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“Yes, my love. Thank you.”
Her words gave me cause for pause, that was what she used to call my father. I let it go, appreciating how much in the present she seemed.
“I want to go whale watching,” she whispered, her attention getting lost in the view of the bay. “We haven’t done that in so long.”
A smile stretched my lips with the memory. “I’ll take you the next migration season, I promise.” My gaze shifted to her nurse, who nodded.
“I’m sure Sarah wouldn’t mind us going on a little trip.”
“I was thinking about that on my way here actually.” I confessed to my mom. “About our weekends at the beach.”
Her gray eyes lit up with the mention of the beach. “Oh, wow… I hadn’t thought of that in ages.” She chuckled suddenly, turning to look at me, and our memories connected.
“Don’t turn right. Don’t turn right!” Mom and I yelled at the same time, laughing like crazy people while Grace looked at us, startled. Her reaction only made us laugh harder.
“It was our first time at Gray Whale Cove,” I explained to her nurse while my mom held her stomach, still laughing. “I was so small, but I still remember the man screaming while we went down the wooden stairs to the beach.”
I grinned, seeing my mom failing to contain her mirth. “So many wrinkles,” she croaked, and laughed even harder, but Grace’s confusion only grew.
“Haven’t you ever been there?” I questioned, and saw her shake her head at me, perplexed. “The right side of the cove is a ‘clothing optional’ beach, and that day there was a seniors nudist tour.”
“Oh my God!” Grace gasped, covering her wide mouth. “You didn’t turn right, did you??”
“So many wrinkles!!” Mom screeched in answer, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
Laughter burst from Grace too, already knowing an answer.
“I think I was traumatized for like a month after that,” I confessed, holding my stomach while my shoulders shook.
“That must have been a sight,” Grace snickered, and I nodded.
“You have no idea.” Our joyfulness mixed in the breeze, and I was thankful for such a priceless moment. It had been a long time since I’d been able to spend time with Mom like this, to just enjoy.
“Our poor boy couldn’t sleep for a whole week,” Mom chuckled. “What was that thing hanging from the man’s body?” She imitated my voice. “It was his wee-wee, honey,” she answered as though it was my dad. “But why was it so ugly?!”
Seeing funny tears slide over her cheeks, I snorted. “I did not sound like that!”
Wiping off the wetness from her face, Mom looked at me, taking a claiming breath. “Not you, my love. Our son, Braxton.”
With her words, a wave of dread crashed against my soul, tightening my chest. Just like that, the smile on my face died. The happiness I’d shared with her just a second ago, disappearing.
Her mind had switched realities.
“It’s me, Mom…” I whispered, retaking her hand in mine and kissing it, hoping I could bring her back.
“Stop.” She playfully slapped my hand. “You are so silly, Khayden. Brax is only five years old.”
My face reflected in her gray eyes and the tear in my heart spread a little. It didn’t help that I was the spitting image of my father, with chestnut brown hair, and greenish-golden eyes. The sight of me fed her delusions. Squeezing her hand, I kissed it again, closing my eyes as I tried to desperately hold on to the moment we had shared a few seconds ago.
I wanted more than anything to convince her that it was me, her son, but I didn’t want to trigger her. Grace and I exchanged a glance, sadness invading her expression. Gently rubbing her shoulder, she called Mom’s attention to her.
“Keira, sweetie. That is Brax, your son; he’s nineteen years old already. And I’m Grace, your friend, remember? He came to visit you today, and we did our hair, and you got dressed in a pretty red dress for him.”
Mom’s smile faltered as confusion began to cloud her expression, and she blinked, trying to grasp what her nurse was saying. When her gaze returned to me, she reached for my cheek, her eyes exploring my features.
“Khayden?” she whispered. “Khayden…” Her hand plunged through my hair like she’d always done to my dad, and she caressed it. Yet, with the increasing pain in my eyes, the joyful spark hers held disappeared. “Braxton? Where’s Khayden?” Her head slowly turned to Grace, anxiety taking a hold of her. “Where is my husband?”
“Mom…” I whispered, throat tightening. I didn’t want to answer her question.
