Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (6 page)

BOOK: Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1)
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After my birthday weekend, Alys would drive the two hours back to Lafayette where she would go to college, earning her degree in accounting. Her dad, Papa David, had built up his own firm. As Alys was a mathematical wizard, she figured she might as well join the family business. It hadn’t been easy for her to make the decision to move away, but it wasn’t like we wouldn’t talk every day, and at least one out of the three of us should get the true college experience.

Lili would go to the community college that practically shared the campus with the technical institute where I would attend, so we would still be very much in each other’s daily lives. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with her life, so she was just going to continue her education for the moment while she figured it all out.

“How was the actual show?” asked Mom, pulling my head out of my silent musings.

“It was great,” replied Alys. “First Blood got everyone well pumped for NOLA’s Junk, and they put on their best show yet. They got a record deal with Rattlesnake Records and are going to make an album, probably to be released sometime next year.”

Mom will never hear their first album. She will never meet the man whose voice has the power to soothe my mind, give me courage, lift me up, and heal up my mental wounds.

Even though I could see the changes in her daily, could feel her slipping away from us, from me, my head couldn’t wrap around the fact that she was dying.

I took those thoughts and feelings and stuffed them deep down into the dark recesses of my psyche, and I did my very best to try to feel some happiness.

The day zipped by, and once the afternoon turned to evening, Da, Gloria, and Connor showed up, and we all headed to one of my all-time favorite restaurants—Otis’s Crab Shack. We would stuff ourselves with fried seafood, raw oysters, and mango iced tea.

The ramshackle place was located on the Mississippi—
literally
. The whole thing was perched on stilts and held up by magical means over the water. A weird little building, it was two stories, the heart of it being the kitchen and the only part that had any walls. It was open to the elements with waist-high railings enclosing the plastic patio furniture. The wooden floors creaked ominously when walked on, and every few years, Otis would replace the staircase leading to the top floor, which had aluminum sheets—probably salvaged from a wreck of some sort—for the roof.

It had been about a week since I last saw my brother, Connor. At the age of sixteen, he was a pretty lanky dude. Already as tall as Da, it was obvious Connor was going to top him soon. He was a handsome young man with his thick dark auburn hair and dark green eyes. I could well imagine that our Da looked just like Connor at sixteen. Like Mom and myself, he practiced yoga daily, and it showed on his growing body.

I busted Alys checking him out, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snickering.
Alys and her weakness for redheads—not even my baby brother is safe.

Like all teenagers, Connor was a bit broody. He’d been giving Gloria and Da a bit of a hard time recently. Being the bassist in a high school garage band could be so demanding.
Ha-ha.
In all honesty, he was a fucking musical genius. At least one of us was blessed with that ability. Connor could simply touch an instrument, and it would sing for him.

Da sat next to Mom, holding her hand, and I found it hard to watch. Looking at Da, I could see how much all of this had taken out of him. Haggard, looking older than his forty-five years, dark circles ringed his red-rimmed eyes, which seemed to constantly threaten tears. He had lost some weight, too, and had a bit more gray highlighting the dark auburn hair at his temples. I could sense the absolute pain coming from him, throbbing like a pulse. More than anything, he wanted to come home and hold her until it was all over.

How have I not seen this?

He never would have left her, if she hadn’t made him.

It was just so heartbreaking. Their love for each other was so strong, even eternal. I could see that now. And this was what their great passion for one another had been reduced to—occasional hand-holding. My mother was too weak to engage in any rigorous activity, and I supposed the stress of being with Da and not being able to
be
with him was too much for her poor heart.

That pain was inside of Gloria as well. She and my mother were lovers, too. They didn’t just share a man. They loved one another as much as they loved their Sigmund. They shared children, a family, an entire way of life that not many people understood.

Gloria was as much of a mother to me as Mom was. Granted, I didn’t have the same sort of closeness with her as I did with Mom, but I called Gloria Mom, too. She even kind of looked like my mother with her long dark brown hair and brown eyes. I personally thought my mother was the most beautiful woman in the whole world, but Gloria was a close second, and I guessed that was how it should be.

My grandmother had happily opened her home to us all those years ago. She hadn’t cared about the weird relationship her only child was in. At first, Gloria and Connor had lived with us, but I thought Gloria had felt uncomfortable about the whole situation, and she’d taken Connor to the city.

She’d ended up finding a small three-bedroom house. The hardest part was the fact that I hadn’t had my beloved baby brother with me all the time. For a few years, Gloria had made the half-hour drive back and forth nearly every day, so we could all have dinner together, but it just hadn’t been the same. Connor would end up crying and wanting to stay with me. I thought he hadn’t felt at home in the new house in NOLA either.

It had to be the worst for Grandma though, who was forced to watch as her only child slowly slipped away from her. The woman had gone from a spirited, feisty older lady, vibrant and joyful, to a withered bitter shell, both in body and soul. Her strength had transitioned into anger and resentment. I didn’t know if she had accepted her daughter’s fate. She wouldn’t discuss it with me much. I wasn’t so sure she could.

Looking over at Mom, I saw how tired she was and it hurt me to think that she was suffering on my account.

Stupid birthday dinner.
This is too much—for all of us. How can we all sit here and just pretend we’re not thinking that this is it?

Because it was.

I would never celebrate another birthday with this woman, the woman who had brought me into the world. Never again would I have my entire family together to celebrate anything. Once Mom was gone, she would take the beating heart of all of us with her.

We’re all together now for her. It’s the last time for her as well.

Under the table, Alys took my hand, squeezing hard. She always knew my heart and thoughts. I knew they were hers as well. I wasn’t the only one watching her mom slip away. Laurie was just as much a mom to Alys and Liliana, too. Connor was the son she should have been able to give Sigmund.

We were all the children of Laurie Craddock.

Mom’s gaze drifted into mine, and she knew what I was thinking. She always knew.

I love you
, she mouthed silently to me across the cheap, beaten-up round white plastic patio table, pressing her palms together before her heart.
Namaste.

Namaste
.
I returned the gesture, trying my hardest to smile back. “I love you, too.”

Life had taken on a monotonous nose-to-the-grind routine.

Every morning, I would wake up at six, brush my teeth, and head down to the back porch to do my sun salutations. Since class started at eight, I really had no choice in the matter. I hated waking up so early but not as much as how I’d feel if I hadn’t done my yoga.

It had become a solitary, lonely practice for me over the last few weeks. Mom couldn’t even find the strength to wake up and critique me anymore, hardly ever getting out of bed before ten. I wasn’t bothered about being alone. I missed her presence by my side. Each day, I felt her life force diminishing that much more. Somewhere along the way, I gave up trying to fight it.

I’d added daily meditation to my routine. Through it, I had become tranquil in the face of the inevitable. I had no true joy, no happiness, and I hadn’t since my birthday three weeks ago. But I was not mad with my grief either. I wasn’t infused with smoldering anger anymore. I had discovered some sort of balance, a kind of limbo, which was both comfortable and numbing.

There was nothing remarkable about this day. Just like every other day, it was still quite dark outside as I rolled Mom’s bamboo mat across the wooden plank floor. I planted my bare feet and raised my arms above my head. I used her mat, so I could still feel connected to her.

With my deep inhalation, I smelled the damp tropical earth slowly warming with the promise of the rising sun. Gray and pink tendrils were streaking their way into the eastern sky. It was another warm, balmy day to end the week.

Forty-five minutes later, I was sitting in lotus pose, dripping sweat, as I willed my inner self to be still. I started to descend into my own self. I kept the time with the steady strong beats of my heart. I had fifteen minutes to find my inner strength and start the day focused and devoted to my goals.

Just one more day, and then I can give all my time to Mom. I’ll make us all brunch tomorrow, and we’ll hang out on her balcony, smoking Jimi’s Northern Lights. We’ll spend the weekend laughing and having a blast. Maybe if she’s feeling up to it, we can take a drive to the lake, and she can float around on her sunbathing raft.

Go deeper. You’re still thinking too much
,
I told myself.

Sinking further, I reached that dark yet warm place where it was fluid and safe. I could well imagine this was what it was like to be conscious within my mother’s womb. The sound of my blood rushed through my ears, the
thump-swish
of a greater, more powerful heart.

“Hey, Baby Girl.”

I heard
his
voice.

Oh, wow.

I had only been so deep in a meditative state twice before. The first time had been when I was sixteen, and Mom was in the hospital. I’d thought I had gone into a trance of some kind since I had been listening to NOLA’s Junk’s demo nonstop. Then, it’d happened again after Jaime and I had broken up, and I had felt a bit sore in my heart. Both times,
he
had called me Baby Girl, long before he had called me that on my eighteenth birthday.

How did I not realize that before? Fucking strange.

When I was there in that place within myself, I was almost happy. I could feel
him
here with me, and his presence gave me strength to confront the challenges I faced.
That
voice sounded like the greatest of loves. It was just wonderful to hear. It made me never want to leave.

“You need to stay strong, Baby Girl. You need to hold yourself together. You’ve taken on so much durin’ a very stressful time. I’m here with you, within you always. Just listen for me, and I will hold you up. I’ll keep you close. I’ll be with you before you know it.”

Ascending after hearing him was difficult. I opened my eyes and struggled not to sink back into myself. I rose, silently rolling up the mat and placing it next to the door. After heading inside, I showered and got dressed just like I did every day, Monday through Friday.

Unlike every other day though, I smelled the organic hazelnut coffee that I loved as I headed back down the stairs. It was so expensive that I usually only made it on special occasions. Mama Sally, Alys’s mom, had given it to me for my birthday.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, looking exhausted
.
Her face and hands seemed more swollen than usual, but her eyes held a sparkle of happiness when she saw me. I couldn’t help but give her a smile in return.

Lately, I’d been going to any lengths to show her how much I loved her, and giving her these smiles made her stronger. At least, that was what I hoped.

“Heading to class?” she asked.

“Yeah. But it’s Friday, so I’ll be home early today. Around two.”

“Okay. I made you and Lili coffee.”

“I can smell that,” I said with a trace of humor. “You feeling all right, Mom?”

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