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He turned off the blender and dropped into a chair at the table. “I do. My mother made her choice a long time ago. She chose her stuff.”
“Do you have any good memories of her?”
“I used to. Until I learned the reason she drove through countless neighborhoods with me had nothing to do with talkingor spending time with me. She needed another person to do the heavy lifting. To pick up trash on the curb to take home. Those are my fondest memories. Being used.”
“I know she hurt you, but she’s getting help. She’s trying. The truth is, they only allowed her to take a few personal items with her. Her apartment is completely different than the old place.”
“If it’s true that she’s gotten rid of the rest of the junk, I’m happy for her. But I’m not a consolation prize. The only interest she has in me is as another thing that reminds her of Dad. Having me in her life won’t do either of us any good.”
“Your mother needs you in her life.”
“I needed her in my life. A long time ago.” The outburst hung in the air, unanswered. Jax released a breath and calmed himself. “Sorry. If she got better after I left, I’m the last person she needs. Being around me would drive her right back into her old ways.”
“You think what happened was your fault?”
“It’s pretty obvious. I resemble him. I’ll forever be the worst reminder of my dad. She intended to replace me with less painful ones. Then, in the end, she got rid of me.”
His uncle eased into a chair at the table next to him. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “Son, sometimes we do things for the best reason possible, yet still cause pain.”
“Meaning?”
His uncle sighed. He opened his hands and stared at them on the table for several seconds. “When you came to stay with me, you kept asking for information regarding your mom. You were consumed with worry, so I told you she’d improved. The truth is, she didn’t. She got much worse.”
“Wait, what?”
“They forcibly removed her and placed her in a treatment facility when the place was condemned. She only recently got better. I’m sorry I lied to you, Jax. I thought you wantedreassurance she’d be safe and she’d get the help she needed. I didn’t know you interpreted it that way. If I’d been more honest with you, I would have saved you some of the pain you’ve carried all these years.” Uncle Sam placed a hand over Jax’s hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry, son.”
The revelation landed a kick to his chest. Yet he smiled at his uncle. “You couldn’t have known what I thought. I didn’t say anything. I think I was too afraid to ask. Too afraid it was true.”
“There’s another thing you should know. Your mom has had this sickness a long time. You had nothing to do with it. She used to collect lollipop wrappers when she was a kid. Not ones with a design. Plain, transparent lollipop wrappers.”
“She never stopped. I still remember the sound and sensation of those scratchy, crinkling wrappers under my blanket and surrounding me every time I moved in my makeshift bed at night.”
“Our parents found it cute at first. That marked the beginning of what I can only call a downward spiral. Your dad ignored it, mostly, but after his death—”
“It consumed her.”
“Yeah. No adult lived there to hold her accountable.” Uncle Sam eyed him, chewing on his lip. “You know you’re not like her, Jax, right?”
“I’m her son.” The words tumbled out of his mouth like spoiled food.
“Yeah, and I’m her brother. You’re also your father’s son. Besides that, you’re a unique person with free will, not a carbon copy destined to be the same as your parents. You didn’t collect anything like she did as a kid. You didn’t display any of the signs your mother did from an early age. So, stop being afraid. Stop avoiding…people…because of the past.”
“You’re referring to Seyla.”
“I’m referring to Seyla. Have you seen her apartment?”
“It’s clean and organized.”
“Any stacks of magazines or newspapers?”
“No.”
“Are the counters clear?”
“Yeah.”
“Then stop worrying, Jax. Stop seeing a Trojan horse in the gift God has given you.”
