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“Welcome back yourself, Daire.” She pulls me into another hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been right here.”
“No. No, you haven’t,” she sniffles and rubs my back.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I tell her. “For everything I did. I’m really sorry.”
I’ve been wanting to say those words but didn’t feel right not saying them face-to face. In this case, face to shoulder.
“You, my sweet boy, are more than forgiven.” She hugs me even tighter. I love a good “momma” squeeze. “Goodness, this feels good. Now, you have to catch me up on everything that has been going on. I’ve spoken to Kennedy, Graham, Hope, and even Patrick on occasion but I want to talk to you. After. I have gifts and items to add to your walls and shelves. That library of yours has been screaming for some much-needed attention for too long.”
We both laugh as I nod my agreement. For the next hour or so, we go through her bags, boxes, and other packages that she had delivered. Another thing I didn’t know was happening this entire time. She, Kennedy, and Patrick have been coordinating things.
As she unpacks things, instructing me where she thinks should go, we talk about everything. We talk until the breakfast she requested is complete. We eat and talk some more. After breakfast, she kisses my cheek then tells me she’ll see me later.
One would think, after spending all that time talking to my mother, I would be all talked out.
I’m not.
“Hello Mr. Shaw. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” the good doctor says as her usual greeting.
I smile as I take my regular seat. This time is different. I feel it.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Embers. The pleasure is all mine.”
The doctor squints her eyes, takes her glasses off, and stares at me for a moment.
“Mr. Shaw, for about a month now, roughly a month and a half, you've come into my office, just about every single day that Hope House is open. Every day, we do this little dance with words. You say something then I say something or vice versa. During your weekly sessions with Dr. Price, I'm told you are quite verbal. You share a lot about your past, but he tells me it seems like you're holding something back. Do you feel like you're getting something out of therapy?”
I sit back in my seat and take in the room for a minute or so before I speak.
“Did you know my mother used to bake?”
Dr. Embers smiles before flipping a sheet on her notepad and beginning to write. I smile to myself at the familiar action.
“No, you've never mentioned that before.”
“Right. She used to bake all the time. When we were younger, she would tell us she baked when she was sad. The older we got, the more she baked. One year, when I was about twelve or thirteen, she stopped baking. It would be years before she even baked a pie again. You know why she baked so much?”
“She was sad?”
“No. She baked to keep herself busy. She baked to keep herself alive. Her children needed her. She didn't want to leave them. Her way of staying sane what's the focus on making something sweet. My mother said she was depressed. Frustrated with her life but didn't know how to ask for help. It wasn't until she got the help, that she found true happiness. Her life was truly saved and so was her marriage.”
I hear Dr. Ember’s pen scratching across the notepad.
“Why did you share that with me?”
“Five years ago, I nearly lost everything. I was doing all types of crazy things. My heart was broken when I was nineteen years old. I didn't handle the ending of that relationship well. As a matter of fact, I spent the better part of a year testing my limits and seeing how far I could go with things.” I pause to take a breath. “When I was younger, someone dared me to do something like jump across a Creek and I did. I enjoyed the rush I got from it and being able to declare myself victorious. Every time someone would ask me to do something that might be deemed a little crazy or dangerous, if they attached the word ‘dare’ to it I would immediately do it. I had to do it. I needed to be successful. I took the middle name that was given to me, handed down to me by my parents, as a way of living my life.”
“Did that make you happy?”
“I don't think so. It was more about the rush than anything else. Anyway. I found other ways to get a similar rush. I was racing in the big time. I finally made it. That did make me happy despite not having the person who I thought wanted to share that life with me. I started betting on horses. It was another race. The thrill of watching took away some of the pain I'd been living with since I left Hampton. I would go if I had money to bet and even when I didn't.”
Again, I hear the scratching of the pen against the paper. I don’t know why that sound is so calming.
“You said you almost lost everything. What happened that kept you from losing it?”
“My mother and my two siblings happened. I don't know how my mother did it. I don't know exactly what she said to the bank representatives, but she froze my accounts. They sat me down and staged a mini-intervention. They basically told me I needed to get my life together and find another way to deal. So, I did. I focused on doing things for my niece and nephew. When I wasn't busy doing that, then I was working on my brand and trying to maintain a reputation that my future children that be proud of.”
