment, salvaging every memory. Any second it could end. I don’t want it to end. It needs to end.
This kiss is like an unexpected winter storm; I’m unprepared to hold my own against its assault. I simply give in and curl myself into the warm contours of Aiden’s arms as if he were home.
My hands find his biceps, and I grip them to save my life. Only he can save me. I know that I should pull away and run at the speed of light, but I need this. I need his touch. I want every part of me to be consumed by Aiden Ballard. I want him to make me forget my own name.
When he whispers my name against my mouth, I come undone. My fingers tangle in the short locks of his hair as his hand clutches the back of my neck; a needle and thread sew us together. The fingers of his other hand drift under the hem of my shirt, and my mind suddenly remembers what a conscious thought is. I shove away from him and stand, unsteadily. I catch myself before I fall.
He sits, stunned, catching his breath and stares up at me.
My breathing slows, trying to find a normal rhythm. “Aiden…” I say, but nothing else comes. My heart is beating so rapidly I can’t think.
He breathes through his nose, waiting for me to say something, his eyes doing all the talking. Why did you pull away? I’m not done with you. Come back.