I couldn’t stop crying.
The only reason I left my mother’s bedside was because I was made to. Worries that something would happen to her (while I couldn’t be there), motivated my stay. I wanted her to wake up. I wanted her to become coherent just one more time, so I could tell her all the things I hadn’t before—things I wasn’t sure if she ever knew about.
Exhausted, I stepped inside the threshold of my mother’s house. I wanted to take a long, warm bath and get into bed. As I passed the kitchen, I noted the time on the range; it was a quarter past one o’clock in the morning. Maisha’s playful barks emulated from the backyard. Wondering how she got out, I plodded to the boat deck to investigate.
Eric stood on the edge of the dock. A dinner plate covered in foil sat on the banister beside him.
Realizing I’d broke my dinner plans with him without a warning, I cursed under my breath. With my bare soles padding against the wood, I moved to stand next to him. The sound of the water swaying underneath us and Maisha’s bark served as our only noise for a while. He and I continued to gaze out at the water without immediately acknowledging each other.
Maisha’s playful growl called my attention. She ran around in excited circles, barking at me from the yard.
“You left the backdoor open,” he stated through a low exhausted voice. “Took her for a walk because she was going crazy without you.”
“Thank you. I wouldn’t have the energy to—” I hiccuped and clutched my chest as the ache brought about the deep, heavy sobs. He immediately turned to me and warmly took me inside his arms. I wailed and moaned against his shoulder. I wrapped my arms tightly around his low back as the sadness consumed me.
He never moved. He never faltered. He held me for as long as I needed him to without saying a single word.
I slipped back from Eric’s arms as my eyes became dry and irritated. After spending what seemed like hours crying, I had no more tears left to cry. I swallowed back the pain in my sore throat. I kept my eyelids heavy, unable to look at him. I’d never let anyone besides my mother comfort me that way. I didn't know how to react in the aftermath. I felt increasingly awkward. “I-I’m sorry about your…shirt,” I apologized through a hoarse, soft voice as I kept my head bowed.
Quickly, he clutched my hands, intertwining his fingers with mine. I closed my eyes, allowing his touch to make me feel. Through my aching sadness, he successfully erected the feeling I craved.
He pulled my hands toward him until our bodies met. He ducked down and gently kissed my forehead. “Don’t. Ever. Apologize.” He lifted my chin with my hand still clutched in his. He gently kissed me. “Not for that. It’s what I’m here for, Nik.”
I tossed awkwardly as we stood in silence. “I-I need to talk to you about something. I wanted to say something before but—“
He held up a finger with my hand firmly tangled with his, shushing me without saying a word. “I brought you dinner from tonight.” He glanced at the plate on the banister “Had a bad feeling before you didn’t show up. When you didn’t, I knew something happened with your mother.” He let my hands drop as he slipped his hands inside the pockets of his slim fit denim jeans with his thumbs out and shoulders broad. He added quietly, “Now I know that it did.” Slowly, his eyes floated up to mine. “Had it set in my head to do something to make you feel better, even if it was only for thirty minutes. That was until I received a very odd call from Janet, disclosing what you wanted to speak to me about at the dinner.”
Unable to hold his eye contact, I contemplated Maisha in the yard. “It’s what she wanted. Right now…it’s what she needs.”
His steely gaze pressed at me while he brought his lips together in a firm line. “Can you look me in the eye and request something like that’s really what she wanted? Can you really do that, Nikki?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s tired of suffering. Because watching her suffer, I want whatever she wants. The surgeries, the biopsies, the chemo, and the radiation. All the things she went through that never worked. All the things I stood by her side for days on end and watched her endure. She just wanted to live her life, and now she can’t. She’s fading away and in so much pain. So…much pain—” I touched my quivering lip, fighting the urge to cry again. “It’s not fair to leave her this way. I can’t leave her this way. I would do anything for her, anything to stop her suffering.”
“Follow my directions, Nikki,” he demanded in a low intimidating tone as he stepped forward. “And be very specific about what you want me to do.”
“I-I n-need your…your help,” I stuttered in a childlike manner. “Physician-assisted suicide…to put my mother at peace.”
He took a long exhaustive sigh as his head dropped. He ran his hands through his hair, roughing it up.
“Janet...sort of inferred you did it before…with—”
Coldly, his eyes settled on me. “I think I should leave.”
I shook my head as I felt the cusp of the crushing defeat. “I knew you were the wrong person to ask.”
“You’re damn right I am. What did you think? I’d put everything in jeopardy? For what?”
“You want an exchange, then? What do you want? I-I have money. I told you…I would do anything.”
He stood strong, unmoved.
“If you did it before with your uncle, what’s so different about my mother?”
“First, I need you to stop saying that out loud,” he gritted through his teeth.
“How much do you want? Eric, please. I don’t know who else to ask.”
He blew a long stream of air from the side of his mouth as he regarded the sky. “Answer this, Nikki. What happens to you when she dies?”
The question startled me. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Can you tell me why you’ve attempted suicide three times?”
The information he knew, left me completely unsettled. “I’m pretty sure the way in which you obtained that information was illegal. I don’t understand how it has anything to do—”
“Answer the question,” he bellowed.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know when you damn well do.”
“If I really wanted to be dead, I would be.”
“Are you admitting the attempts were cries for help?”
“What do you want from me? My life story?”
“If you want me to do this for you, I want something in return. I need something in return.”
“How much do you need?”
He stood tall with his chin titled down and contemplated me through his thick, curly eyelashes. “I want…you, Nikki.”
“I-I’m your payment?” I choked.
“I hate the way you said that.” He rolled his shoulders up and dropped them down. “I just want...to make sure you’re going to be okay. To make sure you have someone.”
I shook my head, completely aghast. “You’re trying to make it look pretty. Don’t. This is about sex. Why pretty it up, when it’s all you really want?”
“I can’t lie about it. I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you and ruin you for anyone else. Obviously, it isn’t all that I want. Else, I would’ve fucked you the moment those thighs parted. I wanted it. I really wanted it. I want to do it every single time you beg for me with your eyes…your mouth. But, no, I want more. I need more. I want to be the one—the only one in your life. I want you need to me. I want you to pine for me. I want to own every single part of you. I want your mind, body, and heart to be exclusively and implicitly mine.”
I swallowed…hard, nearly choking on the thick cotton that formed in my throat.
“Can you give me what I want?”
“C-can we be clear about what it is you want from me in exchange for what I want you to do?”
“I thought I was. What else do you need me to be clear about?”
“Is there a limit to this period of—whatever it is you want to do with me?”
�
��If you want to put it in a simple, nasty little box, I want to own you. The time limit?” He shrugged. “When I say it’s done, it’s done.”
“When will that be?”
“Few months from now…maybe never. I don’t know, Nik. It’s up to me, not you.”
“What you’re asking of me is very unorthodox.”
“As is what you’re asking me to do. If I’m going to put my livelihood on the line…I think I’m well within my rights to ask for this. You said you would do anything. This is my hardline offer.”
“And you make up all the rules?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all. But the person I loved most in this world was suffering, and I would’ve done anything. She asked me to do this. She wanted me to do this. Somehow, she set this man in my path for a reason. Not sure how, why, or the when of it yet. I couldn’t think of the questions, when I needed to answer a more pressing question. “O-okay,” I whispered.
Eric looked taken aback for a moment. He suddenly readopted his signature cocksure demeanor and stood straight with his shoulders strong. “Say that everything I want from you is mine for the taking, and it all begins the moment I say when.”
“As long as it doesn’t involve unlimited access to my money, or my mother’s money…okay.”
He clasped my face in both of his hands. “Say it, Nikki.”
“You can have everything you want from me. No questions asked.”
He closed his eyes for a moment with a relaxed sigh. He took a step back and glanced over his shoulder towards his house. “Four-seventeen a.m. tomorrow. Not a minute before, or a minute after.”
I said yes to a man who could’ve been borderline psychotic….or worse. Yes, I would’ve done anything for my mother—even if it meant my life was forfeit. Even if it meant I was indenturing myself to a man I hardly knew. Her peace was worth whatever would happen to me. Because if I was honest with myself, if Eric hadn’t offered me his sordid proposal, I would’ve eventually returned to the box of razor blades to cure my ails. I didn’t know how far I would’ve taken the blade. If I skipped a few days of my pills, the outcome could’ve been very unpredictable.
I stretched out in the uncomfortable hospital chair. I looked at my mother, who looked like someone other than the mother in my childhood memories. I felt anxious and nervous as I watched the analog clock above the door.
At exactly 4:17 a.m., Eric walked through the door, closing it behind him. He wasn’t in scrubs or a white jacket. He was wearing black sweats and looked poised for a run.
It was time. “Are you ready?” he asked gently. I responded with a nod. Reaching inside his pocket, he pulled out a black vinyl glove. He opened the drawer of her bedside table and pulled something from it. The sound of tape being peeled away echoed loudly through the room. The scene put me off.
With the syringe in hand, he walked to the foot of the bed and placed it on top of her blankets. “You have fifteen minutes before a nurse comes in.”
I forgot my questions and grabbed a vinyl glove from the receptacle on the wall. I moved to his side and clutched the syringe. “W-will it h-hurt her?”
He shook his head as he untucked the blankets from her feet. He removed her footies, spread her toes, and pointed to a strategic area between them. He glanced at my trembling hand. “Can you do this, Nikki?”
“What if I can’t do it? Will you? Maybe I was hoping you would do it,” my voice quavered as the tears streamed down my face.
He solemnly directed my hand to clutch the needle, positioning it to a specific position.
“E-Eric,” I sobbed, “I can’t. I don’t think I—”
“Look at me, Nikki.” My eyes hesitantly floated up to his face. “Remember what she wanted—the hell this disease has put her through. Remember what she asked you to do.”
Staring into his eyes, I slowly pushed my thumb down, injecting the fluid in-between her toes.
“It will take quickly. Say your goodbyes now.”
When the door closed behind him, I quickly withdrew the needle and dropped it inside my messenger bag. I fixed her footies and rearranged the blankets. Standing at her side, I clutched her hand. “Mom? I did what you wanted. You can let go. I’ll try to be okay…for you. I know—you did the best you could to give me the life you never had. You never made me feel like I missed out on anything. I never forgot the day you were willing to sacrifice everything for me. It was the day I let go of the anger over being abandoned. It was the day you became my mom. I love you.” I laid my head on her chest and listened to her faint heartbeat. It vibrated as a barely audible mummer, slowing its pace until it stopped. With the last beat of heart, she took what little strength I had left.
The machines began to beep, calling a team of nurses to rush in. Janet came in last and immediately stopped them, reminding the team that my mother was DNR.
Her hand went cold. Her chest ceased its rise and fall.
She was gone.
The pit in my stomach became a sinkhole. It hit me hard.
My mother was gone. I had no one. I didn’t have her. I didn’t have the one person who understood me and was at my side through everything. The one who saw my darkness firsthand, looked at me, and said, “It’s okay. Don’t worry. Your mother will handle this.”
Drawn to my bed, I went there and stayed there, ignoring Maisha’s pleas to take her out. I couldn’t sleep, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I couldn’t fight the notion to be with her. I couldn’t be in this world all alone without her. I felt horrible for leaving her when she finally let it be known that she always loved me. I never should’ve run away to Washington State. I ached for the overprotective mother I gained shortly after I became seventeen. She didn’t know it, but she was the reason I kept going when I didn’t want to.
“Nik, it’s me,” Eric whispered through the dark. “Your door was left open.”
Without moving, I looked at the time on my night table. It was nearly five o’clock in the morning. I contemplated Eric as he stood in the doorway to my bedroom. I nodded to him and slid across my queen bed to give him space. He slipped out of his shoes and crawled on the bed. He lay beside me and pushed his forearm across my torso, pulling me closer. With his firm body pressed against my back, he leaned in my ear. “Do you feel that, Nik? You’re not alone. You have me.”
I didn’t know any of the people at my mother’s funeral. I just knew that none of them were family. I remembered the things she said about her friends and coworkers. She lamented that they supported her when she was well, but couldn’t be at her side when she was ill. She said that if they couldn’t see her near to her death, they didn’t deserve to see her after.
I was offered many condolences during the service. Eventually, I tuned everyone out. I felt more isolated than ever as I sat alone inside the cathedral. I’d never been bothered by it—or I thought I was never bothered by it. I thought I didn’t want to deal with people, but in reality, my mother was my social outlet. The realization came a little too late.
The people around me whispered amongst themselves and looked at me with pity. I heard a few of them reference my father, and state the obvious; I had no one.
I didn’t need the reminder. Knowing what to expect, I took two lithium capsules before I came to her funeral; I couldn’t endure it any other way.
I looked at the closed casket, recalling what she looked like at the funeral home. Thinking of her vanity, I knew she would’ve been highly unsatisfied with the way her dress was tailored. With the inability to take her measurements, her tailor could only do so much. At five-nine, she barely weighed a hundred pounds.
I dug my heels into the grass as the pastor spoke for far too long. It was hypocritical, being that my mother never spent a day of her life inside a church after her mother died. She was to be buried next to her mother; a grandmother who died before I was old enough to remember her.
We were protected from the torrential downpour by a waterproof tent, but it
didn’t prevent the ground underneath our feet from turning soft. The rain nearly drowned out the pastor’s words of comfort. It didn’t matter if I could hear him, there was no comfort to be had.
I looked around at the people surrounding the gravesite. Everyone seemed to have someone at their side to pull them through. I bowed my head as I began to feel the anxiety.
A strong, steady hand slipped into my grip. Eric stood beside me in a black on black suit. Through my dark shades, I looked up at the rush of sudden support. Thankful. Although I couldn't express it, with the way he looked down at me, I think he knew.
I forgot the world around us and remembered the ache. I turned to him, sinking into him as I wrapped my arms around his waist. He held me tightly and kissed the top of my head, giving me what I needed in the moment.
The sight of the food at the repass made me sick to my stomach. It was held at my mother’s favorite place for wooing her clients. The owner allowed the use of his restaurant as the venue gratis. There were so many people inside the restaurant, I could barely breathe.
The countless financial advisement books. The news show circuit for consulting gigs. The sheer magnitude of all my mother accomplished in her career never hit me more than when I looked around at the number of people who supported her when she was well. It was a side to her life I’d never been exposed to. In the thick of her sickness, she bemoaned her success. She said it took her away from raising me. At one point, she claimed it took her away from her husband. She told me that if she could do it all again, she would’ve taken more pleasure in being a mother and a wife.
The Sordid Promise Page 8
