“Well, then, let’s see if I have something for that sore throat of yours,” I teased and she smacked my shoulder but shook her head with a laugh.
I tried to sit up, but she pushed me back down. She resumed her caress over my chest and I relaxed into the pillow.
“There’s something I want to ask you, and I’m afraid you won’t answer.” The hesitancy in her voice was unfamiliar.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“I asked you before but you talked around it.”
My body knew her question even before she even asked it. So, in a way, I was ready for it.
She spoke into my chest, and my skin tingled from her breath. “Why do you help those women?”
Several reasons flickered through my head. All of them were the truth, some more pitiful versions of it than others. I wasn’t sure which one would scare her off, but I went with the shortest one.
“Because I couldn’t save my mother.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Tell me about her.”
My body tensed. I didn’t know what to say because I hadn’t expected her to ask that. I’d expected her to want to know the circumstances, not the woman.
Thinking about my mother was something I rarely did anymore. Instead, I pushed away the memories. I hadn’t intentionally thought about her in years. At least a decade—maybe even a lifetime ago.
“She was funny,” I said softly. Christina’s smile pressed against my chest.
“She had a great laugh. It was contagious. She would make up these strange songs that made no sense, but you couldn’t help but laugh with her because it was all so ridiculous.”
Christina didn’t comment, just listened.
“She took school seriously, though. Always asked if I’d finished my homework and if I paid attention in class. She would pull out my work and quiz me if I had a test the next day.
“And I could never lie to her. I tried when I was small, but she always knew when I was lying, so I stopped. She told me she’d never be angry with me as long as I told her the truth.”
I ran my hand along Christina’s back as my gaze became unfocused.
“She was beautiful.” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “She wasn’t glamorous or anything like that. It was a quiet beauty. She wore a ponytail most of the time and yoga pants, but maybe it was her smile that made her beautiful because she could light up a room with it.”
I thought about the times she didn’t laugh or smile. As I got older, it became more frequent.
“My dad lost his job when I turned twelve. It changed everything.”
Christina stirred beneath my chin. “What happened?” she asked.
“He became angrier every day. Especially when he drank. He felt useless and blamed her for saddling him with a kid when he could have been a professional athlete had he not been forced to get a real job to pay for his new wife and child.
“She always sent me to my room when he started talking like that. But the walls were thin and she couldn’t keep his ugly words away. It wasn’t too long afterward when he started throwing more than just words at her.” A memory of my mother’s scream rang through my head.
Despite Christina’s warm touch, my body went cold, and I shivered.
“I’m so sorry,” she said and kissed the spot on my chest just above my heart. Her lips were like a balm on an old wound.
“I tried to step in, many times, but she would get angry with me and send me away. I wanted to help her ,but I didn’t want her to be angry with me, either. So, I did what I was told. One day, it went too far.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I pressed my thumb and middle finger to my eyes to stop them from falling. “She was gone.”
I couldn’t go on with the rest of the story. The details were too gruesome, and my uselessness too much to relive. Besides, it didn’t matter how it happened, only that it did.
I tried to inhale, but my lungs felt tight, as though my throat was clogged and my body numb.