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And the only person whose touch I craved wasthousands of miles away, on a different continent, probably picking a fight with a crocodile just to show herself that she could.
Mom began full-out bawling.
“She did this?” I could barely make out her hoarse whisper. “She made you touch again?”
“Yes.”
You have no idea. She taught me more than I could ever hope to learn.
“But… how?”
The news must’ve broken a piece of her brain.
She’d sunk an entire mega-mansion down payment into psychologists, therapists, doctors, and even hypnotists. Specialists from all over the world. The best in their fields.
None of them had ever managed to help me.
Not even a little.
“It’s simple.” I drew my hand from her grip. “She made touching her utterly irresistible. She showed me warmth, and courage, and a passion for life I’ve never seen before. She made me forget about work. About empty achievements. She made me…” I flashed back to my time with Farrow. A small smile formed on my lips. “She made me eat junk food. And drink shitty beer.”
“Oh, Zachary.” Mom sounded equal parts appalled and amused. “That is extremely unpalatable.” She paused, the makings of a grin starting to spread. “But did it make you happy?”
“It made me thrilled. Before Farrow, I’d forgotten how to be happy. I would give anything to bring her back.”
Mom peered down at her blanketed legs. A wrinkle creased the gap between her brows. The woman who tore through thousand-dollar face masks had aged a decade in mere hours.
She looked helpless against the world.
“I need to tell you something, Zachary.”
I stared at her in silence.
I hadn’t lied when I’d told Farrow I thought someone in the universe was messing with me. My flight would leave in ninety-seven minutes.
The countdown ticked by the second.
Meanwhile, I sat in the middle of a deathbed confession, sans the deathbed. Such a cruel trick from fate that, despite endless opportunities to have this discussion at home, we’d chosen to debate weather and stocks over bland lunches.
“What is it?”
“I…” Mom brought her fist to her lips to suppress a cough. Blue-and-purple veins ran on the back of her hand like a familiar map. “I respect Farrow for handling the way I treated her well.”
“Beyond the attempted bribe?”
Yes, I’d witnessed that. Through the bay windows on Farrow’s first day.
The sight of her declining the check had stirred curiosity in me.
“Yes. A few petty tricks to get her off your back.” Mom stared at her covered feet. “She fended them off well.”
“She’s strong like that.”
Perhaps I should’ve been angry.
I wasn’t.
For starters, I expected it. In fact, I’d anticipated worse.
