Marcus had dropped him off to the condo after the mostly silent car ride. Mike didn't know what transpired between his grandparents and Uncle Marcus but he could feel the tension. Uncle Marcus had dropped him off to Harvey's condo and stated that he was going to make a quick trip to drop his parents at their hotel and come back up to say goodbye to Mike.
Mike had made his way upstairs, using the emergency key Uncle Marcus had given him this morning. Mike walked inside and placed the key on the counter. He closed the door and made his way over to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He was exhausted and wanted to be alone. He never thought it would be so tiring pretending to be okay. Every smile felt like a lie, every "I'm fine" like a betrayal to his true feelings. It felt like the world was too much at the moment. He thought everyone would see through him; he was just a kid who had lost his mom, of course he would be angry at the world and upset. The pain was unbearable, a constant ache that gnawed at his heart, leaving him feeling hollow and broken.
He missed his mom, it had been them against the world for the last twelve years and he wasn't ready to let it go. He wanted to hug and cry to his mom. It was so unfair, he was too young to be going through this. His mom had been the only constant in his life. He longed for her comforting voice, her warm embrace, and the way she made everything seem alright, no matter how bad things got. The world felt so much colder and lonelier without her, and he didn't know how he was supposed to navigate through it all alone.
The doctor had told them three months for the cancer to take over. He had also provided them with the information that the cancer was progressing to stage four. Mike had to look up what that meant but he found out that according to those calculations, she should have been around at least until his thirteenth birthday. But the cancer took his mom one month too early.
They had spent chemotherapy sessions planning every aspect of Mike's thirteenth birthday. Every session they would discuss: what they would do, what kind of cake they would spend hours baking together, and the food that would be catered. Mike had wrote everything down in case his mom would forget their talks. The chemotherapy visits always left his mom feeling so tired. Although she never mentioned it to him, Mike had noticed that she would spent the evenings sleeping. Mike would spend the same time researching cancer, he hoped to find anything and everything regarding treatment options. He would occasionally check up in his mom, leaving her glasses of water on the nightstand, and watching her sleep. She looked so small in her bed. When Mike would look at her, his heart would break for his mom and the pain that she was suffering from.
He didn't blame his mom for leaving him. He could never blame her for anything. She had been his entire world. He had seen her through everything; her happy days, her sad days, her days filled with struggle and pain. He knew that she was fighting for him. The stubborn part of him had wished that she fought so hard the cancer would just go away, but the more practical part of him wanted his mom to stop fighting it, he wanted her to just let go and stop being in pain.
Over the year, Mike picked up on subtle hints that she wasn't doing so good. He had bought himself a burner phone and kept it tucked away in his pocket all the time, just in case he needed to call someone. He had told himself it would be for the worst case scenario. He hadn't expected that scenario to come true.
He had memorized what he would do if she ever needed to be taken to the hospital. Step one would be to call the taxi service to take him and mom to the hospital. Step two was to pray that this was a false alarm and she would wake up cancer-free. His plan never made it past step three.
He didn't know Harvey's phone number so calling him was out of the scope of Mike's abilities. He had been banking on his mom pulling through. He had focused everything on the fact that one day she would wake up and the cancer would just be gone. He had been waiting to wake up from this horrible dream. Instead, he was stuck in his worst nightmare, and he was watching it unfold in front of him.
The memories engulfed him in sadness, he was too young to be experiencing this. Every memory had made him feel alone in the world, like no one knew what this felt like. It was such an ugly feeling and he had never wanted to experience it again. Harvey had told him that everyone at the funeral was experiencing the same sense of loss he was, but they had all left, and Mike doubted they would think about his mom for more than 24 hours.
Mike would think about it for the rest of his life; every speech and school function his mom wouldn't see, every graduation ceremony his mom would never attend, and every birthday she wouldn't celebrate with him. He knew that cliche that his mom was always in his heart but that feeling and her physical presence were two very different things.
Mike let out a sigh and his thoughts shifted to his interruption at his mom's funeral. His eidetic memory began to replay the scene over and over again. Each play through had left him feel even worse than before. He knew that he should find Harvey and apologize. He didn't mean to say all that. He shouldn't have said that to his dad. Mike saw how much time and effort Harvey had put into arranging the best possible funeral for his mom. He realized how much his dad was hurting too, and how hard Harvey had tried to honor her memory.
The memories had brought forth things he didn't see in the moment, like the way his dad had meticulously chosen the flowers, the music, and even the readings, all to make sure it was perfect. The memories allows him to notice the dark circles under his dad's eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly when he thought no one was looking. All of a sudden, it was clear that Harvey was trying to hold everything together for Mike's sake, even though he was falling apart inside. Mike felt a pang of guilt every time he thought about his outburst. He knew he had to fix things, but the words seemed to stick in his throat whenever he tried to speak.
His thoughts were interrupted when there was a soft knock on the condo door. Mike didn't know how long he had been sitting on the bed, he had forgotten that Uncle Marcus was coming back.
He didn't know his uncle very well, but they did video call him from time to time, which is more than what Harvey did. Uncle Marcus would always call in special occasions, and sometimes just to see how he was doing. Mike would never admit it but he always hoped that Harvey would call him even if it was just to wish him a happy birthday or something. Slowly, his uncle had taken that place in his heart and Mike found himself sharing things with Marcus that he didn't expect to share with anymore.
After opening the door and letting Uncle Marcus inside, Mike sat down on the sofa, he tucked his left foot under his right knee and leaned back, he shifted his gaze to his uncle. They sat in silence for a moment before Marcus spoke asking Mike how he was doing. Mike had brushed it off saying that he was fine, but Marcus saw right through him. Mike finally broke down, telling him every stupid emotion he was feeling. He told his uncle that life was so unfair, and he didn't know what he did to deserve this. The mental breakdown had brought forth tears turned into loud sobs escaping Mikes mouth.
Marcus had move closer to Mike, rubbing his back, and calmed him down. He had talked to Mike about grief and the process of grief. He had provided Mike with the stages of grief. The conversation had left Mike with the understanding that he was somewhere between anger and bargaining. That meant that he had depression and acceptance left to get through. Having something tangible to work through had provided a different perspective. He could work his way through those emotions and eventually get through to the other end.
The conversation shifted when Uncle Marcus had began to share stories of Harvey and his mom. Marcus rattled off tales of Nina and Harvey together. Hearing about dates between Harvey and his mom that had gone terribly wrong had made Mike howl with laughter. Mike tried to remember the last time he laughed so hard but couldn't conjure up the memory.
In this moment, Mike wished more than anything that Marcus could be his dad. Even if Marcus wasn't his biological dad, he had been more of a father figure than Harvey had been. He wanted to move in with his uncle and leave everything behind. He wanted someone who understood him and his pain. Someone who actually listened to him and made him feel wanted.
Instead, he was stuck with Harvey, who clearly didn't want to take care of him and made that obvious six years ago when he stopped coming around. Mike had come to terms years ago that Harvey had abandoned him. He knew his mom didn't want him to think like that but whenever he let his thoughts wander, they always ended in the same place. He didn't know whether or not he could trust Harvey to do anything, let alone stick around.
Mike looked up slightly as the door creaked open, revealing a sad Harvey. Mike immediately looked back at his Uncle Marcus, laughing at whatever he had just said. Mike hadn't been paying attention for several minutes, but right now, the anger he felt towards his dad was growing inside of him. He couldn't understand why Harvey couldn't be more like Marcus—someone who was always there for him, someone who made him feel valued and understood. The contrast between the two figures in his life was stark, and it only fueled his resentment even more.
Marcus got up to leave, Mike felt a pang of disappointment, wishing his uncle could stay longer and continue to be the comforting presence he so desperately needed. Finally, Mike stood up and hugged Marcus tightly, feeling a sense of warmth and security in his uncle's embrace. As the door closed behind Marcus, the comforting presence was replaced by a surge of emotions that Mike struggled to contain. He went to his room, closed and locked the door, seeking a moment of solitude.
Mike was so angry at the world, he wanted to punch the wall or at least shatter something. The world was so unfair sometimes. He balled his hand into a fist and punched the air, letting the tears roll down his face. He had found the letter his mom had left him moments before Harvey and Marcus entered. He had taken the letter with him when he retreated back to his room to take off his suit. He stayed in the room for a few moments reading the letter, and safely tucking it away in between pages of one of his books.
He had been reading the letter over and over after, his mom's words had brought his comfort. It had been the only thing that was helping, he didn't know why Harvey decided to send him back with Marcus. What did Harvey have to do that Mike couldn't be witness to? Mike was only twelve but his mom never left him out of anything, it felt like Harvey was driving a wedge between them by not involving Mike.
The memories of being abandoned were still fresh in his mind, and every time Harvey tried to do something nice, it just reminded Mike of the times he wasn't there. Mike could feel the anger building up inside. He didn't have anger issues but the subconscious resentment that he had towards Harvey was starting to show.
Mike had the urge to punch something, anything. He couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal. How could Harvey just walk back into his life and expect everything to be okay? Why did Harvey care about Mike all of a sudden? Where was he all those years ago? Mike doesn't remember Harvey leaving but the lack of father figure in his life had impacting him a lot. Every classmate and friend would talk about how their dad would teach them how to ride bikes, how to throw a baseball and how they would watch the game together. Instead of doing those things, Mike had spent majority of his childhood with his mom, learning about cancer. He didn't know what he hoped to find from his research but it had been the only thing he could come up with to help.
The tears began to collect in his eyes, they threatened to roll down his cheeks. Mike quickly wiped them away aggressively. He was getting irritated that his response to everything had been crying lately. Mike didn't know what he was feeling but it felt like a combination of every negative emotion he's ever felt.
He wanted his life to go back to normal; he wanted his mom back. He longed to live in the Brooklyn house again, where every corner held memories of a happier time. He wanted to ride his bike through the familiar streets and hang out with his friends on the weekends, laughing and playing without a care in the world. He missed sitting at his desk, doing his homework, and getting lost in the pages of his favorite books. He missed his old life so much it hurt.
At some point, his thoughts and memories had put him in soft sleep. He was laying on top of the blankets, trying his best to cuddle into them and get warm. The room was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. As he drifted between sleep and wakefulness, memories of his mom and their plans for his birthday haunted his dreams. The sadness was almost unbearable, and it left him awake and blinking his eyes. He was staring at the ceiling again.
He couldn't shake off the guilt that had been gnawing at him since the funeral. He knew he had to make things right with Harvey. If he didn't talk to Harvey right now, he would lose his nerve and never be able to say anything to him. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and made his way to Harvey's room.
He found Harvey laying on the sofa. Mike hesitated for a moment, watching Harvey sleep. He looked uncomfortable sprawled across the sofa, still in his suit. But Mike wasn't sure what the protocol for dad's sleeping on the sofa. Mike took a deep breath and gently shook Harvey's shoulder. "Harvey, wake up," he whispered.
Harvey groggily opened his eyes, confusion written across his face. He felt wide awake, "Mike? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
"I'm sorry," Mike blurted out, his voice choked with emotion. He felt himself breaking, every sentence was coming out with the threat of more tears. In between sobs, he manages to say, "I'm sorry for how I acted at the funeral. I was hurting, and I took it out on you. It wasn't fair. I just didn't know how to handle everything, and I took it out on you because you were there." He let out a shaky breath through his nostrils, trying his best to contain him composure.
Harvey now fully awake sat up, he patted the spot on the sofa next to him. His eyes focusing on the pain in Mike's expression. "Mike", he sighed. Harvey's face expression softened looking at his son next to him, "it's okay". He paused for a minute before continuing, "We were all hurting."
He wrapped an arm around Mike, gliding his hand up and down Mike's arm ever so slightly, like he had seen Marcus do moments earlier. "No, it's not okay," Mike insisted, tears welling up in his eyes. "I miss her so much, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I still don't know how to deal with it, why is this so hard?"
Harvey continued his movements hoping it was providing some comfort, "I miss her too, Mike."
The room was silent except for the soft sound of Harvey's hand against the fabric of Mike's shirt. The weight of their shared grief hung heavy in the air, but in that moment, they found a small measure of solace in each other's presence.
Mike was beginning to feel tired again, his courage to continue with this brave act was slowly dying out. He let out a stifled yawn, before speaking, "I'm sorry for waking you up. But seriously, Harvey, you should get up from the sofa and go to bed. It's not the most comfortable place to sleep."
As he made his way to his room, Mike felt a sense of peace for the first time in days. He knew it would take time, but maybe Harvey wasn't so bad.