“It’s time, Aves. We had a talk, and she wants to do a hospice bed in the nursing home. There’s a room there they can use for her.”
“When did you decide all of this?”
“I had a meeting with them today.”
“No. No, Mom. We can take care of her here. I’ll get time off—”
“Ave.” She wheeled her chair closer and stopped, folding her hands in her lap.“You have taken care of us most of your life, and honey, you’re too young for this. I’m going to move into my own place.”
“What?!”
“It’s not that bad. It’s a new program. It’s set up where I’ll have my own place, and I’ve got some friends there already.”
“You’re not old. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we need to sell the house to handle some of the extra bills, and I’m thinking that I want you to live life where you’re not taking care of me anymore. You can help, but it’s not like I’m dying anytime soon. It’s not what it sounds like. It’s my own place, but I got people close to help if I need it. I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“You’re my mother. That’s my job. That’s not going to stop if you move somewhere else.”
“See. Right there. That’s why I need to make this move. You know I’ve got some other health concerns. They ain’t going away.”
Grandmum was dying. My mom was moving. We needed to sell the house.
I was losing everything I knew.
7
ZEKE
Jesus. I was stunned.
Ava told me what was going on, and pieces were fitting together as to why she worked so much. How she must’ve felt in high school, and I had been such the opposite that I was getting another humbling kick in the ass. Right up the ass.
Fuck.
I couldn’t comprehend any of this.
“You’re amazing.”
Ava gave me a weird look. We’d moved to the living room. The conversation continued as I brought in a pizza, and she was looking tired. I was thinking some of the carbs were soaking up the alcohol. She wouldn’t be so sick, but she was also feeling what she’d been hoping to avoid.
“What?” She laughed, but I saw the confusion too.
I leaned forward, scooting to the edge of my couch. “You’re amazing, Ava.”
She quieted, her eyes widening, and she seemed to slink into the loveseat, like she wanted to disappear.
I shook my head. “I was such a jackass in high school.” I leaned back, my eyes still on her. “My mom’s an alcoholic.”
“I didn’t know that.” She said that so quietly. Small.
I snorted. “It’s not a big deal, at least to me. To each their own, I figure. She thinks it’s her getting by, but she’s just wallowing. She doesn’t want to change. Alcoholic or not, she’s a good mom to me. She just likes her wine, and then she goes in her room and cries. Or she did. Her and my dad are on some big trip so I’m not sure if it’s the same deal, but that’s how I grew up.” Thinking on it, I winced. “I mean, I don’t like that she’s that sad, but that’s for her to fix. Anyways, sharing that because I’ve always known I didn’t need to take care of my parents. And I’ve always known that there’d be assets for me. I never worried about any of that, and you, I don’t know the breakdown of health insurance or whatever and you’ve not talked about the males in your life or even if there were or are any, but you’re fucking amazing, Ava. You’re looking at me like you’ve got no clue why I’m saying that to you, and that makes you even more amazing.”
All the sex. The booze. The literal stupid shit we did in high school. The drugs. Then college. Joining a fraternity.
And she was here. Working. Caring for her mom, her grandmother.
I’d been living life, but I’d not been appreciating it while I did it, and her, she hadn’t been living, but she would’ve appreciated every second of it if she had.