Always: Broken Series Book Four (12 page)

T
he weeks went by
. I was fitted with a prosthesis, and learning to walk again was a huge pain. Literally. My friends came to visit me, one by one, even though some of them seemed like they were afraid of me. As if having cancer and losing a leg would somehow be contagious or something.

I also returned to school, even before I had the prosthesis. I wasn’t going to show up in a wheelchair, though, so I used crutches, which were extremely difficult to learn. I didn’t have a ton of upper-body strength, so it was challenging, to say the very least.

I didn’t know how to react to anything. I told the teachers not to give me special treatment, and they did the best they could, but I could tell that they had their sympathy eyes on me. I hated sympathy eyes. They were worse than my mom, really.

Mom thought that I didn’t know that she was acting for me. I knew, though. Every single day, after school, I would go in for my rehab session and mom and dad would be there. Mom would be happy and smiling and cheerful. She was always my biggest cheerleader.

Yet she was off. And, try as she might, she couldn’t hide the fact that she had a real problem with my dad. I didn’t ask either of them about that, though. I had enough on my plate without having to worry about whether or not mom and dad were going to stay together through all of this.

One day, though, when mom and dad did their usual routine with me – taking me to rehab while being silent in the car - I knew that I had to say something to one or both of them. They were so weird these days. They used to sing along to the radio together, with mom’s off-key voice and dad’s smooth one. They used to joke around all the time. They used to always touch each other wherever they were, and hold hands out in public all the time. I always caught them kissing in the kitchen and mom would always lay her head on dad’s shoulder while they watched movies at home. Whenever we ate, dad used to put a tiny piece of his food on mom’s plate if he was eating something different, like at a restaurant.

And they used to talk to each other. There was always non-stop conversation. Sometimes it was annoying to me because I couldn’t care less about what they were talking about. But the point is, they used to talk to one another. About work, about politics, about us kids, about movies, about….life.

But, ever since my surgery, there wasn’t much of any of that going on anymore. We would eat in silence, because mom would exclusively try to talk to me and ignore dad. Dad would still try to put a piece of food on her plate, but mom would shoot him the stink-eye, so he stopped doing that altogether. Mom refused to hold dad’s hand, even though he tried. Dad still tried to tease mom and joke with her, but she didn’t banter back, so it seemed that he just gave up. Dad still sang along with songs on the radio in the car, but mom didn't join in.

Come to think of it, only mom was weird. Dad was still dad. But mom was having none of it. So she was going to be the person that I was going to have talk to.

Which I did one evening after dinner. Dinner was as it usually was these days – mom and I took turns making a meal. I insisted on making dinner at least three evenings a week, because I was always wanting to try something new in the kitchen. Mom tended to keep to the same few dinners that she knew and had mastered – baked chicken, Chicken Parmesan, chicken tortilla casserole and a few other chicken dishes. Dad used to tease mom about her reliance on chicken, and mom used to tease back. Dad never minded, though, because mom was a halfway decent cook.

I, on the other hand, insisted on trying something new every time I cooked. When I was little, I used the recipe book. When I got a little older, though, I had more and more confidence in the kitchen, so I knew what ingredients to use with what, and I came up with different things. My parents usually loved whatever I fixed, and I had friends over from time to time, and they usually did, too.

On this particular evening, when I resolved to talk to mom, I had cooked up a shrimp Pad Thai fusion dish that featured a dash of curry and broccolini. Dad ate it with gusto, so did Chloe, while mom ate it more slowly. But she seemed to like it.

“How is it?” I asked her.

“Great,” dad said, “as usual.” He helped himself to another serving, digging his chop sticks into the bowl of Pad Thai at the center of the table. “You definitely will get to culinary school with these chops.”

“Mom?”

She looked up at me. She was on her first helping, and had only made it halfway through that. Her chop sticks picked up the Pad Thai, strand by strand, and then she would pause and then pick up the next strand. It looked like she didn’t want to eat the food, but I wasn’t insulted. These days, she looked like she barely wanted to eat any food, hers or mine.

“It’s delicious, honey.” Then she picked up another strand of food and seemed to force it into her mouth. “Just delicious.”

I looked over at dad. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, but that didn’t mean anything. Dad was an expert at covering up. He always had been. I had never seen dad truly upset about anything. Not when Olivia broke her leg when she was about my age, nor when Chloe had the flu so bad that she had to go to the hospital. Dad was always cool, and always seemed to be under control. Mom wasn’t as cool, but she certainly didn’t seem to be as weird then as she was now.

“Dad, after dinner, could you do the dishes by yourself? I really need to talk to mom.”

Usually mom and dad did the dishes together when I cooked. But I really needed to get to the bottom of why mom was acting the way that she was. I was tired of watching her be weird. She was overly nice to me and ignoring dad, and I didn’t like seeing that.

Dad’s expression changed for a brief moment. His eyes seemed to cloud over for a split second, and then he nodded his head. “I guess I’ll manage,” he said with a smile, “without my dish dog helper.” Then he turned to Chloe. “Chloe, you get to help with the dishes tonight. Won’t that be awesome?”

“Sure.” Chloe looked unenthusiastic at the prospect, as she usually did. She never was one for chores.

“Thanks dad.”

We ate the rest of the meal, and then dad cleared the table and got up to do the dishes. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”

It seemed that she didn’t really hear me when I said earlier that I needed to speak with her after dinner, because she seemed startled. “Okay, honey, after I do these dishes with your father.”

“Chloe’s helping him. Besides, I said earlier that I was going to talk to you after dinner. I thought that you heard me.”

“I guess I didn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Let’s go up to my room and talk.”

We went up to my room and mom sat in one of the easy chairs and I sat on the bed. I put my one knee up to my chest and I rubbed the other one. It was still hurting pretty bad, and they were trying to wean me off of painkillers, which I wasn’t looking forward to at all. I had finally broken down about taking the painkillers, even though I didn’t want to, earlier. They really helped, but I hoped that I wouldn’t get addicted.

I took off my prosthesis, and my mom cringed. She tried to hide her cringing, but it was plain as day to me.

“What did you want to talk to me about, baby?”

“What’s going on between you and dad?” No point beating around the bush.

She blinked her eyes. “What are you talking about?” Her voice was halting and weak. She also looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in this room at that very moment.

“You know.” She was going to try to play innocent, but I wasn’t having it at all.

She sighed. “There’s no hiding things from you, I guess.”

“Of course there’s no hiding things from me, mom. Seriously. You don’t think that I don’t notice the fact that you seem to hate him these days?”

She got to fidgeting and wringing her hands. “Hate is such a strong word.”

“Well you sure don’t seem to like him anymore.” I extended my hand. “So what’s going on?”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing going on.” Her tight smile told me that she was lying. “Why do you…”

“You’re just different. I mean, I know that this situation with my leg isn’t the greatest thing in the whole world. And I admit, when it first happened, I was pissed beyond belief. Just pissed. But I’ve accepted it, and it is what it is.” I patted my right stump and rubbed it a little. It was incredibly painful, and I always felt like the leg was still there and throbbing. It wasn’t, of course. My doctor said that I had “phantom limb syndrome,” and that it was hopefully going to go away with time. God forbid I still had that pain in six months, because the doctor said that if it doesn’t go away in six months, it may never. “At least I’m alive. And I might get on
Chopped Junior
because of it, so yay.”

She sighed. “I’ve had a hard time with all of this, baby, and I’m so sorry. I really wanted to be strong for you. And I feel that I have. I’ve tried to resume a normal life, and I’ve gone to every appointment with you.”

“Yeah, but you’re weird, mom. You’re different. I know that you’ve had counseling with Dr. Holloway, but I think that you and dad should have counseling together. There’s something off between the two of you, and there’s something off just with you. You guys need to figure it out, because the last thing that I want is for you guys to split up. I always told my friends that you two were the most in-love people I knew. All their parents barely tolerate each other, but you guys always seemed so in-sync. And now you don’t.”

“I’ll try harder.”

I rolled my eyes when she said that. “You don’t need to try harder, you need to figure it out. You don’t think that I don’t notice when you’re trying, as opposed to actually being natural about things? Do you really think it makes me feel good to know that you’re always there at my appointments and there for rehab, yet I know that you’re depressed and at odds with dad? How does that help me, mom?”

Tears came to her eyes. “I guess it doesn’t help you at all.”

I put my hand on hers. “No, it doesn't. But that’s okay. You can get it together. You just need to figure it out. Listen, Alison’s mom went through this when Alison’s sister Sophia died of cancer.” Alison was one of Chloe’s best friends. “She went through a period of severe depression and she almost split up with Alison’s dad. She went through a lot of counseling, though, and she’s not okay, but she’s better. She’s able to function, and Chloe says that Alison’s mom is starting to become more herself.”

Mom nodded her head. “I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you.”

“Not for me, mom. For you. You have to do it for you or it just won’t work out. I know that you’ve been seeing Adele, but I don’t think that you’re getting anywhere with her. Maybe you need to find somebody else. At any rate, I’d like for you and dad to get counseling together too. Maybe I can even come along. Maybe we all need counseling.”

“Adele is fine. I’m just…”

“Just what?”

“Having issues right now. I can’t talk to you about them, though.”

Right then, dad appeared at the open door. “Hey guys. I know that you’re talking amongst yourselves, but you left the door open. Does that mean I can join you?”

I nodded my head. “Sure dad. I mean, I guess you can know what we’re talking about here. I’m telling mom that she needs to get her shit together and stop treating you like crap. Basically, in a nutshell. What do you think about that?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Mom’s face got white as dad came into the room.

“Listen,” my dad said, “Addison, there’s a specific reason why your mom is acting like she is. It’s something that you don’t necessarily know, but it’s pretty important that you do find out.”

Hmmmmm….the plot thickens.
“Go on.”

“Mom is mad at me for a good reason.” Dad’s face suddenly looked very sad. “I left her at a very crucial time. When you went into the hospital for your surgery, I didn’t want to hang out around there, so I left for several hours. I thought that nothing much would happen, but that’s not really why I left.”

I waited for him to continue. So far, it didn’t sound like a bad thing. I was expected to be in surgery for several hours, and I didn’t necessarily expect my parents to be hanging around that depressing hospital that whole time.

“I left,” my dad continued, “because I was selfish. That’s it. I was selfish.” He started to look even sadder. “I just had this awful flashback to Michelle’s last days in the hospital. And I needed some time to think. That hospital was bringing it all back to me. I didn’t necessarily realize until you got sick just how much losing Michelle affected me. And I just felt like I couldn’t breathe. So, I left. I left and went to the beach. And, worst of all, I left my phone in the car. That was incredibly stupid of me, and I can’t even believe that I did that, even now.”

“Okay, dad, so you weren’t there when the doctor was threatening to take my leg. You weren't there to make that decision. Is that right?”

“You’re a very smart kid, but then I always knew that,” dad said. “That’s exactly why mom is mad at me.”

I looked over at mom. “Mom, you’re being redic. Absolutely redic. If that doctor had to take my leg, then he had to take my leg. I don’t blame you, mom, if that’s what you’re thinking. If I did blame you, I would have said something before now.”

Mom cocked her head at me. “Redic?”

“Ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous. Do you think that the outcome would be any different at all if dad was there with you making it? No? Then stop obsessing about that. You aren’t doing me any favors at all by treating dad like he’s some sort of leper or something.”

I saw mom’s face change, but she didn’t say anything. It almost looked like she was conceding my point or something.

“And dad, I have to tell you, I’m a little bit disappointed in you for doing that. But I understand why you did. Hospitals suck. They’re definitely not for everyone, and if your sister died in a hospital, then I can almost understand your need for some space. And you’re right, that surgery was supposed to be kinda routine. It didn’t turn out that way, but you didn’t necessarily know that was going to happen. So if you’re feeling guilty, which you probably are, just stop. Seriously, stop. Look at the big picture – I’m sick and I need both of you guys. And if you split up…”