Sweet Sinful Nights

“I can’t even imagine. It must be awful.”

She poured half a glass. “It’s gotten worse in the last few years. She wasn’t like this before, though, when I first knew you. She was more together. She’s become more...” Her voice trailed off as she struggled for the words to describe her mother. Dora had been a passionate and desperate woman when Shannon was younger, desperate to achieve more than the little she’d had. Once she was locked up, all that passion churned into something else—an anxious, dangerous determination, a rattled desire for freedom.

Shannon picked up her wine and took a sip. “More unstable, but obsessive too. She’s always trying to get people to listen to her. I bet she’s contacting the Innocence Project. She’d do that. She’d spend her time getting up to speed on prisoner rights and wrongful convictions. She’s convinced she’s not supposed to be behind bars.”

“Have you ever thought she shouldn’t be?” he asked, a softness to his tone. She could tell he wasn’t suggesting Dora was innocent, as Ryan often did. He was simply asking what she believed.

“The evidence against her is pretty compelling. I know the truth. I’m sure of it, but she’s still my mom, and she’s still in prison,” she said, heading to her yellow couch, the kind of bright yellow that made the room feel cheery, in contrast to Shannon’s mood right now. “But I’ll go anyway. Ryan needs me. He’s always been caught up in her orbit. I need to go with him.”

“I’ll go with you if you want.”

His words surprised her. She hadn’t been expecting that. No one had ever offered to be a part of this side of her life. Then again, she’d never gotten close enough to anyone to let him or her in this far. “What?” she asked, incredulous.

“I’ll go with you,” he said, again, making it sound so simple. “If you want me to. I know it can’t be easy. Let me be there for you.”

Her mood switched in an instant, as she shrugged off the dark and heavy cloak of the day. “You’re amazing. It’s five hours away though.”

He laughed. “I’m not afraid of a little car time. Especially if it means I can be with you.”

“You can’t go in though, to see her. Only pre-approved visitors like family and friends she knew before she was in prison are allowed.”

“I’m not going to see her. I’m going to be there for you. I’ll drive you. I’ll wait for you in the parking lot or waiting room or wherever. Wait—do they even have waiting rooms in prison?”

She chuckled lightly. Only Brent could make her laugh about this. “Oddly enough, they do,” she said, then let her mind imagine how much better it would be to have him waiting for her when she was done. “Brent,” she said, speaking softly as she settled into the couch, “why do you do so much for me?”

“Why do I do so much for you?” he repeated, as if her words didn’t make sense. “What do you mean?”

“Does it ever bother you that you’ve had such a normal life and I have this... crazy one? I have so much baggage, and you have none.”

“Baggage doesn’t scare me.”

“It doesn’t bother you that my family is so messed up?” she asked, because it bugged her. “It’s so uneven between us. I mean, you just offered to take me to visit my mother in prison, who’s behind bars for murdering my father for money. Meanwhile, you bake pumpkin pie for your parents every year at Thanksgiving. What could I possibly ever do for you?”

He scoffed loudly. “You have no idea what you do for me.”

“Then tell me. I can’t even imagine what I could ever do that would compare.”

“First of all, it doesn’t have to compare. You send me a selfie of us and I’m fucking ecstatic,” he said, and his voice was filled with sincerity that made her heart beat faster. He was the easiest person to please, and she loved that about him. “Think of me like a cactus. I don’t require much. A little water, some sun, I’m good.”

“I’ve often thought of you as my sunflower, but cactus works too,” she said, as a smile spread across her face. “I guess that means I’m a hibiscus. They need a ton of water.”

“That’s why we’re right for each other,” he said, and she wished she were with him right now, to see his face, to touch his cheek, to kiss those lips that said words that made her feel so much joy.

“But sometimes I worry that I don’t have enough to give,” she said, voicing her deepest concerns. That no matter what, she would always be the one needing him more than he ever needed her. “That all I’m doing is taking because I need so much. That you’ll resent me.”