Page 111 of The Lone Wolf Café
She continued her agonizing sobs, her tears leaving damp marks on the sleeve of my dress.
No…
I don’t understand…
My unsteady fingers, shaking from both the cold of the night air and the shock of the situation, gently curled around the sobbing woman’s back.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until my tears hit the dirt at our feet.
This isn’t real.
This isn’t happening.
This can’t be happening.
But it was.
My mother was alive.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Thirty minutes later, I was still battered, bruised, and incredibly sore. But I was grateful to be sitting in my high-backed chair at the café, instead of on a ferry back to Hollenboro.
I was grateful just to be alive.
I had fainted shortly after reuniting with my mother, and she, Rowena, and Adrian scooped me up and rushed me back to the café. Once I regained consciousness, even more nauseous and sore than before, Rowena and Adrian got to work tending to my wounds. Rowena concluded that my ribs weren’t broken, just badly bruised, and made a strange-smelling poultice meant to help with inflammation. She bound my ribs in a more permanent brace, and both she and Adrian alternated pouring a variety of teas and tonics down my throat, in an attempt to both combat my nausea and heal any internal injuries.
Once Rowena and Adrian were satisfied I was fully patched up and wouldn’t faint again, Rowena offered to make me some coffee. I sighed with relief once the familiar nutty smell filled the air, and I sank further into my high-backed chair, adjusting my rib brace as Rowena lit a match next to the fireplace.
My mother had been silent the entire time. She sat at one of the little round tables, in a creaky old chair that she’d turned around to face the fireplace. She glanced in my direction every once in a while, but she mostly stared vapidly off into the distance.
I recognized that empty-eyed gaze. I knew that while her body was here in the café, her mind was long gone; likely replaying through all the events in her life that had led up to this point.
Just like mine was.
Now that my injuries were tended to and I was no longer semi-conscious, an uncomfortable mixture of emotions bubbledin my stomach. There were dozens of them, all twisting and writhing and conflicting with each other, and I feared I’d be sick all over again. I had so many questions, so many things I didn’t understand, and I needed answers.
What I needed was to talk to my mother. My brain felt like it was about to boil over, like a teapot left on the stove for too long.
Adrian brought me my coffee. I accepted it graciously, letting the mug sit in my hands for a few minutes before I took a sip. They were still sore and numb from the cold.
“So… that’s really your mother?” Adrian whispered, faintly gesturing in the quiet redheaded woman’s direction.
“Oh. Uh, yeah, she is.”
“Wow. Small world, huh?”
I was silent. Rowena forced a faint chuckle for Adrian’s sake.
He cringed and chewed his bottom lip. “Sorry. Bad time for jokes. Anyway, I’ll see myself out. I hope you two have a good night.”
Adrian walked toward the door, his boots clicking on the old, creaky hardwood, but he turned back around as soon as his palm was on the handle.
“Nettie, Rowena…” He sighed. “What you did tonight…I can’t thank you enough. This whole town can’t thank you enough. I hope you both know that.”
“We do,” Rowena smiled and nodded. “It’s just… been a long night. The three of us have a lot to discuss.”
“Of course. I’ll see you two in the morning. I’m sure the mayor will want to stop by and talk with you both.”
