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This is exactly what I need to do, just veg out and relax.
Halfway through the movie, my phone goes off. It shakes me out of a near-sleep state, and it’s then that I hear Sandra in her room. I’m not sure what she’s doing, but I stretch and let out a small yawn before leaning across the bed to grab my phone.
It's Derek.
“Hi,” I answer the phone as if nothing’s wrong. But my heart hurts. I feel like I’m betraying him. I pick at the crocheted blanket as he talks.
“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice is gravelly; he sounds upset. My stomach twists into knots. Something’s wrong. My mind immediately goes to his mom.
I sit up on the bed, concerned. My heart races in my chest. “Are you okay?”
He sighs before answering, “I'm having a rough day. I could really use a distraction.” I clench my teeth and close my eyes. He always does this. He’s not going to tell me shit. I ball the blanket in my hand and wait a moment.
When I don’t respond, he adds, “I want you to come over.”
I really should tell him no. I should start distancing myself from him. But I can't do that to him now.
He's not okay. He needs me. I throw the blanket off me and climb out of bed.
“I’ll be there soon.”
CHAPTER14
Derek
Istare at the TV screen in the living room. It’s playing something mindless. The soft sounds of the background music fill the room. I’m not paying any attention though. I’m just waiting for Emma.
She should be here soon. I left work early. I can’t get anything done thinking about what my Ma asked Tony about. My eyes focus on the hallway. Ma’s bedroom door is open. She’s reading her books, just like always. When I came home I had intended on asking her why she did it. Why she felt the need to go to him. Why she felt the need to give up.
But when I walked into her room, she had a sweet smile on her face. She was having a good day. She asked me to tell her something new, just like she always does.
I couldn’t ruin the moment. I don’t know how many I have left with her.
I know it’s not okay. The way I handle things isn’t healthy. Emma’s been telling me that so fucking much lately. I just try to forget my problems. At least the personal things. When it comes to work though, it’s a different story. I take everything head on. But when it comes to this, when it comes to my mother?
I’d rather just pretend that everything’s all right. It’s so much easier, so much better than thinking it’s all going to come to an end before I’m ready.
The sound of the front door opening draws my attention. Emma doesn’t even knock anymore. It’s only been a little over three weeks, but there’s a sense of ease between us, an understanding. We both know what we feel for each other. We both know the type of people we are. But just like Ma, I refuse to think of the inevitable. Emma keeps bringing it up, telling me she’s going to be leaving soon.
I don’t want her to go back to school. It’s coming way too soon. Things feel like they're on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall over and shatter. And she’s not gonna be here.
I already know I’m a selfish man. Wanting to keep her here doesn’t make me any different.
The door closes and I finally get up from my seat, hitting the button on the clicker to turn the TV off.
“Derek?” I hear Emma call out from down the hall. Her soft voice echoes off the walls. I’m sure Ma can hear it, too.
Emma’s almost at Ma’s room before I can even respond. It’s become a habit for her, to check in on my mother. And to let her know she’s here. She pauses just before the open door. I quicken my pace to meet her there.
The look on her face tells me she knows something is wrong. It’s the “we gotta talk” look. I hate that expression. She always wants to talk.
I shake my head, not wanting to let her know what’s going on. Part of me wants to open up to her about the tension between me and Tony, but I’m just not that kind of guy. I don’t say a word, my jaw clenched, as I lead her into Ma’s bedroom.
I splay my hand on her back and walk side by side with her over to Ma’s bed. I wasn’t planning on seeing Ma again tonight, but Emma would never let me hear the end of it if she didn’t at least say hello. We’ve already been through this. And I’m a pushover when it comes to her.
I clear my throat and grab my chair that’s still next to Ma’s bed. I didn’t put it back to where it goes in the corner earlier today; I guess some part of me knew I’d be back in here tonight. I pull Emma by the waist, letting her sit on my lap.
“You and those dirty books,” Emma jokes with Ma.
