AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why are you leaving so soon Michael?”
He sat back down and took a deep breath, eyeing the pile of beer bottles in the corner near her chair. “Because I still can’t get over what happened. I still can’t get over how you let all that shit happen to me. You didn’t do a thing to stop it.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. If I could go back and change things, I would.”
“Why didn’t you help me? I was your son. I was a child. The sheets that night… they were so bloody. You had to have known it was happening. I was crying. I was hurt. I needed to go to the hospital.” It was all coming out. It was not his intention to have that conversation. It was supposed to be about Mitch. But it just happened.
“I was messed up. You know that. I was not okay. It was a mistake. I know it messed you up. You’re still messed up. Have you relapsed yet?”
“No.” He shook his head and felt the tears fall down his cheeks. “I’m doing well. I’m in love. I found a damn good woman. And Ma, I’m a father. I got custody of Jace. He’s living with me. I’ve got so much good going on. I’m not gonna fuck it up.” He’d leave out the details about almost relapsing in Mitch’s house. It was in the past and it didn’t happen. There was no sense bringing it up.
“Good. You were always so stubborn. I’m glad you’re using it for good now. You always had so much potential. My handsome son. The life you were living didn’t suit you. And I know it’s all because I didn’t do anything about all that. No one should ever have to go through that.”
“Do you blame me for Mitch?” Straight and to the point. He needed to know.
“Why would you say that?”
“He always followed me. Did everything I did. Looked up to me. I led him right to the drugs and criminal stuff. He just never could find his way back out. And it cost him his life.”
“Mitch was a grown man. He was a follower, yes. But you didn’t make him do anything. He made those choices. I don’t blame you for a thing, Michael. If I was to blame someone, it’d be me.” She patted her chest with her hand. “I didn’t do right by either of you. I don’t blame you for anything, Michael. I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for all the hell you’ve been through. I’m truly sorry.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear those words, Ma. Thank you.” More tears fell down his face and he didn’t fight to stop them. “I’m glad I came by today. I’m so sorry about Mitch. I’m sorry I can’t give him a proper funeral.”
“Cremation and a memorial are just fine, Michael. It’s okay.”
“I miss him so much. I find myself picking up the phone to call him.” He recalled Mitch’s last few weeks before his passing. He was so angry with Michael. So jealous that he had found sobriety and a good woman. Michael wished he had tried harder to help him, but the threats of turning him in and the vindictiveness chased him off.
“I’ll miss him, too. He was such a darling child. Always eager to please. I always kinda figured one of you would die that way. I honestly thought it’d be you. And now look at you. A father. A woman. You’re doing it, Michael. You’re succeeding. And I can’t take any credit for that. You’re doing it all on your own.”
Michael scrolled to a picture on his phone of him, Haize, and Jace, smiling at the park with the river in the background. He handed the phone to his mom. “That’s us. Jace and Haize. The loves of my life. Your grandson.”
She stared at the picture as a single tear fell down her cheek. “I’m so glad Jace looks like you and not Marilyn.”
“Me, too.”
“That Haize is a pretty one.”
“I’m gonna marry her, Ma. One day, I’m gonna give her everything she ever wanted.”
“Maybe one day I can meet her and my grandson. Would you be okay with that?”
Michael wasn’t at that point yet. He still held resentment he was working on with his counselor. “Maybe one day, Ma. I just gotta work through a few things, first. Just give me a little time.”
“Take all the time you need, Son. I don’t blame you. I love you. And I’m so proud of who you’re becoming.”
Though he still held resentment toward his mother, the words meant a lot. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had so much to work on but had so much he had accomplished. Getting past Mitch’s death would be the hardest, and knowing his mother didn’t blame him helped tremendously.
Haize sat toward the front of the church, desperately attempting to calm her nerves. Michael was standing at the podium, a place he had refused to be since she had met him. Now, standing there eight months later, he looked determined – a man on a mission, vowing to never relapse and make it through his parole without being sent back. Four more months – it’s all he had to be completely free. After completing eight months, four didn’t seem so bad… only now that it was so close, it felt so far away.
She was bursting with pride as he smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt. He was nervous, there was no hiding it, but he was there, and he was ready, and Haize flashed him a smile in hopes of sending him some encouragement. Out of his comfort zone, in front of a people from a town that had never been good to him. People who viewed him as one of those Brennan boys who would never amount to anything. And he was proving them wrong with every day that passed by.
Leaning toward the microphone, Michael took a deep breath and looked out over the crowd. Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. He looked so handsome – his dark hair spikey, his five o’clock shadow trimmed up, his tan complexion looking great under the lights. Even from a distance, Haize could see the green in his eyes, so intoxicating, manly, and bold as he looked at her one last time before finally speaking.
“I’ve been coming to these meetings for about eight months now. Some of you are probably wondering why it’s taken me so long to get up here and tell my story. Truth is, I’m not really sure.” He shrugged his shoulders and smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt again. “I’m going to be completely honest, as we’ve all been taught. I guess I figured all of you already knew my story.”
Haize straightened her posture. While she had an idea of what he was going to talk about, this was all new to her as well. Whatever he had to say would be good. It was straight from his heart. And the man had a great and caring heart.
“You all knew me as a Brennan boy. Michael and Mitch, running around on the streets while their mama did what she did. Michael and Mitch, trouble following right behind them. Michael the drug addict. He’ll never amount to a thing. He’ll end up in prison. And sure enough, I did.”
