Bait (Wake, #1)(91)

MY MAIN GOAL WAS letting her go. And a few days after May twenty-f*cking-third, something entirely different stole my focus.

I walked into my mom’s house and found her lying on the couch, something that I couldn't ever remember seeing her do. She was napping. In the middle of the day.

I went to her and sat down on the hardwood floor.

I shook her gently.

“Hey, Mom. It's me. Are you okay?” I asked as I sat on the floor beside her. She looked sick, and not at all like the last time I'd seen her. When was that? A month ago? The hospital when Foster was born?

She looked a little thinner then, but not really ill. She hadn't mentioned anything when we talked on the phone.

She stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

“Hi there, baby boy,” she said. Her eyes looked puffy, probably from sleep, but they also looked a little sad.

“What's wrong? Mom, you look like you don't feel very well.” I didn’t want to make her feel bad if she wasn’t that sick by saying so, but she didn’t look herself.

“I don't,” she admitted and leaned up on one arm. She ran her free hand through my hair. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?” It was a somber question, not a happy one.

“Yeah, you have.” The hair on the back of my neck stood up, my instincts screamed that something was really f*cking wrong. “What's going on? You're freaking me out.”

“There is nothing to freak out about. And there's nothing you can do. I'm sick,” she admitted, but my intuition told me there was more.

She wasn't sick-sick. My mom was never sick. She grew damn near everything she ate. She was fit. My mom was healthy.

“What kind of sick?” I felt like I already knew the answer.

“Well, right now I'm tired more than anything. Spending a few days on the road with a newborn can really drag it out of you. I don't know how I did it with two of you at the same time.” She chuckled and I watched what seemed like happy memories skirt past in her pretty blue eyes.

“And?” I asked knowing she was stalling.

Finally, she drew a breath and said, “And I'm dying.” One lonely tear fell out of the corner of her eye.

“No, you just have the flu or something. Don't be like that. Come on. I'll make you something to eat.” This wasn’t happening. Did I not have control of anything? I wasn’t going to accept it. She couldn’t die. I needed her.

“Oh, honey. I have cancer. Lots of cancer in fact. You name a place in your old mom and it's there.”

Cancer.

“What? No. No. No.” I shook my head while I ran my trembling hands over my face, trying to scrub the words she’d just hit me with away. “No. You’re lying. Don’t say this. No. No.” My voice cracked and my ears rang.

It didn't make sense at all. My dad who ate trash and smoked cigars should have cancer. I love him, but for f*ck's sake, that seemed more believable.

“Are you sure?”

She laughed and swiped at the other tears that fell out chasing the first. “I'm sure.”

“When did you find out?”

“About a year ago, I've actually made it a lot longer than they thought I would.”

A f*cking year!?

“Why? Why didn't you tell me? Are you going through treatments? I could have been here. Why didn't you tell me?” I had to make a major effort not to yell at my sick mother. But I was so mad.

“Because, Casey, all I wanted was for you to be happy. I'm no fool. I know you've been chasing that girl. Micah told me all about it. And don't you get mad at her, either. I wanted you to follow your heart and that meant chasing your dream for the brewery and seeing what was possible with Blake. I knew about her wedding. You didn't have much time, honey. I couldn't get in the way.”

“Get in the way? You're my mom. I should have been here. And Blake didn't want me. I was being stupid. It was all for nothing. I didn't get her and I missed out on being here for you. Were you alone?”

“No, sweetheart. Cory and Micah know and your dad. I told them not to tell you,” she said without shame. “I wanted you to at least get a fair shot. I wanted you to find your happiness. And, baby, you were so close.”

I stood up, panic, fear, anger. Every terrible emotion I'd ever felt hit me.

“I'm going outside for a minute. I'll be right back.”

I walked outside and then I kept walking. When I made it to the end of her property that butted up against the woods, I screamed. I swore. I damned everything I could think of.

Myself. Blake. My mom. Dad. Cory. Micah. Cancer. Lies. That f*cking bar. My job. Everything was to blame.

How could they not f*cking tell me? They let me pursue some girl who would never want me, and as a result, stopped me from spending time with my mom who did want me. How the f*ck could they have done that to me? Do they think I am that selfish that I wouldn’t care about my own mother?

But what would I do if my dying mother asked me to mind my own business and keep her secret? I’d have done whatever she’d asked. As the minutes ticked by, I realized it wasn’t their fault.

I sat out there for probably close to three hours working and re-working everything over in my head. How could I fix this?

All I knew was that I wouldn't leave my mom. Not now. Not when she'd put herself before me, and what she wanted for me.