FOURTY-FOUR

It's Dad. Your mother… she's coming home.

It's Dad. Your mother… she's coming home.

It's Dad. Your mother… she's-

-"Jean."

Marco snapped me from my sudden trance. I kept hearing the message in my head like a damaged disc. I was frozen in place, -"Marco… its Mom, she's…"- My voice was shaky. Was I nervous?

-"I know,"- My quizzical expression made him smile again, -"I prayed for her too."

My eyes watered in a second. I hugged him abruptly, forgetting our discussion a few minutes ago. I started crying on his shoulder. How much can he do for me? I've never had someone who'd pray for me –well, not for me exactly, but to benefit me.

-"You should go. Let me call mom so she can take you."

-"No, it's fine. But…"

-"Don't worry about me or school. I'll write down your material,"- I noted his voice dimming, -"Go. Make things right with her."

I felt awful for leaving him and the discussion incomplete, but then again, it's not like it was getting anywhere. Now that I think about it, I'm glad Dad texted me before Marco would break up with me. I really didn't wanted to hear those words from him. I think he was also glad.

Without further ado, I kissed him goodbye –he wasn't expecting it, and ran out, sun burning down on me. I trotted all the way to my house, thoughts going in and out –or better yet, questions. How would she react to the guy who put her in the hospital in the first place? What would she say? What will she do? I was nervous and scared, but felt anew, like I had a purpose now. I could make things right with her again. It's the least I can do before she… she dies. She raised me, gave me everything and all I did was treat her wrong.

When I reached home, all sweaty and stinky, I started to clean it, just like I cleaned Nana's several times. I specially leaved her bedroom just like it was when she first slept there; I cleaned the dust out of it, which was a lot, I washed her clothing, dried it and tended them back in her drawers. I washed the dishes –which painfully reminded me of our last fight.

I shook my head and hurried to take a bath. I needed to be in a good guise, right? Besides, I stink! Mom never liked that. When I finished, I chanced into blue jeans and a white elbow length sleeved blouse. With a quick knot on my Converse, I headed downstairs to answer the door. My heart throbbed faster. This is it, Jean.

I slowly opened the door to meet Dad's unwelcoming expression, -"Where have you been? I went to school to pick you up."

-"I, uh…"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, -"Thank God I ran into Marco first."

I smiled a bit. I was to about to ask him about Mom when a pitch and recognizable voice rang out, -"Huh? Who's there?"

I quickly passed by Dad, -"Mom!"- I rushed towards her. She was in a wheelchair. She looked older, haggard and… scraggy. I fell my heart hanging. Her expression detained me. She had her eyebrows crooked as she eyed me from top to bottom, as if trying to figure out who I was.

I was breathless, unable to react at her inability to recognize me, -"This is Jean. You remember your son, right?"- Dad spoke for me.

She tilted her head, -"I have a son? He can't be this handsome."

-"We have a son."

She looked at Dad just as she looked at me a few seconds ago, -"We? Who the hell are you?"

Dad laughed lowly. My heart warmed a bit. She hasn't lost her bad tongue, -"I'm your husband."

She stared at Dad for a few seconds, -"Oh. Bah, it's you. I thought it was someone better-looking," – I laughed lowly too. She was definitely Mom, -"And what're you laughing at, Johnny?"

I gasped and breathed deeply, relieved, -"You remember me…"

-"Of course, like I could ever forget you."- She said, waving me off. She also hasn't lost her brash and grumpy attitude.

You just did, like a second ago. I thought, but stayed quiet, figuring it had to do with her tumor.

Dad pushed the chair inside and I just noticed doctor Zackly looming behind her, -"I must speak with you."- He said, walking past me.

-"Uh... sure."

Inside, Dad was trying to remind Mom that this was her home. The doctor and I stayed at the door, -"You must not leave her desolated. Always keep an eye on her. You will stay with her for her last three months. I shall speak with your professors on the matter,"- He spoke, not giving me a chance to answer, -"I have lend her medicines in her rucksack. All of them. You must read them carefully and memorize the accurate time for her dosage."

So much instructions. My head throbbed, -"Okay, okay, anything else I should know?"

-"Be warned; await more… episode of amnesia and bipolarity. I have lend pills for that as well,"- He said and sighed, -"I have done all that is in my power to dilate her life span. Now… it is up to you."

I gulped, feeling a bit unsure about the responsibility upon me, but I nodded nonetheless.

-"Good. Speak with your father before he departs."- And with that, the doctor left.

Dad was leaning Mom in her couch, -"There. Better?"

-"Yeah, yeah, now move your ass. I can't see."- She spat, quickly taking the TV's control and changing channels.

Dad walked towards me, placing 40 bucks on the table, -"I have work, son. Can you do this?"

-"Why can't you stay? I don't understand. We both need to be here for her."- I quickly said, somewhat mad that he "had" to work. Wasn't Mom more important?

-"And in order for you two to stay here, in this house, I need to work,"- He knelt in front of me and placed his hand on my shoulders, -"Please, son. Can you do this?"

I shrugged, but then nodded, -"Y-yeah…"

-"I know you can,"- He gave me a tight hug before standing up, -"Here's the doctor's phone number if you have a question. I love you."

-"Love you too."- I said, retraining the piece of paper in my pocket and watched as he mounted his car and rode off.

I saved the number on my phone and dumped the paper before turning towards Mom, -"Hey, Mom."- I said, approaching her from her side.

She had her eyes glued on the TV. A warming feeling enveloped me. I missed seeing her here…

-"What is it, boy?"- She asked, not even looking at me.

I smiled, -"Nothing. Just checking if you were alright."

-"Hmph."

The old Jean would've spat back at her for being kind of ungrateful, but this one won't. This one was different. The least she needed was a stupid, spoiled prick.

I walked towards the table, taking her rucksack with me. I opened it and placed each of her medicines in it. I counted at least fifteen. Damn. I read them all, one by one and dropped them carefully on her pillbox on the specified day. I wrote the day and hours in a paper and plugged it on the fridge with a magnet. Out of all the medicines, only two caught my eye: Adapin, an antidepressant pill and Atarax, for anxiety. I spotted a few relaxing herbs for tea; a note –a recipe, was attached to the small box with the bags filled with herbs: Valerian, green tea…

I glanced at Mom. She looked… calmed. For now.

In a few hours, she needed to take a dosage, which required her to eat before taking it. I walked towards her, -"Hey, are you hungry?"- I asked.

-"No."- She spat, not taking her eyes off her novel.

-"But you need to eat before taking your pills."

-"I don't wanna."- She was acting like a little girl.

I grimaced. Well, this was harder than I though. What the fuck were you expecting, dumbass?

-"Mom…"- I repeated.

Nothing.

I sighed and decided to try again later. In the meantime, I roamed around the house, keeping an eye on her. I asked her a few times if she wanted to eat –anything to set in a conversation really, but she was like a brick: expressionless, impervious, she answered with a 'no' or a shrug. I was growing desperate.

No, no, no, no, Jean. Calm down, I decided to distract myself, so I went upstairs quickly and snatched the first thing I saw in my room: a portable PlayStation, PSP. I had Daxter on and started playing it in the sofa beside her chair.

I glanced at the clock. It was time for her dosage, -"Mom, you really need to eat something before taking the pills."

-"I don't wanna take the goddamn pills."

-"But you need them-"

-"I said no!"- She yelled, this time turning to me with a sharp look.

I leant back a bit, abruptly.

-"Hmph."

Jesus fuck.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I really didn't know what to do now. I placed myself in her shoes and though that maybe she was fed up with pills frequently in the hospital. Is that why she didn't want to take them?

-"H-how are you feeling?"- I asked her out of the blue.

-"Fine."

-"Are you sure?"

She just nodded.

I sighed in defeat. Well, this was a losing battle. If she was feeling alright, then I can't give her the pills. I wasn't sure how that tumor worked on her mind, but if she really was in pain, then she'd ask for them.

I decided to give her some space and headed upstairs, leaving my door open in case she called. I played PS3 for a long time, sometimes pausing and checking on her. I kept asking her if she was hungry, but nothing else than a soulless 'no' came out of her.

I was in lobby, waiting for people to join a match with me when I heard a sudden screak and footsteps. I quickly shot up from bed and peeked out. She was walking upstairs, -"A-are you okay?"

She nodded and walked towards the bathroom.

I stood near my door, eyes on the bathroom and ears attentive. Silent minutes passed. I walked towards the bathroom and knocked lightly, -"Mom, are you okay in there?"

-"I'm fine, boy."

-"Okay. Just… call me if you need anything."- I said and started walking to my room.

-"Paper."

-"Huh?"- I turned around again.

-"I need toilet paper."

-"Oh, sure,"- I walked to the small depot we had at the end of the hallway and took the last roll of paper. Shit, I needed to buy more, -"Here."

She opened the door slightly and I looked away in case she felt uncomfortable. She snatched the roll from my hand and shut the door again. After a while, she came out and walked downstairs. I sighed and continued to play.

By 6 o'clock, she was already falling asleep on her chair, -"Mom…"- I called her.

She was groggily, trying to maintain focus on the TV, -"She's trying to… to…"- She muttered, pointing at the novel.

-"You're falling asleep,"- I pointed out stupidly, -"I'll take you to bed."

-"No!"- She suddenly snapped and I stepped back, -"Let me finish, dammit."

My heart skipped a bit. I thought she was going to punch me or something. I reached for my PSP and played while I waited for her novel to finish. Yet, in a matter of minutes, she was sound asleep. I lifted her up, bride style and carried her upstairs without problems. She didn't weighted like she used to and that worried me.

I lent her down on her bed cautiously and lifted her sheets up to her shoulders, turning on the small fan on her night table. I sighed at her thin shape; was it a symptom of her condition or was she lacking nutriment? I'd had to ask Zackly for that. If I find out that the hospital didn't nurtured her well, I'll storm the goddamn place.

I decided to sleep early too, just in case.

Next day, the first thing I saw was Mom trying to cook something. Shit, I woke up late. Then again, I couldn't go to sleep until she goes to sleep.

I rushed to her, -"Mom, let me do it."

She clicked her tongue, -"As if you can do anything."

Well, that kind of hurt, -"Come on, let me try. You're gonna hurt yourself."

-"Bah. I know what I'm doin'."

I sighed in defeated. I helped her getting the ingredients though. When she finished, I realized she made breakfast for her. She took the sandwich, walked to her chair, sat and turned on the TV. At least she's eating, I though. Her next dosage was in a few hours. In the meantime, I prepared a sandwich for me.

-"It's time for your pills."- I said when she finished her sandwich.

She shook her head, making a face, -"Nu-uh."

-"Why not? The doctor said you need to-"

-"I don't care!"- She said, raising her voice, -"I've had enough o' those."

So I was right, -"Okay. I understand. Call me if you need anything."

She looked at me, a bit perplexed at my intellect. I smiled and hurried to wash the dishes before she did. It was like a dance throughout the day. I did all the house's chores before she could. At the end, there was nothing else for her to do, so she sat again in her chair and continued watching her novel.

During midday, she started making something and I again helped her. She was struck by my support, considering I've never helped her with anything, but said nothing about it. She made macaroni and cheese and when she finished, she poured a load of it in a bowl and sat on her chair again. When I looked over at the pot, my stomach grumbled at the little amount left, but it was enough. I poured it into another bowl and ate it in minutes.

After that, I started reading one of those cooking books that have a lot of recipes in it. I decided to try and make something for her tomorrow, so when nighttime came, I went to sleep just after she went to bed and turned on the alarm on my phone at 7:00.

In the morning after the alarm rang, I was relieved to see her still sleeping, so I tip-toed downstairs and with the book on hand, I started making simple pancakes. The book explained to be extra careful when flipping it. Come on, it can't be that hard. I can't be that bad at cooking, -"Fuck!"- I cursed when I accidentally touched the hot pan with my hand as I tried to steady it. I began to mix the ingredients in a bowl, creating the thick mash. Abruptly, I pulled my hand away due to the burnt and hit the bowl, dropping a bit of the mash on my clothes, -"Shit!"

Well, this was harder than I though. I've flipped the pancake like ten times already. Instead of a circular form, it looked like crumbled eggs. I tried making another, reading the page over and realizing I forgot to spread butter on the pan. I placed my hand on my forehead. That's why it was so difficult to flip! It kept getting stuck on the pan!

After five tries, I managed to flip the second pancake and placed it on a plate. It was slightly burnt, but not as horrible as the last one. I poured syrup in it, accidentally dropping more than I had to for pressing forcefully. Small drops cascaded down on the counter. Well shit, I had a mess in the kitchen. Ignoring it, I rushed towards Mom's room and saw her waking up, -"Hey, Mom."- I said and slowly approached her with the plate on hand.

She opened her eyes and made a face, -"Ugh, what's that smell? Are you burning the house?"

-"I, uh... made breakfast for you."

-"You did?"- She said, eyes widening.

I nodded. When she sat up, I placed the plate on her lap.

She snorted, -"You didn't set the kitchen on fire, did you?"

I smiled. She knew how bad I've always been on the kitchen, -"No, thank God,"- I sat beside her. When she took the first bite and made another face, I bit my lip, -"I... tried."

With the face she had after swallowing, I thought she was going to yell at me for how bad it was, but instead, she smiled, something I haven't seen in her in a long time. Even if the tumor in her head may be responsible for her mood today, I smiled too and my hopes of patching our relation increased.

I headed downstairs after that and cleaned the kitchen. When she walked down, she was surprised at how cleaned I left it. After all that, like always, she sat on her chair to watch TV and I did something I should've done a long time before, -"So, why is she always fighting with her dad?"- I sat on the sofa and kept her company, watching the novel with her.

Again, she looked at me perplexed and then clicked her tongue, -"Are you gonna ask many questions?"

-"I was just wondering."

She kept quiet, but after a few minutes, -"Her dad is only tryin' to keep her safe since he's sick –she doesn't know that and he doesn't want her to know."

-"I think she has to know. The sooner, the better. It'll hurt more later."

Mom shook her head, -"It's not that easy for him."

-"And from what is he protecting her from?"

-"There's this asshole that wants to marry her since her family has this big ass farm. They're rich kids and that's what he wants,"- Mom spoke, keeping her attention on the screen, -"If her dad dies, then the farm is hers and then that bastard will take advantage of that. That's why her dad is trying to separate her and she's mad at him."

-"So, her dad is like… trying to stay alive then?"

Mom nodded, -"For her. She's still young and naïve. If she knew her daddy is dying…,"- Her voice dimmed, -"A lot o' things will change."

I shifted position, -"Ok, but if she knows, then she can take care of him and avoid his illness to worsen,"- I had a tight knot in my throat. All this sounded familiar, -"And while she's at it… they can sew up their relation."

Again, she shook her head, -"It's not that easy."

I sighed and kept watching the novel with her, a bit afraid of her words. I just hoped this novel wasn't like that manga in the library.