Page 61 of Mic Drop

“I don’t know how to go on without her.”

“One step at a time. One step,” he repeats.

Kara comes out of the room. “I need to talk with the nurses and take care of the paperwork, then I’m going home.” She takes a step. “No, home is too far away.”

“Why don’t you stay at my house?”

Bennett pulls me tighter to his body.

“Oh, thank you.” I give my sister the keys to my house, and she goes off to deal with the logistics.

I take a deep breath. “I want to go in.”

Bennett nods his head. “All right. Want me to go with you?”

I consider his offer. Do I want this man beside me? “Give me five minutes, then come in, okay?”

“You got it.” He kisses me in a sweet, tender, loving way and I force my feet to move forward. I push on the door and it slams behind me. I’m all alone with Ma.

With what used to be Ma.

I approach her. Where she gave us her last loving praise. Tears prick my eyelids. I don’t bother to stem their fall.

“Ma,” I breathe. “I hope you’re happy where you are. You’re not in any more pain. Maybe you can see into the future now, and see my children. With Bennett. Our little boy and little girl growing up in Aroostook. Or all over the world.”

I’m not making any sense. None of this does. Ma was supposed to be here with us, not her body lying in this bed while her soul floats above us. I want my mother!

“Ma!” I reach out and grab her hand, which is cool to the touch. Irecoil as this factoid slips into my consciousness. “You’re never coming back, are you? You’ll never give me your pep talks about putting Michelle into her place. You’ll never again sing Kara’s praises, or those of her husband and kids.”

I suck in air as realization hits—final and hard—that she’s truly gone. Words fly out of my mouth. “I should have forced you to get other opinions. Someone would’ve done surgery, then you’d still be with me. Bennett talked me out of it, but he was wrong. Wrong! We’d still be laughing and talking and you’d be imparting even more wisdom to me. I listened to him and what has that brought me? You’re gone. Dead. It’s all his fault. How can I go on without you?”

I bow my head, cover my eyes, and sob.

Strong, masculine hands go around my shoulders. Bennett doesn’t say anything, nor does he try to pull me to him. His silent presence, though, is a massive conflict. On one hand, he’s the reason we’re here now—he convinced me not to pursue more doctors and possible other treatments. On the other, he provides comfort. My tears stop freefalling down my cheeks. My sniffles retreat. I walk over to my mother’s body and kiss her cooling cheek. “Fly now. Be free.”

Then I turn, and the tears start all over again. In a second, Bennett’s holding me, rubbing my back, letting me get it all out. He doesn’t try to minimize my pain or backstop it. He merely lets my agony ooze out of me.

I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand. “I need to leave.”

“Right behind you, Sweetheart.”

I put one foot in front of the other, and reach the doorknob. Something tells me to turn, and what I see nearly brings me to my knees. Bennett has gathered Ma into his arms and is rocking her side to side, like a life-size doll. I can’t make out his words, but he kisses her cheek before laying her to rest on the bed once more.

The sight guts me. Then fillets my insides. An all-encompassing need to yell at him for touchingmymother bubbles, seething like a caged animal. She wasmymother, not his.Myresponsibility, not his.How dare he act like he held a piece of her heart—I know the truth that she told me after they first met.

Although she did come around to see him as her son.

And she was so happy at our wedding.

This last piece offers a double-edged balm.

When he turns, I tamp down all the awful emotions roiling through me. A second later, his hand is in mine and we walk out of the hospital room for the final time.

“It’s late,” Bennett notes. “Do you have your car?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me drive us home.” He pauses. “To Secluded Rest.”

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