"You can't keep doing this."
I turn away from her. I feel irritated as though the end of my nerves are twisting into a knot.
"Honey, I promise, it's just a short trip."
I think it's supposed to calm her.
"What about me?"
I am not looking at her, but she is so angry.
I zip up the suitcase.
It feels heavier than fifty pounds.
The airlines will charge me extra.
I don't think I care.
I can afford it.
"You can't just leave me here alone. What about Nalani!? Who's going to watch her?"
Xxx
If I were being honest, waking up had never been an arduous process for me. Considering the circumstances of my sleeping habits, I savored every moment spent awake. Consciousness renewed the graces of quiet crisp mornings, when the air was cooler than the earth, that was on occasion very wet from Washington rains. The scent was practically palpable at that time; hardly would I ever miss a morning for that very reason.
But, even with that in mind, this morning would have undoubtedly been an exception.
If my thoughts were liquid then it would be appropriate to say they were sloshing around in my skull, mixing into each other, swirling, swirling, at the slightest movement. The incoherency of one's thoughts generally lead to confusion, but as I pushed myself up with my elbows, I had already deduced where I was.
I observed the room, if only for a few moments, before my eyes fixated on a picture of my family, the three of us together back then as it should have been now, which sat nearby on the desk nearest to the bed. A portrait with that same image hung on the wall in the living room of our previous house. Before my father died, my mother had always looked at it and complained how much the store had charged for the photography session. After my father died, my mother pretended the portrait never existed. I reached over and took the picture in cold hands, trembling fingers wiped off the layer of dust that had accumulated over the months.
" I often wonder if you're my daughter."
I'd sensed she was there, brooding in front of the closed door, thinking that prolonging my ignorance would delay her confrontation. It was slightly creepy that the light wasn't on with a woman glaring at me in a room where the blinds were drawn. Maybe that explained my overwhelming nervousness.
I looked up and rested the picture in my lap. "Hi mom, you look so beautiful."
"...I don't understand you," she shook her head. "-no one in their right mind would go up that mountain at night, I don't think they would, even in their wrong mind. There is something in your head, girl."
"I know. I'm sorry," I said.
"Are you stupid? Where is your sense? You want to kill to me, don't you? Don't you care? You're not going to answer me?"
"I do care…" I muttered, consciously aware of the words that I said and of the words I was going to say all while thinking that this was not how I envisioned reuniting with my mother after almost a year without seeing her. "I just wanted to see. Don't you ever see dad too, in your dreams? I thought if I went up there I could finally give this a rest. I can finally sleep at night without waking up constantly to the ghost of him. But, I was wrong-please, I know."
"You've always seen things you weren't supposed to. Know things you aren't supposed to. We should have you see a therapist."
"I don't need to see a shrink...I just…"
Staring at her was a small task that I failed to accomplish when I succumbed to staring at the picture instead. It was hard not letting the smiling face of my dead father in the photograph get to me.
If my eyes hadn't flickered towards the opening door, tears would have gathered.
"Is this your daughter?"
The face slipping through the door arrested me, from her soft lips to her soft eyes, with her soft surprise.
"Oops, I didn't mean to intrude, Liza," she said.
My mother turned to her, stepping back towards the bed. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you waiting in the living room like that. You two must have heard everything."
With the two women standing side by side, I noticed slightly dismayed that my mother must have been thirty years older than this rather youthful looking woman in her smart collared shirt and pleated trousers.
"No, it's fine. It's so good to see her finally awake." The stranger hadn't averted her gaze from me and I stiffened like a deer in a bear's line of sight. "She looks so much like you, it's breathtaking."
"Thank you, Esme," my mother replied.
Finally, she looked away, her attention fixed on my mother, and all at once, I could find the air to breathe. "Perhaps, if you'd like, Carlisle and I can come back another time."
Carlisle.
His name stuck like glue and it was in an instant the pieces fell into place. This was his wife. And she was lovely.
"I hate myself for saying this, but yes," my mother agreed, "that would be greatly appreciated. Nalani and I have… much to catch up on."
"Of course. We have to return to the kids anyways before disaster erupts," Esme sighed and glanced at the clock on the bedroom wall. "I would still love to get to know your daughter at another time."
As my mother stepped forward to follow Esme, the woman promptly stopped her. "No. We can see ourselves out, you don't have to go through all the trouble."
"Thank you so much again." When my mother placed a friendly hand on Esme's shoulder, I wondered how close they actually were. "Please tell Dr. Cullen I am in his debt."
"There's no need for that." Esme smiled and her caramel eyes briefly slid over me. "Enjoy your afternoon and get better, Nalani."
The woman disappeared and minutes had passed after I heard the engine of the car outside rev out and fade as they had driven away.
My mother stared through me, arms crossed over her chest,contemplating deeply of what, I had no clue.
"I thought it was still morning," I muttered while taking the picture in my lap and replacing it on the desk face down.
"What would you have done had Dr. Cullen not been there?" She asked. I would have thought the answer was obvious, and because I thought the answer was obvious I replied with natural jokery.
"Probably would've dragged myself up the hill and called 911. Honestly, I didn't even need him."
"Mm-hm. You are just like your father."
And, for once, I was glad she said it. It meant I hadn't changed.
So, had she?
My mother went over to her desk and turned the family picture upright. "Dr. Cullen told me you had one of your episodes in his car."
Dr. Cullen. Is that how I'd refer to him from now on? However, I doubted I'd ever have to use it. I doubted I'd ever see him.
"Did you tell him about my condition?" I asked.
"Yes. He's very invested in your safety." She smiled crookedly. "It's probably because you're my daughter."
I pursed my lips and swung another gaze around the room. "Had I known you would move here, I would've taken a few days off to help you."
"I sent you to your Uncle Micky's place for a reason. You needed to focus on school."
By the forlorn tone of her voice, one would have thought she had me exiled instead.
"So, how have you been holding up?" I asked.
"I'm settling," She said, her curt response left no room for further question.
I wavered, unsure of how to continue the conversation; it was a difficult enough task trying to evade the topic of my accident. "How did you meet Car-Dr. Cullen? Besides him being your boss."
"He's not my boss. That is a common misconception, Nalani." My mother frowned. "We work closely together. He can write me up as easily as I can do the same to him, however he's never given me a reason to do that."
"Okay so… How close are you two?"
"He's twenty years younger than me."
"I wasn't insinuating."
My mother walked over to the window and pulled the blinds. The daylight rendered me blind for a few moments and as my eyes adjusted, she continued, "Dr. Cullen is amazing, I am indebted to him. He has such a wonderful family."
"How is he wonderful?"
"I said "amazing" not "wonderful"."
"No, really, I'm curious."
"It's not important right now." Her mouth set into a stern, unreadable line; I couldn't decipher the source of it. "You should sleep some more while I make us something to eat."
"This is your room isn't it? I can sleep somewhere during my stay. I remember on the phone you told me you started having back problems."
"Did I? Don't worry about it then. That was a long time ago." she waved a hand, nonchalantly. "I can sleep in the guest bedroom. Besides, I don't want to move you."
As she left, I rued that I would have spend an entire month reconciling my idiocy with her.
Fun.