Her eyes are still brimming with tears, and she looks so worn down.
“I don’t want you to lie to him, Blair. I just want you to not say anything to him about me not being his mom. If he asks you straight out, then by all means tell him the truth. All I’m asking is that if you do think he’s remembering give me a heads up. I will tell him eventually, I just can't bear to put any added stress on him. In all honesty, I’m not sure if I’m even strong enough to tell him right now.”
We sit in a weighty silence for what feels like hours, but I’m sure is only seconds in reality. I can’t believe I’m in this situation again already. I want to tell her no, but then I know how broken he looked earlier today, and I think she may be right. I don’t think he could handle this right now, and especially not if she’s about to tell him that his dad’s a quadriplegic.
“Fine,” I mutter in a strangled whisper.
“What?” the pair of them reply at once, only Moira’s voice sounds hopeful, and my mom’s sounds almost stifled and disbelieving.
“I said, fine…I promise I won't say anything, unless he asks me flat out.”
Mom shakes her head and gives Moira a look that quite clearly tells her she’s not happy. Moira, on the other hand, looks like I just took the weight of the world from her shoulders.
We stay in my room for a little while longer, talking about Frank and what’s going to happen next before Moira says she needs to get back to Ethan. I did plan on visiting with him again this evening but now I don’t dare face him. Mom waits for Moira to leave before fixing me with the disappointed glower again.
“Don’t say it,” I put my hands up and look away from her as I climb into the bed. She sighs picks up a magazine and begins leafing through the pages. She’s accepting my decision, for now at least, and although I’m not even sure it’s the right one myself, I love her for it.
From: Jackson
Hey man, how you feeling today? Your mom says you’ll be home soon. The guys and I wanted to come visit you, but your mom’s asked us to wait till you get back. Brie’s filled me in on everything that’s been happening. She texts Blair every 30 seconds for an update! Call me when you get a chance, bro.
I read the message and wonder why Jackson and Brie are even talking before I realize that I’ve obviously forgotten more than just my girlfriend. I begin to scroll through the fifty or so texts I’ve received from the rest of the guys over the last couple of days. They’re all much the same, sending well wishes and asking about Blair and my dad. I don’t feel like talking to anyone at the moment; I’m not sure my brain could handle it. I decide to send a text out instead. Besides, I doubt I could answer anyone’s questions given that I still don’t remember shit about the crash.
To: Jackson, TJ and 1 more…
Hey guys,
Doing good, should be outta here soon. Don’t slack on band practice. I’ve screwed my wrist up pretty bad, I’m counting on you guys to pick up the slack and make me sound good at our next gig.
I hit send, and before I can even toss my phone back onto the bed, it starts going nuts with replies.
From: Drew
Good to hear you will be home soon. Not the same without you here, TJ’s already trying to take your place as front man ;)
From: Jackson
We’ve got your back. Will call later
From: TJ
No offense man, but who cares about your wrist ;) Tell me about the nurses! Any hot ones willing to give you a sponge bath??? Send pics—of nurses, not you!
From Drew
TJ - You’re a dick!
From: Jackson
The asshole’s still on form, you ain't missing much here! Later Bro.
I smile down at the screen and for a fleeting moment, I actually feel like everything is normal until mom walks in and shatters the illusion. Her worried look is one I’m used to. She wears it a lot.
“You okay?” I ask, placing my phone down and giving her my full attention. There’s a long pause and I know I’m not going to like whatever’s coming next. I brace myself and wait for her to say what it is that’s so blatantly bothering her. I can feel my shoulders begin to tense, and the silence is deafening. This is how it’s always felt between us—strained and uncomfortable. I’m beginning to get agitated with this weird standoff we seem to have entered, and I’m about to tell her to just spit out what’s wrong when she sits and decides to finally speak.
“I need to talk to you about your father, Ethan. He’s in a bad way.”