Garrett
My mom is sleeping in a chair next to Paul’s bed when I deliver her dinner. It’s almost nine, and since Mia was still sleeping, I figured it would be safe to step out for a little bit, just to check on things at the hospital.
“Hey, Mom.” I gently nudge her shoulder after setting down the sub sandwich I picked up at the deli for her. She stirs awake and glances at Paul in a panic, but he’s still sleeping soundly.
“He’s fine. I just brought you something to eat.”
“Oh…thanks, sweetie. How’s Mia?”
“She’s good. Napping at my place. What did the doctor say?”
“Oh, he’s recovering well. They want to keep an eye on him for another day, so it doesn’t look like he’ll be going home tomorrow.”
“Oh, damn. I’m sorry,” I reply. I sit in the empty chair near the foot of his bed. She pats my leg as I do.
“It’s okay. At least he’s okay. Have to look on the bright side.”
“Yeah…” I didn’t really intend to stick around long. I’m eager to get back to Mia, but I also can’t leave my mom here. “Mom, do you want to go home and get some sleep or a shower or something? I can stay with him.”
“No. I’m fine,” she replies with dark circles under her eyes. Then her gaze lands on my face, and I can tell she’s about to say something serious. I tense up with anticipation. “Mia was so upset. So scared.”
“I know.”
“And she called you. Before I even thought to call you, she did.”
“I’m glad I was nearby,” I reply, waiting for her to get to the point.
“I know Mia’s been seeing someone. Ever since we got back from the lake, she’s been gone almost every night. Giggling like a schoolgirl. Always on her phone.”
I wait in silence, watching her face as she speaks, quietly enough not to wake Paul. And I have to force myself to breathe.
What am I going to say if she asks? The shame and guilt for what I’ve done with Mia suddenly come crashing to the forefront of my mind. This is their little Mia, the girl my own mother adopted as her own. The golden child. The innocent, sweet daughter who I’ve recently defiled in numerous ways in the past two weeks.
I know I said they would get used to the idea of us together, but what if they don’t? Not that I could blame them. I’m the club-owning bachelor and party animal who’s thirteen years older than her, and that’s not even accounting for my other issues.
My mother reaches out and touches my hand, quieting the manic voices in my head.
“I wouldn’t have guessed in a hundred years it was you, Garrett.” And there it is. Like a lightning strike, it hits with pinpoint precision, changing everything. There’s no point denying it now. When moms know, they just know.
“Mom—’
“Once I saw it, I felt like such a fool for not noticing sooner. I don’t think she even tried to hide it. I realized how natural you two look together.”
“Jesus,” I mutter as I drop my face into my hands.
“Oh relax,” she replies. “It’s not like she’s your actual sister. And you were already twenty-one by the time you met, so it’s not like you grew up with her around. I just thought…you didn’t like her.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to have this conversation,” I reply, not looking up from the floor.
“Well, you better get ready because I’m not going to lie for you. If Paul sees what I saw today, he’s going to know too.”
I glance up at him to see him still snoring peacefully. I feel like I’ve betrayed his trust somehow.
“Mia is so loyal, Garrett. To a fault. And she’s stubborn. I know she will stick by your side through anything, but I just need you to think carefully about this before you embark on something that could break this family.”
My head falls, staring at my clasped hands as her words settle in.
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Then, don’t. Be honest and up-front with her. But if you lead her on or lie to her, that will be on you. And she will never forgive you for it.” There’s that lightning strike again, this time getting me right where it hurts.
“Why do you assume I’ll hurt her? Do you have so little faith in me?”
“I know you, Garrett. I know you have your own battles and demons, and I’m telling you not to hide those things from her because she will weather any storm with you, but if you keep it hidden and deceive her, you will lose her.”
It’s quiet as I run my fingers through my hair, remembering the conversation we had before I left. How good it felt with her in my arms this morning.
I gaze up into her eyes. “You’re not mad?”
“I’m not her father.” Her eyes skate over to the man sleeping between us. “If I were you, I’d come forward before he finds out like I did. He won’t like that.”
“We will,” I reply with a nod.
“Is it serious?” she asks, and I don’t answer right away. There’s very little I take seriously, and I honestly never thought Mia would be one of them.
“Yeah, I think it is.”
She inhales and lets it out in a big sigh. “It’ll take some getting used to. It is a little weird. But you two could be really good for each other. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone, the way you were with her today. She brings out something in you.”
“Like what?” I ask, glancing up into my mother’s eyes. There’s a slight tremor in my voice, smothered emotion threatening to leak out.
She swallows and stares at me as she answers, “Peace.”
Peace? That’s what my mother saw today while Mia sobbed hysterically into my chest and I was a sweaty, red, heaving mess.
Before I can even ask her to elaborate, she continues, “Sometimes I think I failed you, Garrett.”
My eyes dance up to her face in surprise. Like mothers often do, the emotion isn’t stifled, but pools at the surface, spilling into her words and tears.
“Because I never understood you. I couldn’t help you. I just wanted to love you and give you all of my attention, hoping it was enough, but there always seemed to be a disconnect between us. I was afraid you’d feel that disconnect with everyone in your life.”
My mother has never spoken like this and never about this. We don’t talk about my issues. The conversation was always about me and my behavior and my problems, so that this illness and I were the same.
I didn’t just have a disease—I was the disease. Or at least that’s how it felt, and I never realized that until this very moment when my mother is finally talking about the elephant that has been in the room with us my entire life. One big manic-depressive elephant.
I don’t speak. I don’t know what the fuck I would say if I could. But she continues, talking in a low whisper, so we don’t wake Paul.
“I realize now that I failed you, Garrett. I kept you so close to me your entire life because I thought that I could love you enough to make up for all of my mistakes.”
“Mom, you didn’t—” My voice is stern and serious, because I’d like to end this awkward conversation right now, but she doesn’t let me.
“I’m sorry, Garrett.” Tears stream down her face, and I promptly shut up. I lock down the emotions rising in my throat, and I hold her hand instead. Like I did for Mia today, I try to be the rock my mother needs now. Even if I’m the one she’s claiming to have hurt.
Although I never saw it that way. My mother tried. I was the one who caused the problems and made it so fucking hard for her. I’m the one who should be apologizing, but I’m still not very good at expressing that shit.
“So when I say that Mia brings out the peace in you, Garrett, I mean that the connection I see between you two keeps you grounded like I’ve never seen before. Like the storm inside you has subsided. And that’s what I wanted for you all along. And I don’t care that I’m not the one who can help you or that she’s your stepsister or that Paul might hate it. You’re at peace, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
With that, she snatches a tissue from the box next to her chair and wipes her eyes. The elephant disappears and the mood lightens.
But I’m still speechless.
As the nurses come in, and my mother talks with them, I don’t move or say a word. Mentally, I keep replaying every moment with Mia at the lake house and the club, realizing that my mother is right. When I’m with Mia, I don’t feel alone or like I’m battling the heavy winds of my own emotions. I’m so focused on her, and even when we were fighting or teasing each other, with one look, she kept me tethered.
It hits me that the girl I never thought I could be with might have been made for me all along.
