AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The Trish-sized dent in the mattress speaks to a lot more than “a few minutes.” She should be beside herself worried about her daughter. Part of her is, I think. But the rest of her is mired beneath a black ocean of depression so deep that she can no longer sense which way is up.
I look down at Trish, but it’s not her I see. For a flash, I see a dark-haired, blue-eyed woman tangled in the dingy blankets in front of me.
I see her cracked smile as I walk through the door.
I hear my name, rasped through dry lips.
“My Timmy,”Mom always said.
Then I look again and she’s gone. Trish is back. Her blonde hair is limp and greasy on her scalp and tears stream down her cheeks.
“Stop crying,” I bark again. “It won’t help.”
She sniffles. Her chin curls and dimples as she fights back more useless wails. “Are you going to take them?”
“Who?”
“The kids!” she says. “My babies. They’re too little to be away from me. You can’t take a newborn from her mother.”
“Olivia is without her mother right now. No one knows where she is.” She starts to cry again, but I clap my hands in front of her in one loud crack. “Stop crying.”
“You don’t understand,” she sobs. “You don’t have children.”
“I do, actually. A baby boy.”
She looks over at me, and the misery on her face lifts. She smiles. “Congratulations. Children are a gift from God.”
Finally, I see it. There’s nothing Grant can do to make his mother better. He can’t coax the mental illness out of her with gentle nudges or harsh rebukes. He can’t make the house run smoothly enough that Trish will get up and rejoin their family.
Grant can’t fix his mother, in the same way I couldn’t fix mine.
As much as we both may wish that wasn’t true, it is.
Which means Piper is right.
“Children are a gift,” I repeat back to her. “They’re a responsibility, too. A huge responsibility. You have to be able to devote your entire self to taking care of them and raising them. It’s exhausting work.”
Trish rearranges the blankets around her. In the yellow light coming from the lamp behind her, I see a cloud of dust rise from the blankets. “My kids are good kids. They don’t give me any trouble.”
“Except Olivia,” I say.
Trish frowns, and I watch as reality washes over her again. There’s a pattern here. She breaks through the fog of confusion for a handful of seconds at a time before descending back into its murky hold.
I have to catch her in one of those clear-headed windows.
My phone buzzes. I pull it out. It’s a text from Rooney.Found the girl. Bringing her to you now.
I breathe a sigh of relief. There’s one crisis averted.
I pocket the phone and kneel down next to Trish’s bed. I reach across the ripped patchwork quilt for her hand. She seems confused by the gesture, but she accepts it.
“Your son loves you, Trish. From where I’m standing, you don’t deserve it. But there’s no denying that he does. That’s why he lies to stay here.”
Her lower lip juts out in the beginning of a cry, but I keep talking before the waterworks can begin.
“Grant works hard to make you proud and take care of his siblings. He does it all because he wants to protect them and you. But maybe it’s your turn to protect him.”
She swipes at her eyes. “What does that mean?”
