Throwing the covers back, I slide my feet over the edge of the mattress and stand. The hardwood floor is cold to my bare feet, but I ignore the need to grab a pair of socks. Instead, I just head out the door.
The stairs creak and groan when I descend. Each step twists my gut with fear and anxiety. Halfway down the staircase, whispering meets my ears and I stop to listen. I hear Rene’s voice but I can’t make out her words. A hair tickles my nose and I am suddenly reminded that my hair is a wild mass of frizzy curls. I try in vain to finger comb them into submission. After several failed attempts, I give up. Cupping my hands over my mouth, I blow a few breaths. Well, it’s not minty fresh breath but at least it’s not quite dragon breath either.
Thaddeus is whispering now. The only words I can understand are Why her? Who is he talking about? I pray he isn’t talking about me, especially with Rene and Eryc.
I crane my neck and strain to listen for my mom’s voice but hers isn’t among them. What on earth is going on? Taking a deep breath, I descend the rest of the steps. When my feet land on the floor, all voices cease and every eye turns my way.
What worries me isn’t the tears streaming freely from my brother’s eyes, or the red and puffy eyes of Rene. No, what pierces all the way to my soul is the sorrowful expression Eryc is wearing. The look on his face speaks volumes. Panic creeps up from my toes, travels up my body and sets its claws into the depths of my heart.
My breaths come in short pants, oxygen failing to enter my lungs. I have never hyperventilated before but I’m pretty sure this is what is happening to me. With no oxygen feeding my lung tissue, my chest burns and my pants turn to gasps. Bending at the waist, I place my hands on my knees. The skin on my face is tingling, my vision is slightly blurry, and now I’m beginning to feel lightheaded.
Someone I love is hurt. I can feel it down in my bones.
Seeing how the only person missing from this room is my mom, dread overwhelms me. Something bad has happened to her. This cannot be my life. I can’t live without my mother.
Pushing myself up from my knees, I start to sway. The room is spinning and nothing is in focus anymore. I think I may get sick. Darkness closes in, dimming the light from my peripheral until all I see is a pinpoint of light. My legs are getting heavy and I know I’m about to pass out and fall.
Though I can’t see, I still feel the spinning sensation. It feels like I’m on a tilt-a-whirl and the ride is about to break and send me flying into oblivion.
Before I hit the ground, strong arms wrap around me and hug me close. I’m glad for that because I have no strength to save myself.
Chapter Six
Eryc
I am dreaming of Makayla, a normal occurrence for me. Dreaming of pushing her on a park swing as her laughter fills the air around us. She is happy and the sun glints off her auburn hair.
My dream is interrupted when a hand grips my shoulder and shakes my body violently. Against my will, the dream vanishes like a cloud of smoke and I crack open an eye to glare at the intruder. Aunt Rene is standing over me, gripping both of my shoulders and shaking me with all her might.
“I’m up, I’m up.” I pry her hands off me. “Jeez, what is wrong with you?” Snatching my cell phone off the nightstand, I glance at the time.
3:55AM.
“Seriously? It’s the middle of the night.”
It is now that I notice my aunt’s hands are shaking and she has taken to pacing back and forth next to my bed. “Eryc.” She doesn’t say anything else. This is unlike her, and that fact sets off my nerves. I sit up and reach for the lamp, pulling the chain. Yellow light illuminates the room. Her eyes are red and puffy and her face is unusually pale.
“Aunt Rene?” I rub the sleep from my eyes and sit up straighter. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Brenda.” She chews on her thumbnail, a nervous habit of hers. “I think you should go next door with me. You need to be there for Makayla when I tell the twins.”
Her words are like ice-cold water to my body. My mind is suddenly on high alert and I rip the covers from my body, not caring that I am only in my boxers.
Aunt Rene doesn’t seem to notice my predicament, her eyes are staring blankly at the wall behind me.
I rush to pull on my discarded jeans from the floor at the foot of the bed, and then pull a fresh shirt from the closet.
She hasn’t moved since I got off the bed so I touch her lightly on the shoulder. “Aunt Rene?”
Shaking her head, she stands up and looks at me with her sad eyes. “I’m really sorry for waking you up like this, in the middle of the night, to drag you next door.”
I wave off her apology. Waking me was the right thing to do. If Makayla needs me then I will be there. Sleep be damned. “I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t want them to go through this alone, especially Kay.”
It doesn’t take me long to slip on my shoes and slide my cell phone and keys into my pocket. Aunt Rene follows me down the stairs and out the front door. Locking the house behind me, we walk across the lawn toward Makayla’s house. My aunt lifts her hand to knock on the heavy door. Thirty seconds pass and there is no answer. She knocks again with the same results. Then she places her finger on the doorbell and presses, not once or twice but repeatedly like a crazed maniac.
A light from the upstairs window illuminates the grass along the sidewalk. Through the small window in the top portion of the door I see Thaddeus walking down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. He peers out and his eyes grow wide when he sees the two of us standing on his front porch.
The deadbolt clicks and he opens the door. Thaddeus leans his head against the heavy wood with a yawn. “What are you two doing here this late?”
My aunt touches Thaddeus on the cheek. “Sweetheart, may we come in?”
I see it in his eyes, the wheels in his mind are turning. He straightens and steps aside. Looking around, his eyes scan the floor by the front door, the key hook on the wall by the door, and then the end table in the living room.
Is he looking for signs of his mother?
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
Aunt Rene is wringing her hands in front of her. “Sweetheart, I need you to go get your sister.”
Thaddeus shakes his head. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Sweetheart,” my aunt says but Thaddeus stomps a foot, cutting her off.
“Just tell me.” His eyes scan the key hook again. “It’s about my mom, isn’t it?” Thaddeus is very perceptive and my heart breaks for him.
Aunt Rene touches his arm in a show of affection. “There’s been an accident. Your mother is in surgery as we speak.” She grips his arm and pulls him in for a hug. “I need you to wake Makayla.”
The color drains from his face and he walks backward. When his foot bumps against the banister, he turns and ascends the stairs two at a time.
I follow Rene into the living room and sit on the sofa. From here, I have a clear view of the banister in the entryway. My heart aches because I know that Makayla’s world is about to be flipped on its axis.
Several minutes pass and I am starting to wonder if I need to go up and assist Thaddeus but then I hear his heavy footfalls. The weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders and it shows in the worry lines on his forehead and the slump of his shoulders as he walks into the living room.
The sofa dips where he sits. Thaddeus rests his elbows on his knees and cradles his head in his hands.
I want to say something, anything, but what can I say. I have never had a parent in critical condition. These are circumstances I am not familiar with on a personal level and I have no idea what he is feeling. Whatever I say will only go in one ear and out the other because I can’t relate.
Aunt Rene kneels in front of Thaddeus and speaks to him in hushed tones, comforting him with her words of wisdom and love. She has experienced the loss of her father so she understands the grief he is going through.
Thaddeus appears to be receptive to her words of encouragement. He is asking questions ab
out the surgery and Brenda’s chances of survival when soft thuds sound from the entryway. They stop and I imagine Makayla standing just out of sight, listening to the whispers coming from this room. I count to eight before her footsteps sound again.
I am watching, waiting, for her to come into view. Her bare foot is the first thing I see, her toenails are painted fuchsia. Inch by inch, the rest of her comes into view. Taking in the sight of my aunt and her brother, she sucks in a deep breath, but it’s when her eyes lock on mine that all color drains from her face. Fear darkens the green of her eyes to the point they are nearly black.
Her shoulders rise and fall at a fast rate and I fear she will hyperventilate and lose her balance. Scooting to the edge of the cushion, I am ready to stand and go to her aid should she need me.
Rise. Fall. Rise. Fall.
Her shoulders are moving at a faster pace now and her face is growing deathly pale. Bending at the waist, Makayla braces herself with her hands on her knees and continues to breathe erratically.
Seeing the girl that was once my best friend, the girl that I have secretly loved since our cartoon days, suffering and in need, I stand. At the same time, she pushes herself up but her body is not in control anymore.
Not willing to let her lose her balance and hurt herself, I quickly make my way to her side. In a few long and fast strides, I am at her side. I’m glad I acted because now her eyes are glazed over and I can see that she is on the verge of losing consciousness.
Stepping around her, I spread my feet and ready myself for the added weight. Her body tilts and sways like a drunken loon and that’s when I slip my arms around her and lift her body, cradling her against my chest.
“It’s okay, angel,” I whisper into her ear.
When I turn around, Thaddeus is standing next to my aunt. The worry lines on his forehead are deeper now. “Will she be okay?” he directs his question to my aunt but his gaze stays glued to his sister.
Carrying her into the living room, I lay her on the sofa and stroke her hair away from her face. I look up at my aunt, waiting for her answer.
“Yes, I think she’ll be fine, Thaddeus. She just fainted.” She touches his arm. “Can you get a cool rag for her face?” Shooing me out of her way, she pulls a penlight from her purse and kneels next to the sofa then lifts Makayla’s eyelids and shines the light quickly across each eye.
Footsteps echo in the quiet house when Thaddeus runs from the room to fetch a cool rag. My eyes never stray from Makayla and my fingers continuously caress her forehead. Water runs in the distance then footsteps pound against the hardwood, growing louder until Thaddeus is standing next to me. He hands me the cool, wet rag and takes a seat next to Makayla’s feet.
Placing the rag on Makayla’s forehead, I stroke her cheek with my finger. This fainting spell of hers is odd. I don’t think she has ever fainted before. Why now? We hadn’t even told her the news about her mother yet. It is odd but maybe she fainted because she sensed the worry in Thaddeus and the anxiety overwhelmed her.
Moving the cloth around on her face, I pray she will be okay. She needs her health and extra strength for herself and her brother as they deal with Brenda’s critical condition.
When my fingers brush against her lips, her eyes crack open and a groan rumbles out from her throat.
Chapter Seven
Makayla
The dull yellow light in this room is blinding and makes my eyes water. Closing them again, I groan at the thudding in the back of my skull. Sheesh, I feel like I have been hit by a Mac truck traveling at a high speed. Breathing in through my nose, I hold it and count to five before I release it.
I do that four times and then open my eyes again. They flutter at first, blocking out most of the painful light. It doesn’t take long until they adjust to the brightness and I open them fully.
Eryc’s brown eyes are the first thing I see. Concern shines bright in their depths along with something that looks a lot like affection. That is the thing with Eryc, he is very compassionate. If you looked up compassionate, caring, or even loving in the dictionary, you would see his face printed on the pages as the definition. Okay, maybe not, but that is my opinion, at least.
The cushion shifts near my feet and I glance down. Thaddeus is biting his lower lip and staring at me intently.
Rene enters the room with a glass in hand. It’s when I see her that I remember the ill vibes I felt when I was descending the stairs. I remember getting the distinct feeling that someone I loved was in danger. Blood rushes through my veins so fast that it’s pulsing in my ears. Deep within my soul, I know this is about my mom. It’s like my soul can feel her torment.
Nothing tragic can happen to my mom. Other than Thaddeus, she is all I have in this world. My dad is a loser who chose to abandon us for a cheap thrill with his secretary.
Dread washes over me and I allow my eyes to roam around the room looking for any signs that mom came home during the night, but I don’t see any.
Oh God. I don’t see mom’s briefcase on the end table. I sit up, the cold, wet rag falling onto my lap and dampening my pajama bottoms. Craning my neck, I peer into the entryway. Her shoes are not sitting next to the front door.
A tear then trickles from my eye and slowly trails down my cheek, along my neck, and soaks into the collar of my shirt.
“Drink this, sweetie.” Rene presses a glass into my hand.
I don’t need to look into the glass to know what is in it, I can smell the sweet fragrance of orange juice. Knots form in my stomach at the sugary aroma and I am instantly nauseous.
“Go ahead, Makayla,” she urges. “You just fainted, this will do you some good.”
Rene is a doctor so if she thinks I need the juice then I probably do. Raising the glass, I hold my breath and bring it up to my lips. If I don’t breathe, the smell won’t force my stomach to spew its contents. Right? At least I hope I’m right.
Tilting the glass, I take a small sip. The cold liquid does the exact opposite of what I initially feared. It sooths the raging waves in my stomach and calms the storm. I take another sip, and another, until the glass is empty.
Handing the glass back to Rene, I scoot to the middle cushion so Eryc can sit next to me. “I think I’m fine now.”
Eryc doesn’t need to be told, he stands from the floor and sits next to me on the sofa.
“Why are you guys here?” I ask, looking at Rene. “Please don’t say it’s because of mom.”
Thaddeus is sitting on the other side of me. He reaches over and takes my hand, sandwiching it between his calloused ones. I see it in his eyes. It is about mom. She is hurt or in danger and he is trying to console me before Rene delivers the devastating news.
“No.” My voice is shaky and Thaddeus scoots closer, wrapping his arms around me and holding on tight.
I know his actions are meant to be comforting but it is anything but. Being trapped in his arms strips away my freedom. It is imprisoning me. I hate this feeling of being trapped in the vice of another’s arms.
Eryc moves off the sofa and I follow his movements with my eyes only. A box of tissues is at the other end of the room, next to the television. He grabs it and comes back, kneeling in front of me. Setting the box on my lap, he cups my face, his thumb brushing away a lone tear that breaks free.
Caressing my jaw with his fingertips, he leans his forehead against mine. The pounding of my heart only increases the longer we sit in silence. It’s killing me.
I open my mouth to speak and my bottom lip trembles. “Eryc, just tell me, please,” I whisper.
Tears blur Eryc’s face. Blinking would clear my vision but I can’t bring myself to break our eye contact, not yet.
His nose presses into mine, his breath hot on my upper lip. “Kay.”
Kay. It seems like a lifetime ago that he called me by that nickname.
A crease develops between his brows and his hands cup my face a little tighter. “It’s your mom.”
Tremors wrack my body. You only get one mo
m and sadly I haven’t had the pleasure of bonding with mine like a daughter should. Would I ever get that chance? Eryc’s words echo over and over in my mind.
It’s your mom.
Fear seeps into my bones like ice and a scream then rips loose from deep within my soul, tearing through me in a painful escape.
I don’t know how long I have been screaming but now my throat is sore and scratchy. Thaddeus is standing across the room sobbing, and I am no longer sitting on the sofa. I am now sitting on Eryc’s lap, his arms around me and he is rocking me back and forth.
This action is innocent and meant to comfort me but it is having the opposite effect. My life has been a downward spiral for several weeks now and the simplest of touches make me want to puke. I pry his arms from me and push myself off his lap, sitting on the other side of the sofa.
Hurt flashes in his eyes. It’s only there for a second before Eryc clears his emotions from his face, but I saw it and it makes me feel guilty for causing it.
Rene sits on the coffee table, leans forward and takes my hand, rubbing circles on the back of it. “Sweetheart, your mom was in an accident. She was driving on I-44 when a drunk driver lost control and hit her car.”
Acid burns the lining of my stomach and sends a fiery trail up my throat. There is no time to make a run for the bathroom. I push off the cushion and lean over the side of the sofa to let out the contents of my stomach on the plush white rug. If my world hadn’t just been turned upside down I might have died from embarrassment.
Sadly, my world hasn’t only been flipped upside down, it is spiraling out of control. Embarrassment doesn’t even register on my radar at the moment.
Lifting the collar of my shirt, I wipe my mouth clean.
Rene leans forward to peer into my eyes. “Your mom is in surgery as we speak. It’s bad but you’ll have me and Eryc to lean on while your mom heals.”
I hear the words leaving her mouth, but my brain is not comprehending them. Robotically, I nod.
“You and Thaddeus get dressed and we’ll drive you to the hospital.” She points to the rug. “Don’t worry about this, I’ll take care of it.”
Pieces of Me Page 3