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Hear his tsk tsking as I brush the knots out of my hair.
See his shadow over my shoulder when I try to open a textbook.
A textbook he bought me.
To the class he paid the tuition for, refusing for me to carry debt in my name any longer.
I cried so hard about those facts yesterday that I couldn’t even get out of the shower to go to said class.
I’m so fucking stupid.
So.
So.
Stupid.
I let Tomas in…
I knew better and still let myself be used in the worst ways by my family.
“No tea,” Mom speaks up, recollecting my stare from where it had fallen to the floor, “but I would love some fresh air out on the front porch.” Her head tilts in a loving way. “And some company.”
Unable to let words free themselves, I simply slip on a phony, mother-approved grin and stroll toward the walk-in closet of the converted guestroom to remove the wheelchair. After toeing the levers, I guide it around the side of Mom’s twin-sized bed that she’s currently cursing for not being the queen one she hopes to get back into with Dad someday.
I wait until she’s finished bitching to insist on helping her into the seat only to be met by a new annoyed scoff. “I have physical therapy these days, Zel.”
“I know.”
“I can get myself into the chair alone.”
Her resistance has my shoulders sagging. “Mom, I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“And I’m just trying to remind you – like I have your father – that I’m a bit more useful now.”
“Don’t say useful,” I softly chide.
“I can do so much more than I thought I ever would again. All the therapy and medications are working. You two have to let me do some things on my own again.”
Pride over her regained independence is immediately pummeled by panic.
Oh god…what if…what if the nurses stop coming?
Or the training ceases?
Or the medication suddenly isn’t covered?
What if all of Mom’s progress is shot to shit because I made a stupid mistake?
Because her son made a stupid fucking mistake?!
“Princess,” she cautiously calls out at the same time she works her way into her chair, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” I poorly brush off, “just a little…a little exhausted is all.” Sniffles are followed by me redirecting my gaze over to the narrowed area out of the room. “Should we take a blanket?”
“It’s summer in Florida, Zel,” her tone is full of levity. “Unless we’re taking it to dab away sweat, I think we’ll be fine.”
The snarky response successfully receives a genuine smile, yet catching the cheerful yellow corner of the knit throw blanket dangling off the side of her bed eradicates it.
