Page 28 of Bound by Destiny
Everyone thought I hated the club and yes, my words spouted off to it a lot. Truth—I hated the time my father spent away from my mom and me for the club. Sometimes he’d be gone for a week or so before coming back home. My mom would tell me that he was on club business and leave it at that.
What no one saw, that I did—was my mother. Each day he was gone, she’d lose herself. Now, don’t get me wrong, my mother was, and is, very strong, determined, and independent. But there were days when he was gone when she would break. It wasn’t all the time, but on the really long trips she would. She would snap at me unintentionally and then apologize for it later. I’d also hear her crying in her room at times. Those were the hardest because there was nothing I could do.
Those were the times that I cut the bullshit and was by my mom’s side helping her with dishes or dinner, trying to get her mind off of my dad being gone. I never really understood it. She always walked with her head held high, bleeding confidence everywhere—but those rare times I saw, made me have a serious distaste for the club.
The kicker was I couldn’t tell a soul about it. Why? Because my mother is a proud woman, and she would never want anyone to think of her as anything but. She wouldn’t want anyone to see her in a weak moment and especially to have that talked about.
Not that I blame her.
But that was what started my dislike for the club in the first place. My father leaving for long periods of time and the effect it had on my mom. Simple—yet so damn complex at the same time.
Emery though, she was always there, by my side whenever I tried to push her away; she never gave up on me. She’s been the one person in my life that has never given up on me, no matter how big of a shit I was. I knew I could count on her. Always.
I’ve fucked up so many things and righting them is going to be hard, but I’m never opposed to hard work.
Pulling out notes, I smile when this one saysLove, Emery. It’s how she signed everything she left me.
Micah,
Why won’t you play with me when we’re upstairs at the clubhouse?
When we are in the basement, you are awesome, but when you come up—you’re different. I like the basement Micah better.
Can you bring him out more?
Love,
Emery
I’d wanted to,but couldn’t let go of seeing my mother in pain. It twisted me up for more years than I can count, but it’s time to let it all go. Wash it from my soul and live.
“What’s goin’ on?” my mother says behind me as I turn my head toward her.
“Lookin’ through some old stuff.”
She comes and sits next to me on the floor then pulls another picture out of the box. It’s Emery swinging on the swing and me pushing her from behind. It was a rare moment, and we were only like five or so. Her face lit up every time I pushed her harder and harder. Memories, good ones make me smile.
“She was so in love with you, Micah.” Mom shakes her head. “She’d follow you to the end of the earth and back if you would’ve let her.”
“But I didn’t.”
“And you’re upset with yourself because of that.”
How she knows these things, I’ll never get. Maybe mother’s intuition or maybe she’s just plain old smart.
“Yeah. I’m not feelin’ good about a lot of things lately.”
Her hand comes to my shoulder. “Micah, talk to me. Just you and me. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
Blowing out a breath, I pick out some more of the pictures. Some with me paying attention, others with me not. Each one a memory of my childhood, one that I wish I could go back and talk to my mother about. May as well get it out now.
“You didn’t like Dad gone so much.”
Mom jolts like what I’m saying is out in left field, then clears her throat. “I was fine with it.”
Raising my brow, she shakes her head. “Okay, there were times it was hard, but it was hard raising you and with him gone a lot was put on my shoulders.”
“But you never talked to him about it.”
