“Rehab…”
“Counseling.”
“…alcoholic mother…”
“Dad! You can’t let them take me,” I yelped. “I’m perfectly fine! I just got into a little spat with Jason.”
Dad turned and locked eyes with mine, but somehow I knew none of my protests would be heard. The doors to the ambulance soon closed in on me and somehow I knew it’d be the last time I’d see him for a very long time.
Chapter 13
It’s been four years, five months, and two days since I had last spoken to Rocky. The radio silence never got easier, but I knew it was necessary. After my stint in therapy—not to mention my near-death experience—I saw that more clearly than I ever had before. I couldn’t go back to past triggers. Not after the progress I’d made so far.
I flipped a burger patty in the air and reveled in the sizzling sound it made on the industrial sized grill. Tyler’s Tavern was in its infancy, but has been regarded as one of the most popular restaurants in Charleston. Looking back, I would never have imagined myself becoming a chef, let alone a business owner, but I guess life is a curious thing.
The sound of thudding footsteps came up beside me, followed by a blast of musk. Even before the heavy cologne hit my nostrils I knew it had to be my dad. Our relationship has had its share of bad times and well, really bad times, but somehow we made it past the turbulence and came out on top. It’s funny what family therapy, business school, and cooking lessons could do to a father/son relationship.
“What’s up, Pops?” I asked, keeping my attention on the scalding oil in front of me.
Dad cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. “Um, Sport?”
My heart constricted. Dad never called me ‘sport’ unless something important was going on, especially since I was the least athletic person imaginable. I stepped away from the grill, worried that whatever revelation was about to be bestowed on me would result in burned fingers. “Anything wrong?”
“I…uh…” Dad scratched at his forehead, which was crinkled deeply.
I sighed. “Just spill it. Rip it off like a Band-Aid and get it over with.”
He nodded and took a deep breath. “I spoke to your mother today.”
“Okay, maybe doing it quickly was a bad idea,” I joked, though judging by the seriousness on his face there was no humor in what he was about to tell me. I pulled at my neck anxiously and gulped. “What’s going on with her?”
“She’s…really sick, son.”
“Sick? What do you mean?” Images of hospital beds and tubes flashed through my head. I shook them off and frowned. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Let’s just say those cigarettes finally took a toll on her.” Dad’s face was devoid of any emotion, but in his eyes I detected a sliver of guilt.
I glanced back down at my burning burger and flipped it over. The sizzling pops did nothing to soothe my rising guilt. Regardless of what kind of a mother she was, I should have known all this. I should have attempted to reach out to her sooner. Feeling a need for comic relief, I snorted. “Funny, I’d always thought it’d be her liver that gave out.”
“Jesse,” Dad snapped. “This is not the time for jokes.”
“I know. I’m sorry…it’s just…” I couldn’t even finish my thoughts. Always having been one to run from emotions, I was literally at a loss for words.
Dad shifted his weight and eyed me hesitantly.
“What is it?” I asked glumly.
“Um, she wants to see you. You know, before…”
Before.
How could that one word carry such a heavy load?
I shook my head. “I can’t go back.”
“Jesse—”
“We both know this, Dad.” I shut my eyes and flung the spatula toward the sink. It landed with a clatter, startling some of my kitchen staff. “It’s okay everyone, just going through a life crisis right now.”
“Jesse,” Dad groaned. “Be adult about this.”
“Be adult about it?” I gaped. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past few years? Stagnating? I’ve pushed aside everything that was ever familiar to me to grow up. What else do I have to do?”
Before my dad could respond, I pushed past him and walked toward my little cube of an office. It was barely the size of the janitorial closet, but it was my own space and had quickly become my sanctuary. I sat down and snuck a peek at the infamous selfie of homecoming night. Despite cutting myself off from Rocky, I had to have one last souvenir of her. The corners were a bit torn at the edges and aged yellow from the years in a hot kitchen. Staring at the two kids in the photograph was almost surreal. That boy who stared back did not feel like me anymore, and the girl beside him…well, she’d always remain a farfetched dream.
Dad stalked up beside me, grabbing onto the back of my chair to wheel me around. “Jesse, stop ignoring this.”
“I’m not ignoring anything.”
Dad didn’t look pleased. “I think you should go. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life regretting—”
“Regretting what? Regretting that I didn’t go back to see a mother who verbally and mentally abused me for years? Regretting that I don’t go back to a town that even you said had nothing left for me?” My eyes skirted the sketch once more. “Believe me, I already have many things to regret. What’s one more to the list?”
Dad winced. “Don’t be like this, Jesse. I know you’re better than this. You’re a good person, and I’m sure somewhere deep inside of you, there’s a love for your mother, even if you want to deny it. She wants to see you again. Why can’t you just give her that?”
I pressed my lips together and began drumming my fingers against my desk.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally muttered.
“Jesse.”
“I’ll think about it,” I replied, brushing him off.
Chapter 14
“Stupid song.”
I pressed another button on my dash.
“Even dumber song.”
I tried one more time.
“Dumbest crap ever! Ugh.”
I resigned to turning off the radio and drumming my fingers against the steering wheel instead. Even the made-up melodies in my head were better than the Top 40 crap circulating the airwaves. I’d just have to sit in silence to save my sanity.
Two hours. One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds before I found myself back in Bethel Falls. Praying I’d somehow get stuck in traffic, I slowed down my pace and set my car to cruise control. It’s funny to think how only a few years ago I was basically dragged out of town, kicking and screaming all the while. Now here I was, stalling so I wouldn’t need to go back.
Well, I didn’t hit traffic. In fact, it was as if the traffic gods looked down and pointed menacing fingers on me, laughing me all the way back home. I actually arrived at my mom’s house—my old house—in record time. I pulled to a stop and sat still, staring at the old house dumbfounded. I didn’t know what I expected, but it looked…the same.
“Figures she wouldn’t have done anything different to the crapshoot,” I murmured.
BAM.
The front door burst open, startling me. From behind the snow covered bushes, I could make out a small, frail woman standing at the door. There was an odd lump beside her that stood as tall as her waist. From where I sat I couldn’t quite make it out, and I couldn’t help but fear that she had gone and made another kid while I was gone.
Ridiculous…I think.
“Shit,” I whispered, staring at this stranger, whose eyes bore into mine even from twenty feet away. I wanted to run so badly, but I knew I couldn’t. Well, here you are, Jesse. You can’t sit out here forever. Time to get moving.