❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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Elliot's mother sat at the kitchen table with shaky hands, fork making unholy scratching noises as she pushed the food around her plate. She had become pale and thin, face weathered from the hurricane of devastation that had recently wreaked havoc in her life. It was as if the city she had spent years building had been wiped out by a single strike, things falling around her in quick succession. Following the pattern of collapsing dominoes. And the irony was that, as a child, she would have expected to stop falling by now. That, by this age everything should have been built and all that would be left to do was sit back and relax. Enjoy life. What a laugh all that was. Thinking that life's troubles lessened the older and wiser you became was one of the most naive thoughts in the world.
"I drove him out, didn't I?" She whispered, voice as cracked as her lips were chapped. Her blonde hair was matted and untamed, neglected as much as the rest of her body as she struggled to make the flowers inside her bloom once more. Even when there was no sunshine. "All of my horrible self loathing drove him out."
Her two eldest some sons glanced at one another, watching their mother with the kind of helplessness that reassembled watching a boat float out to sea after it had already become untethered from its mooring. They could do nothing but each place a hand on her shoulders, a gentle reassurance that they were still here. Which was ironic, really, because for the past few months being there had been the last thing on their minds.
"Mum, Elliot didn't leave because of you," Noah spoke softly, hand beginning to rub in slow circles as his mother's shaking grew stronger. A sickening feeling of guilt was unfurling in his stomach because, quite frankly, he had been the one to drive Elliot out. He had said some things that he really, really shouldn't have and Elliot hadn't deserved any of it. Not one bit. The youngest brother has held what was left of the family together and what had Noah done? Screamed in his face to defend insults that he knew were true. Something that he had absolutely no right to do, especially since Elliot's words were exactly what he needed to hear.
"But he did." Their mother ignored her son's comfort and continued to shake and tremor, hurricane on the horizon once more. But there wasn't much left to break this time. "He did. I've been such a terrible mother. I can't even look after my own boys."
"Mum. It's okay. You were hurting."
"We're all hurting Jacob! That's not an excuse to stop being there for my sons!"
Jacob glanced over at Noah, the brothers sharing the sort of glance that ached for the presence of a younger brother. The only one capable of diffusing hurricanes with a swift joke or smile. But they had all driven him out, unintentionally abandoned him to get caught up in the swirl of a natural disaster. And now that Jacob had finally returned home, it wasn't home anymore.
The sound of the door opening snapped the silence apart, cutting a taut wire loose as a dishevelled brother entered the house once more. His hair was everywhere, soaked to the skin and dripping wet as he stepped into the kitchen.
A small puddle of water pooled around his feet.
His smile was tired. Just like his eyes. But, somehow, it was still genuine. "Hey guys."
No other words were spoken.
But they didn't have to be.
Because the Davis family came together in a large, warm, slightly wet, group hug and were reminded of the unity and resilience that could only be found in one another.
