Never Forgotten

by Kelly Risser

  The next day, I found Mom in the yard, facing the sea. She wore her pink robe over jeans and a sweater. She had gotten so thin that she was constantly cold. It wasn’t unusual to find her dressed in layers, while the rest of us wore only t-shirts. I approached her slowly, not wanting to surprise her. She turned as I neared her chair and motioned for me to sit on the end. I leaned over and hugged her, kissing her cheek. Her skin felt soft, her body frail.

  I knew I looked tense. I couldn’t seem to put on pretenses any longer. I was so worried about her that I bordered on being physically sick. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

  I’m okay,” she said. I rarely heard, I’m well or I’m good anymore. I suppose okay was a neutral word, but it didn’t tell me how she was really feeling. As always, she changed the subject. “How are you, Meara? How are things with Evan?”

  “Everything’s fine,” I said. “I told him about David.”

  She watched my face closely. “What did you say?”

  “I just told him how I dreamed about David. Or, I thought they were dreams. The last time, he was there.”

  “What?” Mom sat upright and stared at me. “When? You didn’t tell me about this.”

  Her reaction surprised me. She almost seemed scared. “It was the night I stayed over at Katie’s house.”

  “What did your father say?”

  “Not much.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Mom, he told me that he wasn’t human.”

  At first, Mom seemed like she was about to say something. Then the look passed. She bent her head and took a sip of her coffee, not meeting my eyes.

  “Mom?” I said. “Do you know why he might say that?”

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. “That’s an odd thing to say.” There was something my mom wasn’t telling me. I could always tell when she was holding something back.

  “I asked him why he left us,” I said, watching her closely. As I suspected, there was something there. She was trying hard to remain neutral. It wasn’t working. “He said he couldn’t see us, not that he wouldn’t see us. He also said that he hadn’t expected you to take me inland.”

  I paused and then added, “Does that mean anything to you?”

  She fluttered her hands near the opening of her robe, clearly struggling. A light pink flush spread up her neck and across her cheeks. I waited. She didn’t say anything.

  “Mom?”

  Her eyes glittered with tears, and she took a deep breath. “Oh, Meara, I’m so sorry!” she cried. “When you’re father left, I was heartbroken. I couldn’t take the chance that he would try to take you from me too. So, when the opportunity came, I took you and moved to the States.”

  “Why would he take me away?”

  “I didn’t know if he would. I didn’t know if it was something he could control…” She trailed off, staring out at the sea.

  “I don’t understand.” This wasn’t making any sense. If my parents loved each other, why would my dad take me away? “You took me to Wisconsin to keep me from my father?”

  She looked at me with remorse. “I never wanted to keep you from your father. I had no way of knowing whether he would come back or not. And, I…”

  I interrupted her. It was rude, but I wanted answers. “Why wouldn’t he come back for us? Why is everything such a mystery?”

  She paused and stared in her cup, purposefully avoiding my eyes. “Your father has secrets,” she said in barely a whisper.

  “What are they?” I demanded.

  She shook her head. “You have to ask him, Meara. They’re not mine to tell.”

  Frustrated, I stood and began to pace. “I’ve tried. He won’t tell me.”

  She leaned back and looked at me then. “Well, then the timing’s not right.”

  “You sound like him!”

  She shrugged. Her face was once again neutral.

  “You won’t tell me.” It was a statement, not a question. My voice quivered as I tried to control my anger.

  Mom held her ground. “No, not about this.”

  “Fine!” I said. I turned to stalk back to the house. I heard my mom call my name, quiet at first, and then more insistent. I paused, not looking back. “Yes?”

  “I know it’s hard, Meara. Please have some patience. I’m sure your father has his reasons for not telling you. When the time is right, you’ll know.”

  I went inside. I didn’t feel her request warranted a response.