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And I fall back onto my bed.
And I sob like a fucking baby.
I ache for myself.
But I still ache for Mal more.
38
Mal
Mom is there in her room. Dad is beside her.
He leans over to whisper something in her ear.
She whispers back.
I sit in one of the scratchy green chairs and do everything I can to make conversation. I pretend like things with Mom haven't been fucked for the last ten years. I go back to when things were good.
I talk about our family trips to San Diego and Knott's Berry Farm. I retell the story about Piper whining that she couldn't go on any of the fun rides at her height. She was short at ten but she shot up by fourteen.
Ethan gets here and he helps me tell the one about the time he tried teaching Piper to surf. She was impatient. She kept paddling before he said when. She kept jumping onto the board too early. She kept falling into the waves.
But every time, she laughed.
She made him stay out in the ocean until they were both frozen solid.
Piper gets here and blushes over us telling stories at her expense. But she allows it. She lulls us into that false sense of security, then she launches into every embarrassing story she has about me or Ethan.
A nurse comes in to finish prepping Mom for surgery.
And she insists we leave.
I wait for everyone else to say their goodbyes, then I move to Mom's bed.
There's confidence in her eyes. She knows this is the right decision for her.
And I know it too.
We don't get everything we want.
I don't get a mother who chooses me over work.
But I still love her.
And I still want her to come out of this okay. Even if it only means she has another chance to leave me again.
I lean down and wrap my arms around Mom. "Good luck."
"Thank you, Malcolm."
"I love you."
"I love you too." Her smile is satisfied. Sure.
I've given her a tiny hint of peace. And I fucking hope she doesn't need it.
But if she does, I'm glad I did.
