Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
She placed the bottle of pills she’d been holding on her nightstand and released a lengthy yawn. “I’m getting sleepy. Could you stay with me for a bit? I really need you, son.”
“Okay.”
She took a drink from the water glass before lying down. She was sleep within minutes. I stayed by her side for several more minutes to make sure that she wouldn’t wake back up. The sleeping pills had finally kicked in.
As I stood up, I glanced at the bottle on the nightstand. I’m not sure what compelled me to pick it up. I read the label and who prescribed it: Dr. Laski.
I released a long heavy sigh as my mother entered my office, handkerchief in hand. Her eyes were already glistening with the watery sheen of tears, and immediately my guard went up. The show was about to begin, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react to this.
After seeing her pill bottle prescribed by the same doctor that had treated Kenny, the one who had been accused of running a prescription drug mill, I started to question everything. All my life I thought she was giving my brother the best of care. For as long as I could remember, my mother had always taken it upon herself to see that my brother was always cared for, ate a proper diet, and took his medication. She generally fussed over him.
Honestly, there had been times when I thought she fussed over him a little too much. Considering how sick he had always been, I figured she knew best, after all Kenny never really complained. Besides his cerebral palsy, my brother had had other health issues such as seizures and migraines. He was so sensitive to certain foods that even the smell of them was likely to cause him to get violently ill.
I remembered once when I was in high school, I’d gone out with some friends for pizza. There had been a few slices left over that no one else had wanted so I took them home to eat later. When my mother saw the pizza box, she freaked out and told me how selfish I was to bring that into her home, knowing how sick my brother was. She’d made me feel two inches tall, and by the time she was through with, I tossed the pizza in the trash can. In fact, it wouldn’t be for another few years before I even touched another slice of pizza.
Maybe that was part of the reason I couldn’t get far enough away from home when I finally graduated high school. The few occasions I came back to visit, Kenny’s condition seemed to worsen. There was a time when he could walk with the assistance of crutches, and then a walker. Finally, he was wheelchair bound. My mother had said it was completely normal. Looking back, I should have questioned her more, especially after Robin up and left without a backward glance.
I should have been paying attention, shouldn’t have let my guilt for moving away blind me to what was going on. My mother was nursing Kenny into an early grave. It was either that or she was being willfully ignorant about what was going on, and neither one of those options made her look good.
“What can I do for you, Mother?”
She froze, watery green eyes widening. “You…you only call me Mother when you’re perturbed with me. I don’t understand why I had to track you down at your office, and why you’re not returning my calls. This isn’t the way a son should be treating his own mother. All I’ve even done was love and sacrifice for my babies, and this is how I’m treated.” She delicately dabbed the corners of her eyes with the handkerchief.
“Why don’t you have a seat? Since you’re here, let’s talk about why I haven’t been taking your calls.” I left all emotion out of my voice and steeled myself to remain focused on what I needed to say.
And just like that her tears magically disappeared almost as she sensed her histrionics wouldn’t work on me at the moment or perhaps never again. She took the seat in front of my desk with an exaggerated huff. “I supposed you’ve been reading about what’s going on in the news.”
I shrug with a nonchalance that belies the tumultuous feelings raging inside of me. This is my mother, and if she’s complicit in what I suspect she is, then there’s no telling how I would react if I allowed myself the outburst threatening to come forth. It was the reason I’d been avoiding her. I needed time to determine what was what, but apparently my mother wanted to push my hand. “How could I not? The story has picked up nationally. The country is watching.”
She didn’t speak for a moment which was unlike her. Maybe she was calculating her next move, but whatever she had in store, anything she had to say, I planned to take with a grain of salt. “I’ve messed up.”