Mom nodded. “That would be great, sweetie.” She nodded slowly, like I was still talking. Just looking at her was enough to punch me in the gut – she looked like a shell of her former self, a husk of the confident woman I’d always known.
I could tell she was still in shock.
“Come on, Mom,” I said gently, pulling her away from the table and leading her over to the living room. “Why don’t you lie down for a little while? We can make some plans when you wake up.”
Mom nodded. “That’s a good idea, Belle,” she said dreamily. “You’ve always been the best daughter.”
As I watched my mom drift off into an uneasy sleep, I felt co
nflicted. Angry. Scared. I knew that everything was about to change.
If only I’d known how much things would change, maybe I could have done a better job preparing myself for what was going to come next.
But there was no way of knowing, and now I was coasting off into the void like a missile off course.
The next couple of days were a blur. Between emailing my professors and packing a big bag, I barely had time to eat. Mom had gone home the morning after driving up to Alfred to give me the news, and even though I’d tried distracting myself, nothing had worked. I couldn’t even focus on studying – I was too worried about Mom, and what would happen to her now that Mitchell was gone.
Even though I’d lived with Mitchell and Mom as a teenager, I never really got to know my stepfather all that well. He was nice enough – Mom really loved him – but he never made too much of an interest in my life. I could count the number of dinners we’d had as a family on one hand…most of the time, Mom was too obsessed with spending as much time with her husband as possible.
It probably sounds like I was a little neglected. Some people would likely say that, but I’m not sure I could agree with them. After all, I didn’t mind. I’ve always been an introvert, and the idea of spending family dinners with a man I barely knew always made me want to break out into hives. So while Mom and Mitchell flirted over fancy wine and Italian cuisine, I normally read books in my room and snuck down to the kitchen for late-night snacks after everyone else was in bed. I’d always thought of it as doing Mom a favor, like giving her the time with her husband that she seemed to need so desperately.
I never imagined that I’d have to be the one who supported my mother through something like this. Mitchell had been so full of life, so energetic. The fact that he was dead didn’t even resonate with me.
Friday morning, Alexa drove me to the train station. We hugged for a long time before I left.
“Are you gonna be okay?” Alexa squinted at me against the early morning sun. “I know you haven’t been doing so well lately.”
I sighed. “I don’t know,” I said. “I just have to go be there for Mom.” And I have to manage not to break down at the sight of Jackson, I added silently in my head.
As much as I wanted to tell Alexa all about how nervous I was at the thought of seeing Jackson, I knew I couldn’t let her in on my little secret. After all, I didn’t think she’d exactly understand. Alexa could have men eating out of the palm of her hand in a matter of minutes. I knew that she wouldn’t believe me when I told her what a jackass he really was…she’d probably lie, and say something like “Oh, I’m sure you just haven’t gotten to know him yet.”
“Okay, well, I’ve got to run,” I said, smiling tightly. “I’ll see you next week.”
Alexa nodded. “I’ll miss you, bestie,” she said. She air-kissed my cheeks and then I climbed out of her car into the blistering cold.
Alfred, New York was beautiful in the summer months but the winters were cold, snowy, and dreadful. I hated the cold. In another life, I was probably a beach bum – tan and bronzed and worshipping the sun all day long. But in this life, I’m a pale little mouse, I thought as I glanced down at my phone to check the time. And that’s not going to change any time soon.
The train from Alfred to New York City took almost three hours. I couldn’t relax the whole time – I kept thinking about Mom, and how much she must be hurting. I wished that I’d stayed with her the whole time, that I hadn’t let her leave. She must be so alone, and so sad, I thought nervously as I rubbed my hands together for warmth. I need to work hard on being a better daughter to her.
When I got into Grand Central Terminal, I grabbed my bags and walked quickly towards the entrance. Mom had said she’d be waiting for me, but after a few minutes went by and I didn’t see her, I pulled out my phone.
Mom didn’t answer until the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me,” I said. “Um, I just got into the city. Are you here? Are you coming to pick me up?”
“Oh, Belle, it’s so good to hear your voice,” Mom said. She sniffled. “I sent a car,…well, actually, Jackson heard you were coming and sent a car for you. I told him that was okay – are you going to be meeting up with us at the church?”
I frowned. I hadn’t spoken to Jackson in years – why the hell was he reaching out now?
“Are you sure?” I wrinkled my nose. “That doesn’t sound like something Jackson would do, Mom.”
“Belle, be easy on him,” Mom warned. “He’s just lost his father. Don’t you remember what that feels like?”
A weird mix of guilt and embarrassment seeped into my chest. She was right – I should understand exactly how Jackson was feeling. My own dad had died when I was a little kid, but I didn’t really remember him. Mostly what I remembered before Mom married Mitchell was how it felt for the two of us to be out there on our own. I remembered the little nights in our cramped kitchen, the way Mom would make macaroni and cheese for dinner. We’d spent the whole evening camped out in front of the television, watching all of our old favorites.
“I know,” I said. I sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just kind of a surprise, that’s all.”