Page 197 of Rhet

“Not a what, more like a who.” She states.

I didn’t want to have this conversation at least not today. I pour myself a glass of grey goose.

“Have you talked her? She is having my grandbaby you know,” My mom says. The her meaning Zeeta.

“She says she doesn’t want to see me and I don’t see the need to see her,” I reply, as I turn my back on her, look out at the city and I see the beautiful lights of Lakeshore.

“You don’t see a need. You have lost weight, you spend all your days in the office. You have literally cut the world off.” She places the letter opener back on the table.

“Ma.” I plead

“She is about to be the mother of your child.” my mother mutters. Even without saying her name, a part of me longs for her. To see her laugh, to hold her.

“You need to learn to let things go,” my mother comes to the side of me.

I sigh “What does that mean?”

She rubs my back “Because I let your dad go. The moment that priest prayed over your father’s coffin, I let him go.”

I look at my mom seeing her as a woman for the first time in my life. She looks serene, and untroubled.

“I don’t know how,” I confess.

“My baby boy always wants to defend and fix things. Let Trent go and everything else will fall into place.”

Her words made me irritable “You want me to forget Trent?”

“Trent is dead. You’re alive. We have to live with that.” She says simply.

“You think I don’t know that. What does that even mean Ma” I reply I take a sip of my drink.

“It’s only the truth.” She replies.

“What are you trying to say mom? That you’d rather have Trent than me?” I would understand if that was what she was trying to tell me.

She stares at me in shock, raises from the chair and walks towards me.

“You are so wrong my son.” She says.

“I failed is that what you want me to say? What do you want from me?” I feel hurt and angry. I shake my head in disbelief.

She touches my face “I want you to let it go Rhet. All of the sadness, the hate, the fear and the anger, you have to let it go. Only then you can live.”

I feel like she punched me in the stomach “Do you ever wish it was me instead of Trent?”

“I wish Trent was alive some days. However, I never wish it was you instead of Trent.”

She kisses my cheek and holds my face.

“I wish he were still here,” I whisper.

“We all do my son, but life is beautiful because we have death,” I wipe the tears from her face.

She passes her hand over my face “God gave me two great sons. I’m grateful for Trent. I’m happy that God left me you.” She pulls me in for her hug and I wrap my arms around her. Her hair rest right under my nose. It smells of oak and teak.

My shoulders drop as if some weight left them, as she rubs my back in circles. My mom pulls away and wipes her face.

“Well, I have to go. I have a yoga class.” She leaves me standing, picks up her bag and walks to the door.

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