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A cough spluttered from my chest, surprised by her words. “Shit. Are you always this honest? Calling people out on their behavior?”
“Nope. Never. Well, not since Mum died. I lost my voice when I lost her, and when I was assaulted, it seemed to reinforce my need to be unheard and invisible. But I realized that being silent let that man do what he did. I should have screamed, shouted, and demanded that people admit they could see what was happening. Being around you all has helped me find my voice. You… all of you, make me feel safe and protected. I don’t think I can ever express what a difference that’s made. It’s let me find my confidence.”
My chest filled with a sense of pride that we’d been able to give her that. “I’m so glad to hear that, Em. But does that also mean I’m to blame when you call me out for being a dick?”
“Yeap, but you’re also to blame when I rub your feet and promise to hold your hand until you feel safe and sober. My ability to help you comes from your ability to help me. You’re not a project or someone I need to fix, Tan. You’re just you and I’m just me, and right now, you need me and I want to be here. And I know you’d be there for me if I needed you, no questions. Am I right?”
I needed to touch her, to make sure she was real and not some far-fetched dream that my fucked mind had created to help me survive my sobriety. Because, at times, Emmy felt too good to be true. I stretched my hand out tentatively, cupping her cheek, rubbing my thumb over her bottom lip. “So right, angel.”
Placing her hand over mine, she lifted them from her cheek and set them on the bed between us. I waited for her to let go, but she didn’t. Instead, she squeezed my hand tight. “Okay, let’s get some sleep, rock star, but if you’re struggling in the night, I need you to promise me you won’t run. You’ll wake me up. No matter what.”
Turning my palm upwards I linked my fingers with hers, securing myself to her. “I promise, Em. Thank you for this. For coming back for me. For staying. For trusting me.”
“Enough words, Tanner. Sleep.”
“A woman like me shouldn’t be on my own. I need a man. You. You make it impossible. They hate you, so they leave me. You’re weird. They all say it. Too chatty, too emotional. I mean, you’re 12 and you still want to climb into bed with me when you have a bad dream. It’s not normal, Tanner. I need some space. Some time away from being a parent. You’ll be fine. You can take care of yourself. There is food in the fridge. You can get yourself to school. But you can’t tell anyone. They won’t understand. They will take you. You’ll lose me forever if you tell anyone. Promise, Tanner. Promise this will be our secret, baby boy. Mamma just needs a little holiday. I’ll be back before you know it.”
My throat burned, and tears spilled from my eyes. “Leave? I don’t understand. Leave me on my own? Here?”
“For fuck’s sake, Tanner. I’ve given you my whole life. I deserve this. I won’t feel bad for needing more than you. You’ll still be here when I get back. Needing me to do shit for you. Never appreciating me.”
“Please, please don’t go. I’ll do more. I’ll help more.”
“I will do what the fuck I want, Tanner. Do you hear me? I’m the parent here and I get to decide what’s good for you. Grow up. Look after yourself. Stop being a weak, needy fucker.”
She shoved me in the chest, sending my slight frame crashing to the floor. I looked up at her with disbelief as she stared back at me, her disgust with me clear to see. She leaned over me, spitting onto the dirty gray carpet near my head. “In life, Tanner, you get what you deserve. You’ll do well to remember that, boy.”
I bolted upright, forcing the air into my lungs as a gasp escaped. I hated thinking about her, so dreaming about her and my childhood was the worse kind of hell.
A hand pressed into my lower back, and her voice, soft and low, murmured things to me I couldn’t make out, but that soothed me, anyway. As my dream faded, her voice fell into focus.
“Hey, Tan. You okay? I need you to say something, so I know you’re alright.”
“I’m okay,” my voice croaked out, but it didn’t sound like mine. I sounded like a stranger. A scared, emotionally damaged stranger.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay. Can I get you something?”
“Cat piss tea and a foot rub would go down really well about now.”
“That I can do.”
She climbed out of bed, walking over to the kettle in the suite’s mini kitchen, flicking it on to boil. She’d taken off the hoodie she went to bed in, so she was only wearing my t-shirt over her sleep shorts, but it was so big, it looked like a dress. She noticed me looking.
“It’s like sleeping next to a fire. You’re so hot. I had to take the hoodie off before I melted.”
She pulled two t-bags out of a box on the side, dropping them into the cups she’d laid out, pouring water over them before carrying them back to the bed.
“Relaxing cat piss, sir.” I took the cup from her and blew on the hot water. “Now, where are those feet? Oh, I have something to make it even better. Give me a second.”
Moments later, she was back in bed, bottle in hand. I raised my eyebrow at her.
“Oil,” she replied to my silent question. “Bath oil. I noticed it earlier when I was getting changed. It will work on your feet as well.” I watched as she poured some into her hands and began to massage it into my feet. I groaned loudly, having to set my hot tea on the end table next to me, as she rubbed the tension of my nightmare from my body.
“Close your eyes, Tan. Just relax. I’ve got you.”
