As we get closer, a storm inside me is brewing. Already, sweat builds on my upper lip and my head begins a slow pound that gets worse as we pass each off-ramp. “It’s the Winston exit, one hundred nineteen to highway forty two,” I choke out, and Ember proceeds to put her blinker on and get in the right hand lane.
I’m not so sure this was a good idea. At least when I’m by myself and I break down, I can do it without any outside witnesses or judgment. Not that I think she would judge me at this point, because I don’t think she would. I just don’t want anyone else to see me this vulnerable.
“Take a left at the end of the exit and then a right at the first traffic light.” I’m on autopilot now as I square my shoulders and exhale a deep breath as if preparing for battle. The illusion of strength is better than the messy reality of shit living inside of me. Besides, someone has to be strong for my mother. My father barely comes here at all. And Julian, well, it’s just too hard for him. I want to scream that this is fucking hard for me, too. But I can’t stop—because that means I’ve given up hope. And once that’s gone. What’s left?
My fingers grip the door handle, knuckles turning red from the exertion. Suddenly, my skin is too tight for my own body. Everything is coming to a head, like an explosion that can’t be contained. “My mother has been here for a few years now. It never gets any easier.”
The car slows to a stop and I sense Ember’s hand moving toward mine on the seat. It never quite makes it and I let out a ragged breath. I’m not sure it’s relief. But I do know it’s better for me this way.
“I can’t begin to imagine how hard this is for you. Do you…,” she starts. A thick pause, then she tries again. “I mean… would you like me to come in with you?”
I’m taken aback, and at the same time, there is nothing I wouldn’t fucking do to not have to go in there alone. But I don’t want her to see my mother like this. And I’m trying like hell for her not to see me.
I look up to find those big green eyes full of concern, and I want to scream yes at the top of my lungs. The one word my lips can’t seem to form. Instead, I shake my head as I reach for the door handle, glancing back to give her a half-smile. “I appreciate it, though.”
My legs are like lead as I walk toward the building. Putting one foot in front of the other is too much effort. My steps slow and instead of going forward, I end up slouched against the cement wall. Sweat breaks out across my neck and under my arms. Rejection of this whole damn situation crawls along my skin like a rash that never goes away. The clock is ticking though, and I know that. It’s been six years and while I fucking hate statistics, I can’t ignore them.
I try to catch my breath, but it’s choppy and jagged. That fucking meditation shit Julian is into would come in handy about now. Not an ounce of me knows how to be calm about this—how to be ‘accepting.’ My mind grapples with wanting to kick the crap out of anyone who can’t make my mother well again.
“Vance.” Ember’s voice is soft yet firm. “I’m going to come in with you.” Her quiet insistence leaves no room for argument. Frankly, I probably need that right now. I’m in no position to dispute her when my body feels like it could crumple to the ground at any moment. “Come on.”
A gentle touch on my lower back propels me forward. She opens the door for me and I walk through as I’ve done hundreds of times before. My resolve is weakening though. That shell of strength cracking. Maybe it was a fa?ade all along.
I catch a glimpse of Mr. Hinkle out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t have the wherewithal to do anything except give him a weak wave of my hand. As usual, he has other plans.
“Vance. Who is this pretty young thing you’ve brought with you today?”
Risking a look at Ember, I’m not surprised to find her cheeks more rosy than normal. She utters a cheerful hello and without hesitation, reaches out her hand to Mr. Hinkle who is grinning from ear to ear.
“I’m Ember. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Marty Hinkle,” he winks, “and the pleasure is all mine.” He turns his attention to me. “I’m not sure where you’ve been hiding this one, but you’ve made my day so I thank you.” His gaze lands on Ember’s feet and he slaps his knee. “I loved that little guy growing up.” His stare moves beyond us to the window. “My siblings and I used to sit and watch The Mickey Mouse Club while we waited for dinner.” His focus returns to us, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Anyway, any friend of Mickey’s is a friend of mine. Enjoy your visit.”
“Nice meeting you,” Ember calls out as we travel down the hallway. “He’s lovely,” she remarks once we’re out of earshot. “Why is he here?”
“Mr. Hinkle, he’s….” I keep talking, my body thankful for something to do or it’s going to shut down. “He’s the youngest of three but his siblings have passed away as have his parents. Being in the wheelchair, he has no one to look after him.”