Sorry for the delay. Busy week/weekend. But here's a nice long one for you!
After everyone had gone home and they were cleaning up, Sam noticed that Winn was very quiet.
"You okay? I know you've gone through a lot today."
"Yeah, I have. To tell the truth, I'm a little worried about seeing my mother tomorrow."
"Why?"
"It's been a long time. Other than today, when I was rude to her, the last time I saw her was the morning before I went to school on the day my father was arrested. She kissed me and handed me my lunch and that was it. When I finished school for the day, a social worker was waiting for me. They told me about my father and said my mom was gone.
"I was eleven. I've changed. She's changed. What if…"
"Winn, you're her son, she's going to love you no matter what."
"What if I don't love her?"
"Unless she's a monster, you will. It may take some time to reconnect, but you will."
He sighed. "Do you remember your mom?"
"A little. I was three when she died."
"What do you remember?"
"She was beautiful. Unfortunately, I look like my dad, not her."
"Stop that." He warned.
She smiled. "No, but she was so beautiful. Like a fairy princess. She used to read me all those princess fairy tales and I always saw her as the princess. I think that's why I stopped liking them as I grew up. She was in them for me and it hurt too much. It wasn't until I met Marni that I started liking them again."
"Because Marni became your mom."
She laughed. "That's true! Well, mother hen anyway."
He said quietly, "How did she…"
"An aneurysm. It just burst one day and that was it. I don't remember all of this, but my dad told me later. I was taking my nap—I was only three – and when I woke up, I went downstairs and she was on the sofa. I thought she was taking a nap too, so I didn't bother her. I went back to my room and started playing with my toys. It was a few hours later that my dad came home and found her."
"So you were three and you were alone in the house with your dead mother?" he was incredulous.
"Apparently. I really don't remember much of that day except that my mom went away and didn't say goodbye. And then when I realized she'd had that aneurysm in her head all her life and it suddenly burst, I started to worry, did I have one too?"
He had a worried frown as he said, "Wait, could-?"
"No, I had a full checkup with an MRI. I'm clean."
He breathed a sigh of relief.
"The thing is," she continued, "Even though I was really young and don't remember a lot, I do remember how much she loved me. I'd love to see her again and tell her how my life has turned out. Especially to meet you."
She put her hand on his cheek. "So I think your mother is going to be fine with whatever you are. And you'll be fine too."
He smiled. "Where would I be without you? Oh, and I bet you're as beautiful as your mother was."
"No, I'm not."
"Got any pictures?"
"Yes." She ran to the bedroom and came back with a photograph. "This is my parents when they got engaged."
He looked at the photo of a dark, serious man and a smiling woman with honey blonde hair. She was beautiful, but then he noticed something.
"You have her smile."
"No, I don't."
"No, look." He led her to a mirror. "Now smile, really smile."
She did and he held up the photo next to her.
"See, you have the exact same smile."
She looked and she saw it. "I never realized. Maybe because I'm older now. I'm actually older than she was when she died."
He put his arms around her from behind and looked at their faces in the mirror.
"Yeah, I think she'd be proud of you. But not because of me. Because of the amazing woman you've become on your own."
He rested his head on her shoulder. "And I think my mom will be happy with me too."
The next day, he still entered the coffee shop with some trepidation. She was sitting at a table in the back. He'd arrived a few minutes early, but she'd still beat him there.
He took a deep breath and walked towards the table. She saw him looking around, so when he approached, she gave him a nervous smile.
"Sorry, I kept you waiting, I…" he said as he sat down.
"No, I got here really early. I wanted to be sure I could find it and I was …anxious."
He nodded, not sure what to say.
Finally, he started, "So, I want to apologize for yesterday. I didn't know."
"It's alright. I didn't know how to tell you."
"Tell me now. What happened?"
She sighed. "When the police came to arrest your father, I didn't believe it and I got really excited and screamed and probably got a little violent. They were taking away my husband! He couldn't murder anyone. I was a little hard to control. The police dragged me away as well. Then a doctor talked to me and I was taken to a hospital. When I realized what was happening, I kept trying to tell them about you. I didn't want you to come home to an empty house and no way of knowing what happened. I guess they took care of that?"
"A social worker came to school and picked me up. They told me about Dad, but when I asked about you, she said she didn't know. They put me in Juvenile protection and I kept asking about you. Finally, they told me that you ran away and they didn't know where you were."
She put her hand over her mouth. "Oh no! No wonder you hate me. They kept me in the hospital for twenty-two months. I kept asking about you, but they wouldn't tell me anything.
"When I got out, I went to Social Services immediately to find out where you were. They told me you were in foster care and I would have to petition the court to see you. So, that's what I did, but they denied me. I tried again, same result. I even tried to get the chance to just visit you, but they wouldn't let me. When I asked why, I couldn't get a good answer. Just kept saying I was mentally unstable. I wasn't."
He was silent, listening to everything she told him.
"By the time you turned eighteen," she continued. "I couldn't petition any longer, but they couldn't keep me from seeing you. I found out where you went to college, so I tried sending you letters."
He interrupted her. "I got them, but I didn't want to hear from you. I assumed you didn't want me any longer. Or that the whole situation was too much for you. I was so angry that I didn't care about trying to understand what you were going through."
"I didn't …I tried…" she started.
"I know. I should have realized that you wouldn't desert me. I guess I just felt so abandoned that hate was easier than understanding."
Tears started to pool in her eyes as she thought about her little boy lost and abandoned.
"No, please, don't cry!" he said. "Please, Mom, don't…"
She smiled then. "I've waited a long time to hear you call me Mom again."
He smiled too. She reached out and took his hand, then used her other one to stroke his cheek.
"You've grown into such a handsome man."
He rolled his eyes at that.
She touched the little scar on his chin. "What is this?"
"Car accident when I was thirteen. A piece of glass sliced my chin."
"Oh no! You could have been killed!"
"If it had hit my neck, yeah. But it didn't."
"Still, I could have lost you before I even got you back again."
She looked at his left hand that she was holding and saw the wedding band.
"And you're married." she said.
He nodded.
"The young lady that was at the funeral with you."
"Samantha—Sam. We've been married a few months."
"Are you happy?"
"Yes. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. And I've got good friends too."
"The other people that were there?"
"Yeah." He stopped and looked at her. "How about you? Are you happy? What are you…?"
"I work at the library in the next town. It doesn't pay a lot, but I enjoy it and I get by."
"Why didn't you ever divorce him? No one would have blamed you."
She shrugged. "It didn't really matter. I spent so many years trying to get custody of you, I didn't have the time or money to get a divorce. Besides, despite everything, I still loved him. I knew I could never love another man like that, so what was the point?"
"Really? You still loved him?"
"Didn't you?"
"No I hated him. Did you know he escaped a few years ago and tried to get me to kill Dunholtz for him?"
"I saw it on the news."
"So how could you think I still loved him?"
"Because he was your father. And he was sick."
Winn looked away so she wouldn't see that she'd struck a nerve. "Anyway, he's gone now, so we don't have to worry about him or his crazy vendetta anymore."
She nodded and they chatted about normal things after that. He noticed that she still seemed a little shaky.
"Mom, are you feeling okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just still nervous."
He smiled at her. "No need to be. We're …fine. Or, we will be. I know we can't go back and reclaim those years, but we'll start from today and have a new relationship. And I want you to meet my wife."
He texted Sam, who was hanging out in a store across the street. A few minutes later, she joined them.
"Sam," Winn said. "This is my mom. Mom, this is my wife, Sam."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Schott." Sam said.
"Oh, it's so wonderful to meet you. And please call me Miriam."
Sam smiled, especially when she saw how happy Winn was.
They chatted for a while longer, then parted with promises to meet again soon. Before leaving, Winn and his mother looked at each other awkwardly for a few moments, then Miriam pulled him into a hug.
"I'm so happy to have my boy again."
They held the hug for some time before breaking apart.
As they headed home, Sam could see her husband was overcome with emotion.
"How are you doing?" she asked him.
"I'm good." He answered, holding back tears. ""I got my mom back. I never thought…it's just," he turned to her, "Thank you."
"I didn't…"
"You looked into it. You made me see it." He grabbed her hand. "I don't know what my life would be without you."
Now she was crying and she put her head on his shoulder. "Me too."
The description of how he got his scar is what Jeremy has said interviews happened to him. Thought I might as well use the real reason. He also said that if it had been a little lower, it would have sliced his throat.
Still love to hear from anyone who is reading!