I'm not sure what I'm doing. I guess venting. Reconfiguring my brain. Working out stress and worry the best way I know how.
Over the course of the past number of updates, I've mentioned a couple times that a family member's been in the hospital. That family member is my maternal grandmother, and she's out now. She's back home, but the news isn't nearly as good as any of us had hoped.
She's on borrowed time now. There's nothing we—or her doctors—can do for her. We just have to make her comfortable, and make the most of the time we have left with her. This is the first time I've ever been faced with the idea that someone close to me is dying.
I'm not saying this as a play for sympathy. This isn't about me. As you read this chapter, and anything else that I post from now on, I want you to think of her. It doesn't matter that you don't know her personally. I think you all understand, instinctually, who she is.
Think of a little old lady who wanted nothing more out of life than to take care of her family. Think of a beautiful human being who's always been there for her children, and who's always had faith in her grandson.
When you read my work, I want you to think of the woman who has always been my greatest supporter.
Thank you.
"…My mom's in the hospital."
Joey was sitting outside the shop with his feet splayed out in front of him, his back against the wall, nursing an energy drink the way someone else might nurse a beer. He said it without provocation, as if he knew—and he did—Mokuba would eventually ask him what was going on.
The young Kaiba's sunny smile faded into a concerned frown. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." The blond's voice was resigned, almost breathless, and his eyes were far away, unseeing. "Truth be told, I don't give a shit."
"You sound like you do," Mokuba replied, not sheepishly. He was direct, just like his brother might have been. His was the face of someone who was no stranger to tragedy, and understood—far beyond his years—that his emotions, whatever they were, had no place here. He was calm, collected, and blunt.
Joey eyed him suspiciously. He took a sip from the thin can in his hands. "Yeah. Well, see, there's the part that's fucked, kid. My own mother's in the hospital. She's sick. Like, seriously sick. Don't mean two shits in the wind to me."
Mokuba sat down next to his friend. Joey handed him another, unopened, energy drink.
"You tried these?"
"No. Thanks, but that's okay."
"Nah, go for it. C'mon. Tell your brother I forced it down yer throat."
Mokuba chuckled weakly, took the offered can, and opened it. "Are you sure? I mean, that you don't…care? Maybe…" He drank. The lightly-carbonated liquid burned, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. The black-haired boy licked his lips, and set the can aside.
"Good, right? Listen…legend says, you 'n Kaiba got taken in by yer godparents, 'fore you turned into the state's problem. That right?"
"Yeah."
"Died a while back, right?"
"Mm-hm."
"How much did yer brother care?"
A pang of something unrecognizable struck Mokuba upside the head. He sighed. "He…didn't. He just said 'Thank you' to the person on the phone who told him, and took another call. He didn't even tell me until we got home. He made sure I was sitting down, but…he just…stood there. He wasn't relieved. Or angry. Or…anything. He had his assistant send a flower arrangement to the funeral home the next day. He didn't—he didn't even care enough to spite them."
Joey was nodding. "Yeah. That's about it. See, my mom, she couldn't take Pop's crap anymore. So she up 'n left. Took Ren with her. And bless her for that. My dad was a fuckin' asshole. My baby sister don't need that kind of crap. But me? She just ditched me. Pitched me to the wind. Washed her hands 'n moved on. Left me t' clean up her numb-fuck failure of a marriage."
Mokuba took another drink, because he wasn't sure what else to do. "I'm sorry," he said again.
"I know whatcher thinkin', kid. Don't matter. She's still my mom, right? See you, you don't know what it's like. Livin' with parents like that. And I'm not sayin' that's against you. I'm glad. Kaiba looked out for you. Kaiba took care of you. Kaiba—Kaiba loves you. But my mom…my—you know she didn't even…?" Joey stopped, took several deep breaths in an ultimately futile attempt to curb the rage that was so clear in his too-bright eyes.
"Maybe…maybe she couldn't…afford…?"
But Mokuba couldn't even finish the thought. He could already hear Seto's voice in his head: Then she should have stayed where she was until she could. She should have protected her children. It's never a child's responsibility to clean up an adult's mess.
"Yeah. Bet she tells herself that. Just like she couldn't afford her daughter's eye operation. You know she didn't even thank me for that? Didn't even acknowledge it? Didn't give me a nod, or a pat on the back. No, 'Hey, thanks for doing my fucking job for me.' Nothing. Like it was goddamn expected for me to do it. Like I didn't have a life of my own. Like I couldn't have—like she thought I owed that surgery to her."
Mokuba studied the blond's face, marveling at just how much it looked like Seto's when he was angry beyond honest comprehension.
"Oh, but you know what she can afford? She can afford a new Chevy Cruiser for her birthday last year, 'cuz she wants to treat herself. Never mind the few hundred grand I gave up to make sure—goddamn it. God…fucking damn it!"
"Joey…I…"
"…Sorry, Moku-man. Ain't your problem."
"Serenity knows."
Joey flinched.
"She knows it was her big brother who helped her, when things got really bad. That counts for a lot. Trust me."
Joey took a long swig, leaned his head back and stared up at the sky. "She wants me to visit. Clear the water between us. Bury the hatchet, or whatever."
"Serenity does?" Joey nodded. "So…you don't know what to do. You want to make your sister happy, but you don't want to see your mom. Don't know what to say, don't know why you should lower yourself to that level. Don't want to lie to her, but can't tell the truth."
An odd look. A frown. "How did…?"
"…I tried to get Niisama to see our godmother before she died."
Another swig. "Too damn smart." Raised eyebrow. "Did it work?"
"No. Niisama wouldn't go."
"Did it upset you?"
"…Yeah. For a while."
"I should go, shouldn't I?"
"Maybe."
"I'm gonna end up going, aren't I?"
"Probably."
Joey groaned, rolled his shoulders, and stood up; he stomped down on his empty can, reached down, picked it up and tossed it into a nearby dumpster. With one last deep sigh, he slipped his hands into his pockets and started walking away.
Toward his car.
He turned. "…Hey. Mokuba."
"Mm?" Mokuba still sat, sipping daintily as though he were testing fine wine.
"Thanks."
"Welcome."
