The nurse startles Mom as she lets the door to the family room bang shut when she enters. I sit up and lower my legs from the coffee table. Pulling out one of the buds of my headphones, I wait for her news.
“I just wanted to let you know that visiting hours will be over in ten minutes, but Mr. Jamison is awake again now if you want to say goodbye for the night.”
“Thanks, we’ll be right in,” I answer and Mom smiles sympathetically at me.
We gather up our things, my hoody and Mom’s purse, place the plastic coffee cups we’ve collected in the trash and follow the nurse out of the room. My mom enters first and sits in the chair at the end of his bed; I follow and stay standing behind her.
“You’re still here?” he says, the surprise is evident in his week quiet tone.
“So are you?” I reply, the disappointment evident in mine. Mom shoots me a quick pleading look, as if asking me to be civil with her eyes. I take a deep breath and try muster up some strength to stand in here and not get into an argument.
“How are you feeling?” she asks Dad, and he lets out a small huff.
“Like I’ve been in a crash.” He may have lost the use of his body, but his sarcastic nasty streak seems to have survived unscathed.
I stiffen as Mom barks out his name in warning. I can’t help but feel a little pissed. I’ve never heard her once raise her voice to him, and I just assumed she was incapable. His eyes narrow marginally and I can tell he’s thrown just as much as me by the bite to her voice.
“We were told to come and say goodnight. Visiting’s over,” I say and make to leave. I don’t want to be in here a second longer than is necessary.
“Sit down, Ethan,” Mom orders again, and now I’m really aggravated. Where the fuck was this assertiveness the rest of my life? I do as she says out of curiosity for her newfound boldness rather than anything else, and wonder what she’s up to.
“Ethan will be leaving to go back home in the morning,” she announces to my dad, and it’s the first I’ve heard of it too. “He has lots to catch up on before graduation and he has hospital appointments he shouldn’t miss.”
“What hospital appointments?” Dad asks, his eyes skimming me for signs of injury.
“I have physiotherapy for my wrist, and I need to see the neuropsychologist about my memory,” I offer, shortly.
“What’s wrong with your memory?”
“I told you this already, Frank. He was in a coma after the accident. He hurt his head...remember?”
I’m not sure if it’s annoyance that Mom’s answered his question, or if its concern I detect in his expression.
“Are you okay?” he asks and I let out a disbelieving laugh.
“What does it matter to you? You’ve never once given me a second thought when you’ve beat me unconscious; why’s this any different? You hate me.”
“Mom spins again, regarding me with a horrified look and I shrug. “What, it’s the truth!” I state indignantly.
“Stop saying that. I do not hate you!” Dad raises his voice shakily, and we both turn to look at him.
“I’ve never hated you,” he says evenly. “I told you earlier, I can’t control my anger with you. You ignite memories and feelings that I spend every damn day trying to bury, and it’s relentless. I know what I put you through isn’t right. I just can’t help it and I…I can’t control it. I can’t stop myself. I’m sorry, Ethan. God, you’ll never understand how sorry I truly am.”
I squeeze my eyes shut tight and shake my head; I don’t want to hear that he’s sorry, sorry doesn’t cut it.
“I should never have let it get to this either. I should have protected you and I didn’t.” I open my eyes and even though she’s speaking to me, she’s staring at Dad.
“I shouldn’t have put him or you in a situation that needed protecting from me,” he tells her.
“Two minutes please, and then I‘ll have to ask you to leave,” the nurse from earlier says as she pops her head around the door smiling kindly. She takes in the look of anger on my face and the tears staining my mom’s and pauses for a second before thinking better of it and her head disappears out of the room again.