Deep Surrendering: Episode Nine

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I should get home,” she said after we consumed about half of the cake. I was so full I thought I was going to burst.

  I didn’t want her to leave because then I’d be alone with only my thoughts for company. But I couldn’t ask her to stay. I couldn’t admit how much I didn’t want to be alone. So I told her goodbye, she thanked me for the food, and I sat on my couch with yet another piece of cake.

  I woke the next morning still on the couch. Fortunately I’d set the plate of half-eaten cake on the coffee table or else I might have been wearing it. My entire body was sore, I felt like shit, and I hadn’t even had anything to drink.

  “Fuck,” I said as I got to my feet. That was the last time I spent the night on the couch. That thing was not made to sleep on.

  I headed to the shower and turned on the water as hot as it would go, hoping it would help me feel human again. I had the interviews with the nurses today, so I was missing my afternoon classes. I’d emailed my professors a sob story, and they’d been completely fine with it. That was the upside of being a good student. When you needed to get out of class, they were more than happy to let you.

  I ate cake for breakfast and checked my phone. Nothing from Fin. I wished I could at least get a text message from him. Just something, anything, to let me know how he was doing. I hoped he wasn’t upset about the whole Sapphire thing, but he hadn’t seemed upset when I talked with him. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Yeah, I was probably just being paranoid.

  After my morning classes, I caught a cab to take me to my parents’ house. There was traffic getting out of the city, so I was a few minutes late. There was already another car in the driveway. Shit.

  I paid the cabbie as quickly as I could and rushed to the front door. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” I said, heading for the sitting room.

  Dad was there, as was a woman in what looked like a hand-knit sweater over a set of scrubs, and silver hair wrapped into a bun on top of her head. She looked like a kindly grandmother.

  My mother was going to eat her alive.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Glenna,” the nurse said, getting up and shaking my hand. She smelled like rose petals.

  “Nice to meet you, too. I’m Marisol. The daughter.” Everyone laughed nervously.

  “Where’s Mom?” I asked.

  “She’s sleeping. She had a rough night, so I think she’s going to be out most of the day. She sleeps a lot now on her new medication.”

  Medication. I hadn’t thought about that. What could they really give her, though? Pills weren’t going to repair her brain. It was deteriorating, and there was nothing we could do about it but try and keep her comfortable and safe for as long as possible. The thought of that made me want to cry, so I shoved it aside and sat down as Dad handed me a cup of tea.

  “So, your father and I have been talking, and I think we’d all get along real well,” Glenna said with a huge smile. She had really tiny teeth. Like baby teeth. I couldn’t stop staring at them.

  “Good, good. So, um, what exactly will you do?”

  She smiled again, and I stared at her teeth as she talked. It looked like she’d never gotten her adult teeth. I really needed to look somewhere else, so I stared at her bun instead.

  “And I’ll just be here if she needs anything. I have a habit of becoming very close with my patients. I think of them as family since my babies are all grown and having babies of their own and too busy to visit much.”

  Sad. But my mother was still going to eat her alive.

  “And you’ve, um, dealt with difficult patients before?”

  Dad shot me a look. Hey, I had to ask. He probably wasn’t going to.

  Glenna laughed, throwing her head back. “Darling, I’ve had them all. Good, bad, and in between. There isn’t anybody I can’t handle. Trust me on that.” She thought she’d seen it all . . .

  I just smiled and nodded.

  Dad and Glenna started talking about money and then my phone buzzed.

  “I’m sorry, I need to get this,” I said, grabbing it and taking it to the next room. It was just a text message, but it was something.

  Call you tonight? Miss you.

  I almost jumped up and down. Yes!!! Miss you too.

  He didn’t send another message, but that was okay. I was going to talk to Fin tonight! I let out a breath and my chest didn’t feel so tight. Everything was going to be good.

  I went back into the room to find Glenna and Dad laughing about something. That was definitely a good sign.

  “How’s everything going in here?” I asked, and they both looked up. Dad had a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. Wow.

  “Well, I think this is going to work out,” Dad said. Glenna beamed with her bitty teeth.

  “Sounds like it,” I said. “But don’t you want to meet Mom first?”

  “Oh, I think we should wait until she’s bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, don’t you?” Glenna asked, and if I had been drinking my tea at that moment, I probably would have choked on it. Who even said things like that anymore? I almost wished Mom was awake to see the look she would give Glenna.

  “True,” I said, and shared a look with Dad. He seemed nervous at the mention of Mom. He knew. I knew. Glenna didn’t. Yet.

  “So you’ll be here tomorrow?” Dad said.

  “Seven on the dot!” Glenna got up and shook Dad’s hand and then mine.

  “I’m so happy you let me into your home. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Everly.” Dad and I walked Glenna to the door, and she left in her little Subaru.

  “She seems nice,” I said, turning back to Dad.

  “Too nice. I’m not sure how this is going to work out. Your mother can sometimes be . . . difficult.” That was the absolute nicest way to put it. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Yeah, okay, Dad.” I held my arms out and gave him a hug. We weren’t affectionate when I was growing up, but maybe it was time to change that.

  He hugged me back and sighed. “I hope this is going to work out, Marisol.”

  “I know, me too.”

  He let me go and then looked down at me like he was just seeing me for the first time since I walked in. “How are you doing? I’ve been so wrapped up in your mother that I’ve been remiss in my fatherly duties.”

  I laughed again. “Things are good.” Ish. They were good-ish. Getting better.

  “And how is your young man?” I almost forgot Dad knew I was seeing Fin. Great.

  “Um, he’s back overseas. Working. Working hard. We don’t get much time to talk.” Great. I definitely sounded like I was lying.

  Dad studied my face. “You sure things are okay?”

  I nodded. “Uh huh. I’m talking to him tonight.” I gave him a smile for good measure. “Things are good.” Maybe if I said it enough, he might believe me.

  “Good. That’s nice.” He’d drifted off again, probably worrying about Mom.

  “How’s she doing?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “We have good days and not so good days. But in her lucid moments she’s her old self.” He smiled about that.

  “Have you told anyone? What about her meetings and friends and everything?”

  Dad hesitated before he answered. I figured. The last thing Mom would ever want is for people to know about her being sick. Especially not sick like this.

  “Uh, no. It’s not what she wanted. I really . . . I don’t know what to say anymore. I started just saying she was under the weather, and they’d stop and bring soup and flowers, and now I’ve been saying that she’s still recovering, but that will only hold out so long.”

  True. “That’s a tough one, Dad. But I think you need to say something. Otherwise people will keep coming by and bringing soup. Or they’ll start making up their own minds and that’s how rumors spread. Better to tell the truth right out of the gate. You know what kinds of things those women come up with.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I do. And no doubt they’d think she was having an affair or something equally salacious.”
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  Yes, they would. Those women lived to make shit up, or at least spread it around. Whole lot of shit spreaders. And most of them didn’t work, so they had a lot of time on their hands.

  “True story. Well, let me know what you want to do. I’ve only told Chloe, and she knows how to keep her mouth shut.”

  Dad nodded then rubbed his hand across his head. He was slowly going bald. It had been so gradual that I’d barely noticed, but now it was so obvious. He was almost at that point where he should just shave it and be done with the whole thing.

  “Do you need anything else? Maybe I could cook something?” It was getting closer to dinnertime. I hoped Fin would wait until I left my parents’ to call, but I couldn’t really help if he didn’t.

  “That would be wonderful, Marisol. I’ve been letting the maids go early lately. It’s hard to know if they’re keeping what’s going on with your mother to themselves.” Yeah, that was another thing to consider. It was next to impossible to keep a secret anymore.

  “I don’t blame you at all,” I said, and patted him on the shoulder before going to the kitchen. It was well-stocked, thanks to the delivery service that came whenever something was out. I decided on pasta, since it was easy to make a ton of and put in a container to reheat for the next day.

  One of Glenna’s jobs was going to be feeding Mom, and hopefully she’d add Dad in that equation. I worried about him eating enough when he was so distracted and busy with caring for her.

  Of course I’d just dropped the pasta in the water when my phone rang. “Shit,” I said, and answered the call.

  “Hello?” I said, glancing through the doorway to make sure Dad wasn’t going to walk in on me. Not that it would be a big deal, but I still didn’t want to risk it.

  “Hello, Marisol.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I have missed you, Mari Cherry.” I was so relieved to hear from him that I almost wanted to cry.

  “Me too, Fin. Me too. I don’t know what was up with me. Maybe there’s a full moon or something, but I just had this overwhelming need to hear your voice. I’ve been going nuts.” I stirred the pasta and held the phone between my ear and shoulder so I had my hands free.

  “I know, I know. How was your day?”

  I hadn’t told him about Mom’s official diagnosis. I didn’t really want to, but I knew I should.

  “Well, my mom is sick. She’s got Alzheimer’s and dementia. It’s moving pretty fast, and it’s been . . . it’s been rough. I feel so shitty, Fin. For not being there. For being such a pain in the ass. I feel like this is my punishment or something for being a shitty daughter all these years.” I hadn’t said that out loud yet, to anyone.

  “Oh, Marisol.” Fin sighed. “I wish, more than anything in this world, that I could be there with you right now. I’d put my arms around you, and I’d hold you and tell you that you aren’t a shitty daughter. You couldn’t be, even if you tried. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” God, I wished that too. I wished it almost as much as I wished my mother wasn’t sick.

  “But I was, Fin. I really was. You only know my side of things. And for years I wasn’t nice to my parents. Really not nice. My mom just made me so angry my whole life, and I resented her. Still do a little. I’m not this angel of goodness you think I am.”

  The last sentence made him burst out laughing. “It’s not funny, Fin. I’m serious.”

  “I know you are, Mari Cherry. This is another thing we’re going to have to agree to disagree on.” Something else. Great. I wanted us to agree on most things. I didn’t think couples who disagreed on everything were very likely to make it in the long run.

  “I don’t want to talk about me anymore. How are thing going with you?” I couldn’t ask anything specific because I didn’t know anything specific about his plans, or what he was doing, or anything.

  “Things are . . . going. They’re going. And that’s really all I can say about it. I wouldn’t put it past my father to tap my phone.”

  Oh God, I hadn’t even thought of that. I should have thought of that.

  “You’re right. You’re right. But I just wish . . . I feel like I’m blabbing all over you, and I don’t know anything about what you’re doing right now.” It drove me nuts. Why couldn’t we just talk about our days like normal people?

  “I know you do. I wish that too. I wish a lot of things, but that’s near the top of the list,” he said, and I realized the pasta was probably starting to overcook and I needed to drain it. Doing so while balancing the phone was a monumental task, but I accomplished it without spilling anything or dropping my phone in the sink with the hot water.

  “What’s that noise?” Fin asked after I dumped the pasta into the colander in the sink.

  “I’m making dinner for my parents. My dad has been letting the staff go early at nights. I think he’s worried about having people here while Mom is sick and everything. He doesn’t want it to get out. You know how gossip like this could spread.”

  “Oh yes. Bad news goes around like wildfire.” Yes, it did.

  “So, yeah. That’s what’s been going on here. Other than classes and everything that is the same old, same old.”

  “How’s Boston? I sometimes pull up pictures of the city and stare at them and imagine I’m there. I’ve traveled all around the world, and it’s the only place I want to be. But that’s probably because of who is currently in Boston.”

  “I hope that’s me you’re talking about.”

  He laughed. “Yes, sweet girl, it is you.”

  I almost made a joke about Sapphire, but stopped myself. “The city is the same. The food trucks are still out, the summer tourists are still around, and the ducks are still in the park. Oh, and I still miss you. So much.” I knew I said it a lot, but I really did. It was so much worse this time because I didn’t know when he was coming back. Not even a ballpark.

  “Hey, do you have any idea how long this is going to take? I just . . . I don’t need a date, just a general idea. There are a lot of charity events coming up and I’d love for you to be there with me, if you could be.” I couldn’t stop the fantasy of me in a gown and Fin in a tux, sweeping down a staircase together and then waltzing all night, drunk on champagne.

  “I know you want to know. And I wish I could give you an answer. But it’s looking like this is going to be a long game instead of a short one. I have to make absolutely sure I can do this right.” I really had no idea what he was talking about, since he hadn’t told me anything. I just had to trust him, and that was getting harder the longer he was gone and the longer I had to wait with little to no news.

  “Fin,” I said with a sigh. I didn’t know what I wanted to say to him.

  “I know that’s a terrible explanation. I wish I could give you more. I just . . . I wish so many things.”

  So did I. “I feel like I’m in limbo here. I don’t know when you’re coming back, and we barely get to talk, and when we do you don’t say much and it’s just hard, Fin. I’m going through things here and I need you. I just need you.” I didn’t mean for all of that to spill out, but I couldn’t hide the way I felt anymore.

  “I can’t imagine how frustrating this is for you. And I know you’re having a hard time. I can’t tell you that you have to stay with me. I can’t do that to you. I can’t make you stay with me. So . . . If you want out this is your chance. I’m giving you the opportunity to end this. I understand if you want to.”

  Whoa. WHOA. I did not say that. I definitely did not say I wanted to end things.

  “Hold up. What part of I love you do you not understand? I love you, and just because I’m frustrated and missing you doesn’t mean that’s going to go away or just magically turn off. I’m in this for the long haul, however long that may be. Love isn’t bailing at the first sign of difficulty,” I said. The pasta was cold by this point, and I was going to have to reheat it, but this was more important right now.

  “This isn’t the first sign of difficulty, Mariso
l. You’ve already been through a lot. I keep wondering what your breaking point is going to be. You’re so strong, but even you must have a point that makes you draw the line.”

  Yes, I did have that point and we hadn’t crossed it yet. There were several deal breakers for me.

  “Do you want to end this? I don’t want to force you to be with me either. Maybe this would be a lot easier if we took a break. It would be less pressure on you and less pressure on me. Maybe you could get done what you need to get done faster without worrying about me.” The words cut deep as I said them, but they had to be said. I didn’t want to be the only one working and fighting for us to be together if that wasn’t what he wanted anymore.

  “No, no, no. I don’t want to end this. I only wanted you to know if you wanted to, I would be fine with that. Well, not fine, but . . .” Yeah, I wouldn’t be fine either.

  “So what we’re trying to say here is that neither of us wants to end this, but we both agree if the other one does, no hard feelings. I think that’s what we’re getting at,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Agreed. After all the beating around the bush. I don’t want to end this, you don’t want to end this, but we’re both frustrated and needed to let the other one know,” he said.

  I was about to say something else, but my father walked in.

  “How’s dinner coming? Need any help?” I turned around and pointed at the phone and mouthed “it’s Fin.” Dad gave me a thumbs up and backed out of the room to give me privacy.

  “Who was that?” Fin asked.

  “Just my dad. He asked how things were going with us and I told him they were good. Don’t worry, I’m not telling him anything. I haven’t even told Chloe much. Not that I know a whole lot.”

  “You could if you really wanted to. I hate to think that you’re lying to your family. I don’t want to cause even more problems for you,” he said.

  “No, no. It’s fine. I’m not used to talking to my family anyway. It’s no big deal to just . . . not tell them much. Besides, I don’t really want to give my dad too much else to worry about. He’s got enough on his plate.” And then some.