But she never did, not really.
And we’d been watching her battle her own mind ever since.
“Tell Jase—”
“Tell Jase what?” He appeared in the hall, his brows bunched, arms folded over his chest.
“My dad needs me back at the house.”
“Again?” He didn’t even bother schooling his disapproval.
“Yeah, it’s my mom…”
“I thought she was doing better?” I winced at the harshness in his voice. But I couldn’t totally blame him for his lack of compassion. It wasn’t like I went around broadcasting my family’s issues, and Mom and Dad kept themselves to themselves these days. It was a sensitive subject; one Mom didn’t want everyone to know about.
“She’s doing okay, but something must have happened. I need to go.” I went to move around him, but his hand shot out, pressing against my chest.
“You sure everything’s okay?” His eyes searched mine and I wanted to believe he cared, that he wasn’t just worried this was going to be a distraction for me. For the team.
“Yeah, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” We liked to hit the gym Sundays, over at Asher’s house. “Just do me a favor, yeah?”
“Anything,” he said.
“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
The corner of Jase’s mouth lifted while Asher snickered. “Would we ever?”
I shot them both a hard look, hoping they would heed my warning, before slipping down the hall and out the back entrance, not wanting to face a barrage of questions from the guys.
I wanted to believe Dad when he said Mom was getting better, that this new doctor was positive he could help, but we’d been here too many times over the last three years. Every time her mood stabilized, and she started feeling like herself again, another wave of migraines, lethargy, and anxiety would strike. And every time it happened, the severity of her mood swings worsened. Sometimes it only lasted a few days, other times it went on for weeks. It’s why, in the end, Dad hired Katie to watch Xander. He needed to go back to work, and I had school and football. I offered to help out more, to drop practice and prioritize my family, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Neither of them would. Football was my ticket to college, my future. It didn’t stop the guilt though. I carried it with me like a permanent weight in my chest.
Deep down, I think it’s why things felt different this year. I was a senior now, playing in my final season. If everything went to plan, I would be leaving for college next summer; leaving Dad to raise Xander and look after Mom. I knew they didn’t want me to put my life on hold, but I wasn’t a kid anymore. And I couldn’t help but wonder if now was the time I needed to step up and take more responsibility at home.
My house was only a few blocks over from Bell’s and before I knew it, I was pulling into the driveway. It was late, almost nine-thirty. Xander should have been asleep by now dreaming of puppy-heroes and talking race cars, but something had obviously happened. With a heavy heart, dread knotting my stomach at the thought of what I’d find inside, I climbed out and made my way up to the house.
“Hey,” I called out, closing the door behind me. “It’s me.”
“We’re in here,” Dad’s voice filtered down the hall and I followed it into the living room. He sat in the armchair with Xander curled up in his lap. My little brother’s eyes peeked open and he smiled. “Ameron is ome.”
“Hey, buddy, come here.” I crouched down, opening my arms. He leaped off Dad’s lap and waddled over to me, his little legs moving as fast as they could. Scooping him up, I studied his face. He’d been crying, his eyes puffy and sore. My gaze flicked over his shoulder and Dad grimaced, running a hand down his face.
“What’s up, little dude?”
“Mama ade me ry.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” I ruffled his hair as he buried his face into my shoulder. “How about I tuck you in bed and finish that story we started the other night?”
Xan nodded, refusing to loosen his grip on my neck. “Come on then, buddy. Bedtime story it is.” I carried the little man up to his room, wrestling him out of my arms and into his bed.
“You want a story?”
His lips pressed together as he dropped his sleepy eyes. Fuck, seeing him like that twisted something inside me. “Hey, Xan,” I kneeled at the side of his bed, pulling the covers up around his little body. “Mom loves you. You know that, right?”
He peeked out at me from under his mop of brown hair. “I ow.”
“Sometimes she’s just not very good at showing it, buddy.” I stroked his hair, moving it off his face so I could see his eyes. “But she loves you so much and I’m pretty sure you’re her favorite little man, always will be.”
“Eah?” His eyes lit up. “She ove me.”
“That’s right, she does. She’ll make it up to you, okay?” She always did, whether it was ice cream at Ice T’s or taking him to the park. On her good days, Mom found ways to erase all the not-so-good days from my little brother’s mind.
“Kay, Ameron.” He yawned, closing his eyes and snuggling into his pillow.
“Okay, buddy. Get some sleep.” I dropped a kiss on his head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Xander was asleep in seconds. I tucked him in and creeped out of his room, pulling the door closed. I checked in on Mom, but she was sleeping too, her expression serene as if her dreams were the only place she found solace these days. The thought strangled my heart.
Before falling pregnant with Xander, Mom had been so full of life, my biggest supporter. It was hard to resent the little guy because I loved him something fierce. But sometimes, when she missed another game or forgot to ask how practice was, I couldn’t help but wish for things to be how they used to be. Before she got sick.
Downstairs, I found Dad in the kitchen, nursing a glass of whiskey. “How bad was it?” I asked.
“I’m not going to lie, Son, I’m worried.” His eyes shuttered as he inhaled deeply. “I’ve never seen her like that before, she was….” The pain in his voice broke me and I went to him, pulling him into my arms.
“It’s going to be okay, Dad.” I squeezed him tight, but as I said the words, I didn’t know if I believed them. We’d been clinging onto the hope Mom was going to be okay for so long, I don’t think either of us had really ever stopped to consider the alternative.
What if she wasn’t?
Hailee
Two hours into the party and we’d managed to blend. Toby and Jude kept our cups filled and the conversation flowing. It was refreshing being incognito; hanging out with people who didn’t know me or my tenuous link to the Raiders. And when Toby had inched closer to me, his arm brushing mine, I didn’t retreat. He was nice. He wasn’t like his cousin and his jock friends who were busy playing beer pong outside while half-naked girls splashed around in the Olympic-sized pool desperately vying for their attention.
“This is fun, right?” Flick made a beeline for me when the guys disappeared.
“Yeah.” I smiled, taking another drink from my cup. It was only punch, the bitter aftertaste of liquor barely noticeable.