Dating For Decades (25 page)

She doesn’t offer any type of response. Not in the form of a head nod, shake, blink, or even the raise of a finger. This may all fall on deaf ears, and maybe that doesn’t make it relevant. I may say all of this and it won’t mean a thing because if she can’t hear a thing I say, maybe it’s like it didn’t even happen. But, it doesn’t matter. I have to say it. For me. For the little girl in me.

“I’ll be forty in a couple of months. Can you believe it? I made it, Mom. After everything, I made it.” I picture myself on the living room floor, keeping warm with a waffle blanket and space heater. I’m curled up into a ball, calling out for her, crying, and she isn’t there. I wonder if it’s like this for all ten-year-olds. I wouldn’t want this for my kids. And in that moment, I vowed I would never have any.

“I’ll be forty years old and be childless. Much how you are today.” Even though I’m still her daughter, I certainly don’t see myself that way. “I don’t understand why you chose the drugs over me. How did they get a hold of you? What was so great about them? What could they offer you as a high that I couldn’t as your daughter? I watched my entire childhood pass me by. My friends were going to dances and Girl Scout meetings and doing things with their moms, and I was left in the care of whatever guy you were hooking up with that month, while you went off and did your drugs. How did you really expect me to react to all this? Did you think once I became an adult I would know how to automatically take care of myself and then I would be grateful to you as though all of these instances were chances for me to learn to be out on my own?”

I suck in air and hiccup as I push back the tears. I can’t lose it. I must be strong. Resilient. The Cassie Noble I’ve grown to be. “No. It doesn’t work that way. Instead I was left to find myself a job and make money so I could go to college and struggle to get where I am today. I didn’t have anyone to help me through it all. Sure, there was Aunt Dorothy, and Sasha, but they had their own thing going on. Sasha’s dad was away on business trips, and they were trying to hold it together. Did you expect Aunt Dorothy to raise me, too? Obviously not. I don’t think they even knew what was going on half of the time.” My mom had an Oscar winning performance keeping her lifestyle under wraps for so long and feared me into thinking I’d end up in foster care if I told anyone. I managed to keep it a secret most of my life. I should get an Oscar, too.

She’s motionless, except for the machine. The hum of the heater buzzes in my ears, a reminder of that space heater. I bolt upright when someone marches into the room, a teenager. She stops in her tracks when she sees me. She has dark hair outlining her face and black eyeliner I think she used a marker to put on.

She tightens her lips and nods at me, and I think this is her way of offering sympathy. “Sorry. I thought this was my mom’s room. She’s the next one over.”

I watch as she leaves and disappears to the room next to me. She didn’t look distraught. She didn’t look like she wanted to get away from her family. She probably has a close relationship with her mother and wants to sit at her side while she’s in the hospital. She’s more than likely been at her mom’s side through whatever illness brought her here, and wishes more than anything she’ll be okay. Here I am, and I barely even know my mother. I can’t hold it in any longer. The tears start to fall from my eyes and drip down my nose into my mouth. I sniffle as I try to control myself from breaking down into a hyperventilating state.
 

“All I ever wanted was a mother. I didn’t need to have the latest and greatest things or anything special. I only wanted
you
. And that was too difficult for you to give me. Between me and the drugs, you chose the drugs. When I left, you didn’t try to find me for how many years? Forgiving you, it’s too difficult. I can let go of it all. I have to. But I can’t forgive you.”

After all these years, it feels good to be saying all of this. This is what I should’ve said to her at Sasha’s house, but didn’t. Am I a cruel person for choosing to tell her all of this now? Perhaps. But I need to lift this boulder off me. I’m suffocating. I need to find peace within myself.
 

“I’m not saying I don’t love you. Those words never came out of my mouth. And I hope you’re okay with the kind of mother you have been, even if I’m not. And I hope that you’re happy in your new marriage, and you are truly clean and going forward can live a proper life. Right now, at least, I don’t think I can be a part of that. But maybe someday.”

I stop what I’m saying, realizing she
won’t
be there. She
can’t
live a proper life. I can
never be
a part of her life. She’s not going to recover from this. Ever.

What if by some miracle she
did
hear everything I said? I’m a horrible, horrible person and daughter and I should take it all back. I don’t want the last thing she hears from me to be that I hated her. I didn’t outright say that, but I didn’t say the kindest things either. I’m glad I shared my honest feelings with her, but at the same time, I should say something else.

Forgiveness is freeing.
There’s Sasha in my head again. She’ll forever be screaming this in my mind until I finally take a chance and do it. And mean it.

The machine she is hooked up to is beeping at a more rapid pace. Should I call someone in here? Is she going to be okay? I peer out the glass window in front of me and one of the nurses points to the monitor and leaves the desk and comes into the room.

“Is everything okay?” I rise from my chair and David follows behind the nurse.

“I’m Bridget. I’ve been taking care of Claire.” She doesn’t hesitate when she comes to my mom’s bedside, and doesn’t give me a second glance. She’s focused on my mom and pressing buttons on the machines. A tinge of jealousy jolts through me when she places her hand on my mom’s forehead. “Everything is okay, Claire. I’m here. So is David.”

And her absent daughter. I don’t fit into this equation. David is her life now. Or was. His eyes meet mine, and I know it’s time. He’s ready, or at least as much as he can be, because my mom is.
 

This machine is what’s keeping her alive. She’s no longer in there. Her chest is rising and falling, but only because a machine is telling it to. David waited for me and it’s time. He needs to move on, as do I. She’s already gone, she’s waiting for us to let go.

“I’m sorry, David. I can’t be here for the final …” I choke on my tears to keep them in. “Thank you for allowing me to see her.”
 

I take a step back and stare at this woman, this person I could have given a second chance to and refused. I stare at her and think of what David said, how she would change it all if she could. She can’t change the past, but I can change the future and my response to this situation. I step out of the room and before I turn to leave, I touch my hand to the glass and mouth silently, hoping she hears me, “I forgive you.”

Chapter

Thirty

What happens when someone dies? Does her soul leave her body and she floats above herself, waiting for her invitation into Heaven or does she listen to a list of all the ways she did people wrong on the long trip down to Hell? Does she reincarnate into a butterfly or a lamp or a spoon, or even a new human being? Is she able to watch the people around her, read their minds and understand their emotions?

My mother died tonight, and I have no way of knowing if she heard me forgive her.

My visit to her was supposed to be enlightening for me, a chance to say what I’ve been feeling and lift this burden off my shoulders. I told her I forgave her, and I really believe I do, but now I’m ridden with guilt. Guilt that I didn’t say these things sooner. Guilt that I thought these things at all.

I didn’t go into work at all today. After witnessing death, as much of it as I allowed myself to watch, it sort of takes the energy out of you. I comforted David the best I could, as someone who barely knew the deceased despite our blood. He told me this was what she wanted. She didn’t want the doctors to spend time trying to revive her if she lost her battle. My mom
was
happy, and she and David loved each other. Even if things didn’t go well between us, she felt blessed she had an opportunity to see me at Sasha’s.

And I threw spaghetti at her.

It’s six in the evening, and I can’t remember the last time I ate. I think I had a handful of cheerios around noon when Sasha came by, and Shannon tried to force-feed me a bowl of chicken noodle soup at around four. I drank the broth, that’s it. I’m sitting on my couch and that’s all I’m capable of right now. I’ve cried —
cried
— like my eyes hurt and I’m so tired but they’re wide open. The stickiness of my tears is holding them hostage, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to close them again.
 

I’m dried up. I don’t have any more tears to give. I’m ridden with shame and guilt, and I’m the worst person in the world. Sasha told me to go weeks ago to visit my mom, and I didn’t. Even when she texted me, she probably wouldn’t make it, what did I do? I waited three more days to go see her.

My phone chimes next to me. I don’t think I’ve picked it up the entire day. I called Terrence and said I wouldn’t be coming into the office. He offered his sympathies, and I accepted, though I think David is owed them, not me. The rest of the day I’ve been sitting in practically the same spot, staring at a blank television, trying to process this.

I pat the couch until the phone is underneath my hand. I’m expecting this time for it to be Aunt Ella or Aunt Dorothy, or maybe Sasha or Shannon again. The screen is flashing and it’s not any of them. It’s Keith and he wants to FaceTime.

Keith. In all of this, I’ve forgotten about him. Add onto my list of ways I’m a shitty person that I didn’t even call my boyfriend to tell him my mother died. My face looks as though I’ve been crying for months, not hours, and I’m not much in the mood for talking. I can’t ignore him, though.

I press the button to accept and when his face fills the screen, I forget for a moment about the pain, and my heart is together again. “Keith.” I can’t say his name with enthusiasm. I can barely move, much less talk. “What time is it in London?”

“It’s one in the morning. I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t want to bother you at work and figured you would be home right now.” He squints and eyes my face up and down. “Are you crying? Did things not go well with your mom?”

I bite my lower lip as I shake my head. “She … she … she’s gone.” That’s easier to say than the D word.
 

“Cassie, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I … I’ve been sitting here on the couch all day, thinking. I said mean things to her before she … well they weren’t the kinds of things daughters say to their mothers before they pass away. I’m such an asshole.” I can’t keep eye contact with him. I’ll cry even more.

“You’re not an asshole. A lot of people wouldn’t have even gone and you did.”

“I forgave her, Keith.” I bring my attention back to him. He’s sitting up in his bed, his head against the headboard. “I said the words before they took her off the respirator. But she didn’t hear me.”

“You don’t know that. You went, and that’s the important thing. I’m hopping on the first flight in the morning and coming home.”

“No, you’re not.” I sit up for the first time in hours, and my tired back almost forces me back down again. “Stay with your family. There’s nothing you can do here.” I don’t want to be a burden on him.
 

“Yes, there is. I can be there for you, offer you comfort, and attend the funeral with you.”

“There isn’t going to be one.”

“What?” The space between his eyebrows shortens. “Why not?”

“She didn’t want one. She’ll be cremated, and David is taking her ashes. You have to understand that she wasn’t the most favorite person in our family.”

“That doesn’t mean no one would attend her funeral.”

“It’s exactly what it means. Sasha, David, and possibly me and my aunts. That’s it.” I think about when I die. I can’t say I’d have many more people at mine. “Besides, this is what she wanted. She and David discussed it. She has it in her will. So no, don’t come back.”

He’s fixated on my face, and sympathy is written all over his. “No. I’m coming, Cassie. Nothing can keep me away from me when you need me.”

I don’t expect him to come. I don’t expect anyone to do anything for me. I can’t believe I’ve found someone who cares for me so much he’s willing to cross the Atlantic at a moment’s notice to be with me.

I don’t deserve this.

Chapter

Thirty-One

A little more than twenty-four hours later, I’m at the airport, picking Keith up. He wanted to take a cab, but I insisted. While he spent fourteen hours on a plane, I spent those same hours trying to sleep. I tossed and turned all night, incapable of falling into a slumber. Anytime I closed my eyes, there lay my mother, machines attached to her, unable to communicate. It’s funny how many times as a kid I was in her presence when she was so doped up she passed out on the floor. This wasn’t the same. Not even close.

When Keith meets me at the front entrance, he drops his bags down and runs to me. I don’t move. My favorite black boots are glued to the ground, unable to process that this man came to me, came to rescue me like my Knight in Shining Armor, something I never in my life thought I wanted or deserved.

“Cassie,” he says when he reaches me, throws his arms around me and presses his lips to mine as though it’s the last kiss we’ll ever share. The familiarity of his kiss breathes me back to life, and I embrace him too. I never want to let him go. When we pull apart, I bury my head in his chest and sob.
 

“I’m sorry, Keith,” I mumble into his jacket, and he holds me tighter.

“It’s okay. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He kisses the top of my head, and I hold him for a moment longer before we grab his bags and go back to my car.

“You didn’t need to pick me up.” He slams his car door, and I flip on the seat warmer for him. Once he clicks his seatbelt in, I pull away from the curb.

“Yes, I did. I had to get out of my house. I had enough of that place.” I crack the window and inhale loudly. “The fresh air is good. I’m only sucking in the circulated heat in the house. This is nice.”