Life In Reverse(28)

I try to catch my breath, but it’s choppy and jagged. That f*cking 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.”

“That’s so sad.” Her voice is a compassioned whisper and I try to ignore how it softens me in some way, needing to build up strength for what’s to come.

Before we enter Mom’s room, Ember hands me the flowers I didn’t notice she was holding. I walk in first. The curtains are drawn, bright sunlight bouncing off the yellow walls. My mother sits in her chair by the window, as always, but her eyes are elsewhere. She stares at the painting she did of me and Julian when we were ten. A tiny morsel of hope crops up in my chest. It dies off quickly when she shifts in her chair, startled, and faces me with a blank expression.

“Oh, hello. My, what pretty flowers.”

The hole in my stomach grows though I smile wide. “Hi Maggie. It’s Vance, and this is—”

“Clara?” My mother squints at Ember then blinks. “I can’t believe it. It’s been… years.” The emptiness in her eyes is replaced by a fondness I haven’t seen in a long time. I’m about to say something when my mother speaks again. “Come sit by me, Clara.” She pats the bed directly beside her chair and Ember sits down. I set the flowers on the table and lean my hip against the wall. Suddenly, it’s like I’m an outsider in my own life.

My mom tilts her head, her recently brushed hair resting against her fuzzy pink robe. With her hands intertwined in her lap, she surveys Ember. Warmth wrinkles the corners of her eyes and mouth. In this moment, she appears so young, so innocent. So… not ill, and warmth spreads through my chest. “The dance, right?” Mom stares at Ember and Ember nods. “I was wearing….” She pauses for several minutes, her cheeks lifting and contorting in thought. But then her smile fades and a tear slips from her eye. “I can’t… I don’t—”

My jaw ticks and I push off from the wall, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around my mother—to take away all her suffering—to bring back her memory. Ember’s voice stops me cold.

“I remember.” She places her youthful hands over Mom’s rapidly aging ones. “You were wearing that blue taffeta dress that crinkled as you walked.” Ember lets out a small laugh. “You thought it was so loud.” She continues as something jolts my heart and I back up, bumping into the wall. “You had your hair in a twist and you were wearing your favorite bright red lipstick that made your eyes pop.” My mother nods, a nostalgic smile curving her mouth as she stares down at her lap. “You looked so beautiful, and when you were dancing, no one could take their eyes off of you.” My mother’s smile grows as she holds onto Ember’s every word. “You’re still beautiful, Maggie.”

A tear spills from my eye and runs down my cheek. I don’t bother trying to push it away. I wonder who this girl is. If somehow she’s an angel that’s been sent here—which is crazy-thinking for someone like me. Yet a bandage rests over a sliver of my heart, seeing the joy on my mother’s face. Even if it is from a made-up memory. It’s something she can hold on to. Even though it only brings her joy in this moment, and in the next it’s forgotten.