If The Seas Catch Fire(78)

“Climb higher, Seryozha!” Vasily had taunted from the ground.

Mikhail had egged him on too. “Mama won’t know if you broke your arm from ten feet up or twenty!”

Sergei had climbed higher. Much higher. And he hadn’t broken his arm, but Mama had caught them, and she’d punished them for encouraging him and him for listening to them. The moment their backsides healed from that whipping, they were back out there, climbing higher than ever. They’d been punished for that too, but it was worth it.

Mama laughed softly at something only she understood. “Ever since he could walk, my Sergei’s wanted to be just like his brothers. And his brothers, they just love him. They protect him like his father does.”

Sergei’s throat constricted, nearly cutting off his breath. Memories flooded his mind, but some of the bad ones were creeping in too.

“Stay here.” Vasily’s voice had trembled as he’d pushed Sergei down between the front and back seats of the station wagon. “Don’t make a sound.”

“Promise, Seryozha.” Mikhail had covered him with a blanket, nearly suffocating him and muffling his last plea: “Not a sound.”

“I wish they’d come see me,” she said, oblivious to the salt she was pouring in his wounds. “I miss my boys.”

Sergei squirmed, pushing back both tears and nausea, and he forced his voice to be calm and even. “I’m sure they miss you too, Mama.”

She turned to him, brow furrowed. “Why would you call me that?”

Sergei’s heart skipped. “Sorry. Sorry, I…” He cleared his throat. “You remind me of my mother.”

“Oh.” Her features relaxed and the smile came back. “She’s a lucky woman, if you’re anything like my boy.”

“I’ll pass it along,” he whispered, almost choking on the words.

“Good. You seem like a good boy.” Gazing out the window again, she softly added, “Just like my Sergei.”

His chest ached and he turned enough to hopefully hide his grimace. With a few slow, deep breaths, he composed himself, though the lump in his throat probably wasn’t going anywhere.

“You should take your pills,” he whispered.

“Oh.” She looked at him, then the cup, then him again. “Okay.”

He helped her take them, and after she’d finished, she gazed out the window.

“I should go,” he said.

She turned to him again, and her expression was blank. “Who are you?”

Because he needed one last kick in the balls before he left.

He smiled tightly. “I just came in to help you with your meds.” He patted her arm. “The nurse will be in later to take you to physical therapy.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “All right.” Once again, she looked out the window.

He sighed and left the room. As soon as he was out in the hall, he stopped to collect himself. He’d never had any illusions that this would get easier, but he hadn’t bargained for how much harder it could get.

“You all right, sweetie?” Brittany’s voice turned his head.

He rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, I’m just…” He held her gaze, and realized she’d probably heard it all before. Even if she didn’t know precisely what had happened, what Sergei and Mama had seen that horrible night, she worked with dementia patients. As much as anyone in the world could without knowing the specifics, she understood. He didn’t need to explain it. For that, he was more grateful than she could imagine.

He exhaled hard. “It’s tough.”

“I know it is.”

They fell into stride together, and walked partway down the hall in silence before she finally spoke again. “It’s good that she has you, Sergei. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but your visits really do make a difference.”

“How can they? She doesn’t know who I am.” He looked back toward Mama’s room, and shook his head. “She doesn’t recognize me as an adult. She doesn’t even know who I am.”

“No, but I think, on some level, she does know. And even if she thinks you’re one of your brothers, honestly, it does her good. She gets lonely sometimes, and whenever you’re here, she’s good for at least a couple of days before she starts getting depressed again.”

“She doesn’t even know why she’s depressed.”

“Doesn’t matter. She still feels it.” Brittany gestured toward the room. “And whenever you’ve been here, she feels better. She’s much calmer.”

“That’s good, I guess.” They walked on, and were nearly to the lobby when he slowed to a stop. She halted beside him too, and after a moment, Sergei said, “I’m curious about something.”

“Sure.”

“Does she have…” Sergei chewed the inside of his cheek. “Nightmares?”

Brittany’s eyes darted away. “Sometimes.”

His heart clenched. “Does she ever say what she dreams about?”

Without meeting his gaze, Brittany shook her head. “She never says what they’re about. By the time she’s calmed down enough to talk, she’s…”

“Forgotten?”

The nurse nodded. “We do everything we can to calm her down, though. I promise.”