Page 13 of Everlasting Love

“Why would she do that? It’s not like you give a shit about her,” Dad calls out from his chair. I guess I deserve that. It’s not like I’m around all that much.

She waves me off, dismissing my concern, and busies herself with the flowers, placing them in the vase and then finishing off the display by tying the ribbon around the glass. “These are stunning, Shane. Thank you so much.” She places them in the middle of the table, then pulls out a chair for me like she didn’t just tilt my world on its axis. What if it had been worse? Would they have called me then? “Come. Sit. I’ll make us a coffee and we can catch up.”

“I can do it since you’re hurt.” It’s the least I can do since I’m such a shitty son.

She grabs my arm and tugs me toward the chair. “I’m fine. Let me spoil you.” I reluctantly sit, and while the coffee machine does its thing, she places the birthday cake on the table right in front of me.

My immediate thought is that I don’t deserve her attention and care. Her kindness. Her love.

She places our coffee on the table and sits beside me, dropping her hand over the top of mine and squeezing. “I’m so happy you came.” I swallow past my guilt. She doesn’t deserve my absence but I can’t stand to be in the same place as Dad. “Tell me how you’ve been.” She tucks her chin-length hair behind her ear.

I look at Mom. For the first time since I arrived, I take a moment to study her face closely. She looks tired. Really tired. The lines etched across her forehead are deeper than the last time I saw her, and there’s more gray in her dark hair. “How about you tell me howyou’vebeen?”

“Oh, you know, nothing much changes around here.” Her eyes slide toward the lounge room as if she can see Dad in his recliner through the walls. “But the young couple next door had a baby”—she scrunches her eyebrows together as she thinks—“must be about six months ago now.” A smile touches her lips. “Penny. Such an adorable little girl. So happy and calm. Reminds me a lot of you when you were that age.” She clutches her shirt as she remembers, and her lips tip up slightly. “You were such a good baby.”

We spend the next thirty minutes drinking our coffee while she tells me all about her neighbors and how she takes them a cooked dinner a couple of nights a week so they get a break. “I remember what it was like when you were a baby. Some days didn’t go to plan, and I was so tired in the early days. A home-cooked meal prepared by someone else would have been a godsend. And Myles works some Saturday evenings, so I keep Rory company if she doesn’t have plans.”

“Fiona. Bring me a beer,” Dad calls from the other room.

Mom rises immediately to do his bidding, a flush coating her cheeks. As she passes across the threshold into the lounge room with his beer, she asks, “Why don’t you join us, William? We can sing to Shane and cut the cake.”

“He’s not a boy anymore, Fiona. He doesn’t need a damn birthday cake, and he certainly doesn’t need us singing to him like he’s a damn child,” he snaps at her.

When she steps back into the kitchen, her cheeks are even more flushed and she doesn’t make eye contact with me as she collects the matches and a knife. She takes the seat beside me and lights the candles, then smiles at me. “Are you ready for my terrible, off-key singing?” she asks, as though Dad didn’t just belittle her.

“You don’t have to sing, Mom. Dad’s right. I’m not a child anymore.”

She covers my hand with hers. “I want to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to my son. Today is as much about you as it is about me, you know. Don’t deny me my celebration.” I don’t miss thepleasethat she leaves unsaid as she looks at me pleadingly.

I nod and force a smile to my lips. “I’m ready.”

Her smile is instant, and happiness bleeds through her face quickly, lighting her eyes. She draws in a long breath and then sings ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, her eyes never leaving my face. I chuckle at the enthusiasm she puts into the rendition, and when she’s finished I lean forward to blow out the candles but she stops me with her hand on mine before I can let out a breath. “Remember to make a wish.” Her eyes trace my face, and I nod slowly, then take my time to think of a wish.

What I really want to wish for isn’t a possibility.

If I could have one wish.

One single wish.

It would be that Wyatt was never blown up and he was here to watch his son grow up and love his wife because I know damn well that if he’d returned, he’d appreciate his family not ignore them. My thoughts turn dark, and I get lost in my guilt that I’m sitting herecelebratingmy birthday when Wyatt no longer has birthdays to celebrate.

Mom squeezes my hand, bringing me back to the present. My second wish would be for her to finally leave my father. She deserves so much better than him. She deserves to be loved and honored by a man. Not ignored and treated like a maid.

But then I do the same to her, don’t I? I don’t treat her like a maid, but I ignore her.

I push her away.

I’ve put a wedge between us. I’ve been doing it for years.

I don’t come to visit her, allowinghimto keep me away, which only punishes her; not him. Anger and self-hate ooze into every cell in my body as I realize what I’ve been doing by staying away. It started when I was a teenager because I hated my father. I would spend as much time as possible with Toby at his house, just so I didn’t have to deal with Dad, but it grew into something out of my control since I returned from service. It became less about hating Dad and more about not feeling worthy of Mom’s love and affection. Or her pride. She was …isso damn proud of me. Because she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what happened to my friend, and she doesn’t know what happened to me. I’ve never told her. I’ve never told anyone. Not even my best friend.

I turn to the woman who’s only ever loved me. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She narrows her eyes at me, the lines across her forehead deepening. “What on earth for?”

“For being such a shitty son.”

She bats at my arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the furthest thing from a terrible son.” Then she pauses and studies my face closely. “Where’s all this coming from, Shane?”

---