Precious Consequences(5)

I step out of the shower and dry myself off. When I walk back out into my room, Rachel is nowhere to be found and I sigh in relief. I would hate to kick her out, especially after the killer blowjob she gave me, but I don’t tolerate drama and that girl thrives on it. There’s no need to add to the rigid atmosphere that holds us captive in this house. I dress quickly, pack my bag and make my way downstairs. My classes only start at eleven, but I have to take my three-year-old nephew, Jordan, to daycare and then meet Noah at the coffee shop on campus. I walk into the kitchen and find my mother sitting down at the breakfast counter, her back to me. Jordan is propped up in his high chair with a bowl in front of him. The chocolate cereal decorates his mouth as well as every surface around him.

“Oh, Jordan, eat nicely!” my mother admonishes with a shake of her head. Jordan laughs, finding my mother hilarious, and she can’t help but laugh with him. I listen to the sound of her laughter filling the kitchen for the first time in two years. I wish she’d laugh more, it’s a beautiful sound, and so is the smile I know that accompanies it. But I’m the reason she doesn’t laugh anymore. And it kills me.

“Mornin’, Mom,” I greet.

“Cameron!” My mother shrieks and jumps in her chair, spilling more of Jordan’s cereal. “You’ll give your momma a heart attack sneaking up like that!” She turns to face me, her hand resting on her chest, and gives me her full, mega-watt smile.

“Sorry, Mom,” I chuckle. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just came down to grab some coffee before I take Jordan to daycare.”

“That’s fine, honey,” she says, turning her attention back to the squealing toddler in front of her. “We’re almost done here. Jordan is obviously finished with his food because now he’s just playing with it and making a mess.”

“Have you heard from Candice and Brett?” I ask, thinking about my sister. They decided to take one last holiday before their second baby is born and my mother was only too thrilled to have Jordan for the week. I had to admit, having the little man here seemed to lighten the mood in the house, maybe even breathe a little more life into it. I fill a mug with freshly brewed java and lean my hip against the counter. My mother cleans Jordan’s face and pulls him out of the high chair. As soon as his little feet hit the ground, he sets off running in my direction. I put the coffee mug down just as he hits my legs and I catch him, lifting him into my arms.

“Hey, little man. You enjoy your breakfast?” I smile at him and he nods, burrowing his head into my neck. I’ve become used to his little displays of affection and I’ll come to miss them when he leaves. Something about the way he hugs, or even touches, is so innocent and sincere. It’s a reminder of what we are, before life happens and takes it from us.

My mother comes to stand in front of us. “Your sister called this morning,” she says. “They are having a wonderful time in Paris, but she says she can’t wait to come home.” Her smile falters slightly. “I’m going to miss having Jordan here,” she adds. The sadness that has taken root in my mother's eyes shines bright. I force myself to look away, afraid that it will stifle me.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask Jordan.

He smiles wide before yelling, “Yes! Go ride in Uncle Cam’s truck!” He claps his hands excitedly and wriggles free from my grasp. He runs into the foyer and waltzes back into the kitchen, holding his backpack proudly. My mother positions it on his back and he takes it as his cue to go to my truck.

My mother looks at me. “Cam,” she starts. “Have you been to see -” I put my hand up to stop her.

“No, Mom,” I shake my head. “Don’t.”

“You can’t avoid it forever,” she says, her bottom lip trembling. “We’ll have to make a decision soon, and I want you to make peace b-b-before….” Her words trail off as her small body trembles, shaking with broken sobs. I wrap my arms around her and try my best to push aside my guilt long enough to comfort her. I want to say I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s not enough. It won’t change anything. It won’t bring back what I took from our family.

My mother pulls away and looks at me. “Cam, I don’t blame you and neither does Candice. We never did. We love you,” she says, cupping my face. “Please, do it for me. Our family needs to heal, and you need to forgive yourself.” I wish her pleas fell on deaf ears, but they don’t. I hear them loud and clear.

“Mom, I - ” I don’t know what to say. It won’t be what she wants to hear, so I try for something that will satisfy her, even if it’s temporarily. “I’ll try,” I say, releasing a heavy breath from my chest. “I just need some time.” Her silent nod is acquiescing and I know she couldn’t possibly understand why I need time, or why I am undeserving of her forgiveness. I kiss her on the forehead and leave the kitchen. Jordan is waiting patiently beside my truck and hops into his car seat as soon as I open the door. He’s quiet in the back, and I can’t say that I mind. It makes it easier for me to deal with the clusterf*ck of warring emotions in my chest during the short drive to the daycare center. I cut the ignition and jump out. When I fling Jordan onto my shoulder, his high-pitched squeal and consequent laughter somehow makes me feel lighter, like it’s okay to smile. So I do.

When I walk into the daycare center, the two women that work the front desk both smile at me, batting their eyelashes. This isn’t abnormal. I get this reaction nine times out of ten when I walk into a room. “Mornin’, ladies.” I give them the boyish grin that makes them squirm and they respond with a round of giggles. I try not to roll my eyes when they lean over and push their tits out in an attempt at being provocative.