Fall With Me(27)
Author: Bella Forrest

“It’s okay, Mom.” Though actually it isn’t; the fact that she told Sean to stop by later makes my skin crawl, but I don’t say anything. “We can stay in. I’ll make you something. Do you feel like eating?”

“No, not really. And you shouldn’t have to make yourself something on your own birthday. Why don’t we order takeout. Maybe from that Thai place you like. Or whatever you want.”

So we order Thai food and watch a movie. And while I sit there with a plate of spring rolls and pad thai balanced on my lap, I try not to think about what sorts of things we might be doing if Dad were still alive, I try not to think about how much better everything would be, in every possible way, if he hadn’t died.

Mom has a few bites of spring roll and watches maybe half an hour of the movie before she falls asleep. I finish eating, then I go over to the coffee table and open the card from Uncle Nate. It’s a generic Hallmark card, which he’s signed his name to. A folded piece of paper flutters to the ground—more money—and I don’t bend down to retrieve it.

I do the dishes and fold up the take-out containers. Sharon is sitting at the kitchen table, working on a crossword puzzle.

“Are you hungry?” I ask. “There’s plenty of food leftover. I’m sorry; I should have asked you when we ordered.”

“Oh, I already ate,” she says. “And I was trying to make myself scarce, at least for the time being. It’s so good for her when you’re around.”

It’s still early, so I go and sit back in the chair and finish watching the movie. Sharon comes in and wakes Mom up and has her take about half a dozen pills. After she’s done washing them down with water, she looks at me, as though she’s surprised to see me still sitting there.

“Is it still your birthday?” she asks.

I nod. “Still my birthday.”

A sad look crosses her face, and I realize she’s just as eager for this day to be over with as I am. The movie credits are scrolling up the screen and I watch them for a minute, before I realize she’s crying.

“Mom,” I say. I reach over and take her hand, which feels limp and fragile, like toothpicks in a silk sack. “Don’t cry, Mom. It’s okay. I know today is hard. It’s hard for me, too.”

“I hate to hear you say that. I hate that this is how we have to feel now. I don’t want to feel this way, but it doesn’t seem to matter what I do. The only time I feel better is when I get my medication, and that’s because I don’t really feel anything at all.” Her fingers twitch, and then her grip tightens, momentarily, on my hand. “Please see Sean when he comes by later.”

I resist the urge to pull my arm back. “Why?”

“At least just talk to him for a few minutes. Could you do that for me?”

“I don’t understand what difference it makes to you.”

“I want to know that things are going to be okay for you,” Mom says. She blinks and wipes at her eyes. “I just don’t know how long I’m going to be around for—”

“Oh, Mom,” I say. “Please don’t talk like that.”

She sighs and rests her head against the pillow. “I never used to understand the people who thought life was such a hassle to live. People that never seemed happy, no matter what happened to them. But I get that, now. I’m in pain every day. Even the simplest task is either impossible or near-impossible to do on my own. Do you know how hard that is? I just want to be realistic about things.”

I press my lips together and take a deep breath. “Mom. I’m not saying I think what you’re going through is easy. I know it’s not. But . . . but that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to enjoy things, too. It doesn’t mean you’re not going to have good times.”

“I’m in pain all the time. I’m on eight different medications that make me feel like I’m underwater or wrapped up in gauze. Like there’s this constant fog in my brain. Is that any way to live?” She wipes at her eyes again and then forces a smile. “I’m sorry, Jilly. I didn’t mean to get into all that. Some days are harder than others.”

I swallow the ache in my throat. “I wish I could make it better for you.”

“You are. Just knowing that you’re out there, working toward what you want. It makes me happy to think of you out there, going to school, working with the campers, hanging out with your friends. Your father’s gone. I’m practically gone. Sean cares about you. He remembered your birthday! I don’t want to think about you being out there all alone. Not that I don’t think you can’t be happy on your own, of course, but everyone should have someone. Someone to come home to.”

“There’s plenty of time for me to meet someone,” I say. “Sean and I . . . we gave it a good go. But I don’t think he’s the right guy for me. Don’t you think it’s more important that I wait and find the right guy?”

“Yes. But sometimes I wonder if you’ve set your standards too high.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“There is, Jilly. You know that. You can be hard on people sometimes. And am I saying that I just want you to be with any old person? No, of course not. But I remember how happy you and Sean used to be together. It reminded me of the way things were between your father and I.”

I do my best not to groan. “Mom, my relationship with Sean was nothing like what you and Dad had. I’m kind of too busy for that now, anyway. Once camp is over I’ve got to get back to school and actually graduate. And eventually, maybe, I’ll meet someone.”

“I know you will. And you’re right—there’s no rush. I’ve just been missing Dad. It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost a year since we last saw him, isn’t it?”

I nod.

“I keep thinking about that last weekend we spent together. It’s really like my last clear memory I have from before the accident. When he took me on the helicopter ride in Napa?” She laughs. “I’d always wanted to do one of those helicopter tours, and I never thought it would happen because your father was so afraid of heights.”

I laugh too, thinking about the way Dad used to psych himself up before ascending the ladder to clean the gutters out every fall, before he finally hired our next-door neighbor’s son to do it.

“But your father knew how much I wanted to go, and even though he kept his eyes squeezed shut half the time, by the end, I think he had a pretty good time. I know I did.” Her smile fades a little. “It really was beautiful. I’d love to relive that day, over and over again.”