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“Bet you didn’t expect this tonight?”
The smile he offers in return is too sad.
Choosing to ignore the ache in my chest for another time, I pull off my boots and socks and step inside the shower.
I don’t look at him, but I know he thinks I’m crazy—standing there, fully clothed and soaking wet, with my alcoholic mother in his arms.
I reach out. “You can put her down. I’ve got her.”
He hesitates, so I nod, eager to get this over with.
A small part of me understands why my mother won’t look at me. I can’t look at Jake for the same reason. I’m afraid of what I’ll see.
He places her in my arms, steadying me when I stumble against the wall with my hands under her arms to support her weight.
It’s been a while since I’ve needed to do this.
“I’ll be down soon.”
“Claire,” he pleads.
“Please, Jake. She’ll be embarrassed if she wakes and sees you here.”
I’m sliding down the shower wall when he leaves and closes the door.
My mother sputters when the cold water rushes over her face.
It may be uncomfortable, but she’s alive.
We both are.
***
My mother is mumbling on the edge of the bed once I finish drying her hair.
I change into the dry clothes Amy brought.
I look like a teenage pop star.
Bubble-gum pink t-shirt and flared jeans.
Did she also go back in time?
She did this on purpose.
Jake appears at the door like he teleported. I still don’t understand how he moves around so quietly. Someone so huge should make noise.
In the craziness of what is tonight, he manages to smirk at me. I know he’s trying hard not to laugh.
“I know, okay? I look ridiculous. She’s not steady enough to walk. Can you carry her?”
“Of course,” he says, like it’s not the slightest inconvenience. I pulled him away for the night and not once has he made me feel guilty. “Amy will stay with her tonight. It’s easier if she sleeps downstairs.”
“You can stay. I can come back for you in the morning.”
“Thanks, but it’s best if I don’t. Hopefully, she won’t remember I was here.”
His eyes pull together, feeling my pain for me.
