Years ago
“I love it,” I whisper to Eden over the phone. “I’ll be there next week to see it physically and sign the lease.” My best friend squeals into the phone. “And I’ll drive you home for summer break.”
We talk for a few more minutes before my mom calls me, and I hang up. I assist her out of the shower and, after helping her dress, set the table for dinner. Devin, now a junior in high school, comes in hours after school lets out. Mom lights up when she sees him.
“Go wash up for dinner. Your father will be home soon.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re seated at the table, enjoying the baked chicken I helped Mom cook.
“It’s small, but there are two bedrooms with plenty of space for Selene when she visits.” I practically rub my hands together at the thought of leaving Shadow Cove and following my dreams. “I’m pretty sure it was the wedding dress that got me in. I think that’s what I want to focus on. Wedding dresses, and maybe later on, bridesmaids’ and mother of the brides’ gowns. Just wedding stuff.” I sigh and smile at the same time. “I love love.”
Devin rolls his eyes as he scrolls through his phone, but my parents look at each other. They don’t speak. They’ve known I wanted to go to design school since I was ten. They’ve encouraged me. When my grandmother’s arthritis got too bad, my dad was the one who asked her to give me her sewing machine. Not only was she happy to do it, but she also taught me everything she knew.Considering she had no formal training, she taught me a great deal.
“I’m proud of you, baby,” my mom finally says. I see tears brimming in her eyes. Certain they are tears of joy, I put my hand on hers.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“But, Cori, there’s no money for us to help you.” Dad looks away as if he’s shamed by that admission, but I don’t blame him for it. The money my parents had put aside went to my mom’s bills, which I understand.
“Don’t worry about that.” I wave my hand as if that would make my Dad’s anxiety disappear. “I have financial aid and enough loans to cover it.” The small college fund my parents had for me wasn’t much to begin with, which is why, after high school, I decided to work for two years to save my own money for school.
“And you know our insurance won’t pay for your mother to have a medical aid come to the house. She’s still in therapy and needs help.” My heart drops at the sound of that.
“Devin will be here for another year.” My brother’s head finally snaps up at the sound of his name. He looks like a deer in headlights as he looks from my father to my mother.
“What?” he asks.
“You can’t expect your brother to help your mother in and out of the shower. He can’t help her get dressed, Cori,” Dad says.
“Why not?” I ask. “If you were the one in mom’s shoes, you’d expect me to help you with those things, wouldn’t you? And what about male nurses? They do that all the time. What’s the big deal?”
“Of course, I would not expect my daughter to help me out of the shower,” Dad says, but that’s a lie. After the accident, he had a broken wrist, and I was the one who drove him everywhere and helped him with whatever he needed. “And your brother is not responsible.”
Dadlovingly rubs the back of Devin’s head. Devin pretends to be offended, but he only chuckles.
“He would be if you gave him some responsibility,” I counter.
“I just feel more comfortable with you, baby,” Mom says.
“Why? Devin is just as much your kid as I am.” I blow my breath upward, but don’t say any more. I have about three months before I can leave and get away. I’ll have my car, so I’ll visit often, but the past few years have been daunting.
Balancing work, taking care of Mom, and managing the house has felt like a third job.
“Your mother’s insurance has approved her for another surgery,” Dad announces. The table goes quiet. Tears spill from mom’s eyes. “This can help with the nerve damage and possibly get her out of that chair.”
“Mom, that’s amazing.” Excited by the news, I hop out of my chair, hug her from behind, and rain kisses on her cheek.
“It’s with a specialist,” Dad says. “She has to have some workup before the surgery, but we’re going to need you, Cori.” Dad snatches my hand. “Your mother will need you. All we’re asking is that you defer for one more year. That’s it, honey.”
Now
I shake my head and clear it of those thoughts. That was a lifetime ago. In the end, the surgery was not successful. In fact, it made things worse. I had to quit one of my jobs to spend more time at home, and the plan to defer for a year turned into an indefinite amount of time.
“Guess what?” I say as a way of changing the subject. “I put my favorite wedding dress on sale.”
“You mean the Queen Corine?” That’s what Selene calls the wedding dress that I model on my site.
“Yeah. Guess how much?” When they both look at me and wait, I say, “Fifteen thousand dollars.” I burst into laughter. “No one will ever buy it.”
