“I will.” I kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry; everything will be just fine.”
Outside, Ethan holds the back passenger door open for me, and I enter. He drives us out of the compound and onto the road.
“Sorry about your father,” Ethan says, catching my gaze through the rearview mirror.
I nod. “Thanks.”
“My father had a stroke several three years ago, and now he’s fully recovered. All he had to do was to follow the doctor’s instructions,” Ethan continues. “Your father will pull through too.”
“I’m sure he will.” My father has never listened to anyone’s instructions in his life. But maybe he has changed. Time changes people.
It takes us half an hour to get to the hospital. I pull my cap lower and slip on my sunglasses. Ethan parks the car and talks on his cell phone. We leave the car and head to the entrance. I’ve learned that walking fast usually does the trick, and people rarely recognize you. In the elevator, Ethan presses the button for the seventh floor, which is where the VIP rooms are located. That side of my father has not changed. He would not be caught dead in a normal room. The reception nurses wave us through, and we walk down the wide hallway until we come to his room.
“I’ll be here,” Ethan says, standing guard outside the door.
I push the door open and step in. My mother turns around, and our gazes meet. Her eyes fill up on seeing me. She clasps her hand over her mouth, then she stands and runs to me. I open my arms, and we hug as if it’s not been years since the last time we met.
“You came,” she says, her voice muffled by my shirt.
I kiss the top of her head and almost gag from the strong perfumes coming from her hair. My mother loves everything in doubles doses, whether it be perfume or makeup.
She draws back to stare at me. “You look so different in person.” She strokes my scars, and it dawns on me that she and my father have never seen my new look in person. “You look handsome, though.”
I study her too. The years have not been very kind to her, and she has tons of wrinkles that she did not have before. I guess that is a result of the kind of lifestyle they live. Drinking and partying takes their toll over the years.
“Come and talk to your father. He’s been asking for you.” She takes my hand and leads me to the side of the bed.
My father’s eyes are on me. “I didn’t think you’d come.” He looks frail, but his eyes are bright and alert. His mouth and left eye are drooping a little bit.
“How are you doing?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “I keep telling them that I feel better, but that doctor won’t let me go home just yet.”
My mom shakes her head. “Don’t believe him. He has a long way to go. His left hand and leg are not working very well.”
“They’re fine,” my father mumbles. He looks at me. “You’re really into the cash now, aren’t you? How come you haven’t increased our share? It’s been the same for years, and it’s not quite enough.”
I’m disappointed but not shocked. Even now, years later, when he sees me, my father sees dollar bills. Nothing will ever change, and it was naïve of me to hope that the years had mellowed him.
“Fred!” my mother cries. “Can’t you just be happy that Kyle has come to see you? Does it have to be about money all the time? You had a stroke, for fuck’s sake, and all you can think about is money.”
I’m surprised at my mother’s outburst. I remember her as always bowing to my father’s wishes. I feel proud of her that she can finally voice her thoughts.
“How did it happen?” I ask her, changing the topic.
My mother’s face heats up, and she lets out a girlish giggle. I see where it’s going, but it’s too late to withdraw my question.
“Your father and I were getting intimate when it happened,” she says, her eyes dancing with amusement. “You know how adventurous your—”
“I don’t need the details, Mom,” I tell her.
“The boy doesn’t want to believe that his precious mother has sexual needs,” my father says.
Anger comes over me, and as I look into my father’s eyes, I see the same look of disdain and what looks like hatred. I don’t get it. Why would he hate me? I’ve never disrespected him in any way. I take a step back. “I’m not a boy, Dad, and I do know that my mother has sexual needs, but I’ll let you in on something you might not know. No man is interested in his parents’ sex life and most parents instinctively know this. I’ll talk to you real soon, Mom.” I lean forward to kiss her cheek.