Cole Walker's POV
I blinked, staring at mom while words completely deserted me. My mouth ran dry and I swallowed, while pondering immensely whether it was too late to turn around. It was, as I found out as soon as my hand brushed the handrim of my wheelchair, and mom moved swiftly to block my way out of the kitchen.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
"Do you want to go first, or should I start?" Mom asked, pushing my chair to the table and taking the chair opposite of me. When I still couldn't bring myself to say a word, mom sighed and started explaining: "I know I haven't always been the best mom for you, and especially not for Cody. I know that, and so does he. But I've been doing better, haven't I?"
"Yes." I whispered, croakily.
"I'm seeing a therapist and I've made sure you, Cody and Chloe all get the best help we can afford." Mom reasoned before pursing her lips together. "I made a mistake — multiple mistakes — but I'm trying to do better. I don't know what else I could possibly do to make it up to you."
A tear slipped onto her cheek, and she made no effort to wipe it away. As I studied her, so beaten down and comfortless, I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. Hadn't she noticed that I had, in all the quiet, already set down my battle ax and forgiven her? I hadn't raised my voice at her since Cody and I talked, and yet mom had been so busy waging a war against me that she didn't notice she was the only soldier still standing.
"Why didn't.." I muttered, stumbling to a halt as mom lifted her gaze to look at me. "I just can't understand how you noticed my depression, but nothing that was going on with Cody. I was just fine, but Cody, he.. Uh. He would have needed help, not me."
"Cole." Mom said, emphatically. "You were not fine. You stopped talking to us for days and I had to force you to leave your room, and to shower and eat."
"I should have hidden it better then." I huffed. I drew in a shuddering breath, blinking my eyes to keep to the stupid tears from pouring out.
"Why? So that we wouldn't have noticed how bad things were before you ended up in a hospital after a suicide attempt or something?" Mom shook her head, her voice growing softer. "I am glad I could at least help you. I even thought I hadn't managed to let you down like I did to Cody, but I have, haven't I?"
"No, mom, you're not listening." I snapped, desperate to make her understand. "I was the one to let Cody down. I should have noticed he wasn't doing well, but no, I was too blinded by his fake smiles and my stupid, meaningless problems."
"You can't blame yourself for something none of us noticed." Mom said, then brought her hand to her mouth, thinking. "It is not your responsibility to take care of your siblings, and I'll forever regret making Cody feel like it was his job to do so for you and Chloe."
"Then why did you?" I asked, still not quite believing that it wasn't my fault. I had grown so used to the smothering weight of guilt and self-hatred in my chest that letting go of it didn't even feel like a real option. I'm not sure whether I should have been happy or completely crushed realizing that all along my anger had been guilt and grief in disguise.
"It is no excuse, but Cody was always such a mature and responsible kid that it was easy to forget that he was only a child just like you and Chloe. And.." Mom paused, taking in a deep breath, before admitting: "I don't want you to take this as an insult, but I see so much of myself in you."
"I don't.." I was about to say that I didn't yell and blame others for my mistakes, but wasn't that exactly what I had been doing ever since I found out about Cody's bullying? "I'm not.." What? Mean on purpose? Well, neither was mom.
"What I mean is that I too was in a dark place when I was younger. Have you ever wondered why my parents aren't a part of our lives?" Mom asked, halting to wait for me to nod. "I was seventeen, when I met your father. He was the nicest and the smartest guy I had ever met and I fell in love in a blink of an eye, but my parents didn't see it that way. They wanted me to marry a Greek man, as they had this ideal of continuing our line with someone they could choose for me.."
I could picture it in my mind: a young version of my mom, still full of life and unshattered dreams. How smitten she must have been to leave behind her home and family. I could see my dad, this funny and smart man her parents disliked just because he wasn't Greek like they were.
These past couple of years, I've been so focused with the difficulties of the same sex couples that I haven't even stopped to think about the possibility that it isn't always easy for the straight couples either. I know how it sounds, but that's just the honest truth. I had completely forgotten to think that there were about a hundred other witless reasons for some people to deem a relationship improper.
"And they kept insisting that your dad lacked social skills, calling him autistic like that was some horrible shortage in a person." Mom continued, frowning. "So, I was made to choose between your dad and my family."
Was dad an autistic person? If he were, all his borderline obsessive interests and strict routines made so much more sense. But to use that against him? Jesus, I was starting to think I was lucky never having to meet my grandparents.
"When I got pregnant, and had a miscarriage, I fell into this hopeless, dark place. We thought that if we tried again, things would get better. We had.." Mom's voice broke, and she had to pause to gather herself. "Another miscarriage, and I gave up all my hopes of becoming a mother."
"But you did get pregnant again." It wasn't a question, as I was just stating the obvious. Or, who knows, perhaps mom was going to drop another bomb by telling me we were adopted.
"Yes, Cody was our miracle child." Mom said softly, a smile spreading on her lips. "But after he was born, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. I knew the signs as soon as you got depressed, because I've been through them myself."
"Oh." Was all I could get out of my mouth, as I gaped at mom.
"I was still depressed when I got pregnant with Chloe, and we hadn't planned on having more children yet. I knew I wasn't going to be a good mother, unless I got my act together." Mom explained, her next words so quiet it was barely a whisper: "I asked for my parents' help, thinking they would care to at least know I wasn't well. They didn't, but having Dahlia around helped a lot."
"Aren't your parents mad at Dahlia for staying in contact with you?" I asked.
"Oh, but she isn't welcomed into their lives either." Mom pointed out, skewing a green bean with her fork and eyeing it with little appetite.
"What, why not?" My chin likely touched the table at that point, as I was struggling to take in all the information.
"She didn't want to marry a Greek man, although in her case it was more about not wanting to marry a man." Mom explained, popping the bean into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. I hadn't even touched my food yet.
"Is Aunt Dahlia a lesbian?" I exclaimed. How had I not seen it?
"Who did you think Cheryl was? A roommate?" Mom asked.
Dahlia has lived with this bohemian artist friend of hers ever since I can remember, and as a child I did find it a bit odd that they only had one bed. If my grandparents couldn't accept mom's choice of a man or Dahlia being a lesbian, they would probably have a heart attack if they ever found out about X and me.
"Well.." I shrugged and wiped a hand over my face. "Actually, yeah."
We both started laughing then, feeling the tension between us melting away. I knew we still had so many more things to talk about, such as her yelling at me to the point where I would always be a little terrified of her, but something had already shifted for the better between us.
"When I had you, I was better. I thought I could still be a good mother after all, but.. I know I haven't always been good to you." Mom said.
"Mom, I'm sorry too." I admitted, earning a tender smile from her. She got up, making my muscles tense for a second or two out of habit, and crouched down to give me a tight hug. After a while, I hugged her back just as firmly. "I'm sorry, mom, I'm so sorry."
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Another question of the day:
2 things you'd like to try.
(Me: Bungee jumping and, speaking of fantasy books, writing one. Or three, probably three.)