"So I-uh invited my parents for dinner this evening." I leaned back onto the kitchen chair and watched as Mark began to unload the dishwasher, putting each dish away immediately upon retrieval. Hearing the word 'parents' made my blood run cold, and my heart race. After what had happened when he met my parents, realizing I'd now be meeting his made me somewhat nervous.
His parents were rarely something Mark ever mentioned. I couldn't deny my curiosity as to why all of a sudden not only was he bringing them up but, I'd be meeting them. Talking about his parents always seemed to be a touchy subject. As to why that was, I really never had the slightest idea but I respected that his family wasn't apart of him that he wanted me to see very often.
"That's great babe. I look forward to meeting them but, I don't get it. You never mention them, and now you spring it on me that I'll be meeting them. What gives?" Mark sighed, slamming this dishwasher shut before he even finished unloading it, and joined me at the table taking the seat on my left.
His eyes seemed glazed over, and his upper lip began to quiver when he looked into my eyes. Immediately my insides began to turn. Something about the way he was acting didn't seem like himself. He clearly had no desire to discuss the matter, if anything he looked to be in pain but not physical type of pain.
I could sense he was hiding something, and seeing his facial expression before he finally replied to my questioning made me feel guilty for prying. "I know but, if you don't meet them now I have a feeling you never will. I'll explain later, alright?" As much as I wanted the explanation now, I respected it was something he didn't want to discuss and I certainly didn't want to pry.
There was a moment of absolute awkward silence. I spent that time trying to really get a reading on him, and the only thing that was very evident was he seemed quite upset. There was something about the silence that was unsettling, and after just talking about his parents the mood in the room had made a quick switch to something a lot more heart wrenching.
I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was but, deep down I knew there was something wrong. He had fallen back into his chair with his head sunk into his chest, just staring blankly down at the table seeming as if to be completely lost in thought. All color had disappeared from his face, and I really thought he was about to break down.
I reached across the table, and took a hold of his hand while I observed his body language. Mark looked like he was on the brink of shutting down, and that's when it really hit me that whatever this was really about, it was bad. I knew there was something heavily playing on his mind, which was only confirmed when Mark tore his hand away from mine and ran it back through his hair. There was a wet consistency to his eyes as he looked up at me, which absolutely broke my heart.
"They'll be here in about in a little bit. I need to run to the store and get something for dinner. Why don't you get yourself ready while I'm gone." There was a shakiness in his voice as he spoke those words which seemed to mimic his trembling body perfectly and for whatever reason that gave me a terrible sickening feeling. Now more then ever, I wanted answers but I rose to my feet trusting all my questions would be answered in due time.
Before heading off to take a shower, I stopped behind his chair, and kissed the top of his head like he so often did for me when I was down, as if a means to remind him I care. As I pulled away and began to walk down the hall towards the bathroom that's when I heard the most surprising sound. Soft sorrowful whimpers, coming from the kitchen.
***
As soon as I heard the doorbell ring, my heart sank to the pit of my stomach and instantly I got chills. By the way Mark talked about his parents or at least WHEN he talked about his parents, he made them seem like they're relatively easy going. I knew I had no real reason to be nervous but after what happened when Mark met my parents, I couldn't help but be somewhat anxious. 'What if I don't make a good impression? What if they think I'm too young for him?'
They may have sounded like great people, but I couldn't shake the feeling of it turning out similar to what happened last time. "It smells great in here, what are you making?" I found myself somewhat frozen in place when I heard an unfamiliar muffled female voice coming from behind the bathroom door, and then a sweet joyful chuckle that sounded very similar to Mark's laughter.
It didn't take me too long to realize that the voice I heard must have been his mother and although I was nervous to meet his parents I knew I couldn't hide in the bathroom the entire evening. I allowed my eyes to flutter shut for a moment and I drew in a deep breath trying to shake the nerves, and open my eyes again when I felt I was as ready as I'll ever be.
With just having settled my nerves, I ran my hand back through my hair giving it a final toss before proceeding out into the hallway and out into the kitchen. As I walked out into the kitchen, with my head hung, I finally had a sense of what Mark must have been feeling when he met my parents. My heart was pounding, my knees were shaking and my mind was racing a million miles an hour, although I tried my best not to let it show.
I brought my head up from the hardwood floor, and made eye contact with the first person in my line of sight, who had became dead silent as soon as I stepped foot into the kitchen. "Awe, Mark she's beautiful. Hello sweetheart," an older Asian woman cried out making an advance towards me with arms open wide.
She wrapped me in a warm embrace, which reminded me a lot of how my mother would hug me. As nervous as I was, her touch was a sorts of comfort. "Hello, Mrs. Fischbach. It's so nice to meet you," I greeted her pulling away from her hug. Her eyes beamed with warmth, and her smile was angelic. 'I guess I know where Mark get's his smile from.'
My eyes darted around the room for a brief moment, Mark's mood seemed to have shifted since I began to get ready. He didn't appear happy nor sad but rather he seemed content. However, it was just the three of us in the kitchen and I was under the impression that I'd be meeting both of his parents.
I stood back, swaying back and forth on my tiptoes, unsure what to do or say. Although his mother seemed like a very sweet woman, a part of me still felt somewhat shy and intimidated. Just looking over at Mark, I knew just by the expression on his face, he could tell I was still somewhat uncomfortable and immediately he dropped what he was doing. I gave him a reassuring smile just to let him know I'll be fine but, he made his way over to me regardless.
His hand trailed from my shoulder down to my hand, and he intertwined our fingers for a brief moment before giving me a kiss on the forehead "You're doing fine," he whispered pulling his lips away from my head, and just flashed me a quick smile. "You want a drink baby?" I heavily weighed on the offer for a moment.
One glass of wine wouldn't hurt and perhaps it would make me a little more social. I'm usually rather good with new people but after what happen with my parents, I wanted desperately for Mark's to like me as well, and perhaps a drink would calm my nerves. "Yes, plea..."--"I like... what you've done... with the place."
I was cut off when I heard yet another unfamiliar voice. This one was male, and was very broken coming from behind me. Before I could turn around to see who was speaking, I had a light hand grip on my shoulder. "Excuse me dear," the faint voice said and I scooted a little more off to the side.
I could only assume the gentleman behind me was Mark's father, and questioned how it was he ended up down the hallway without my knowledge, but shrugged it off assuming he went down there while I was in the bathroom. When he appeared in front of me and headed towards the nearest chair, I'm sure I had absolute shock written across my face.
A white haired older gentlemen took a seat across the table from Mrs. Fischbach near breathless with an oxygen tank in hand and breathing tubes in his nostrils. I found my heart breaking at the very sight of the man, as I watched him struggling to breath. I was simply at a loss for words, and as Mark spun around with a glass of wine in hand for me, I could see he was no longer in a content frame of mind.
Just the look in his eyes told me his heart was breaking just as much, if not more then mine was. If anything now, just being face to face with his parents, I just had even more questions but I knew those would have to wait until later. As for now, it was best to just take things one step at a time. I couldn't help but feel somewhat stupid, foolish at best. I had thought by now I knew almost everything there was to know about Mark and his life, however this was surprising.
I understood he has his reasons for not talking about his parents but, this was a pretty big thing. Clearly there was something seriously wrong with breathless man, and I couldn't help but question why Mark had never told me about this. "(YN,) this is my father," Mark proclaimed handing me my glass of wine and gestured his other hand out towards his dad.
'At least if he made it a point to tell me about his father's condition, I would have know what to expect and wouldn't have felt so foolish standing here in shock.' Even while I was questioning why Mark would hide something like this, I knew I shouldn't make this any more awkward or difficult then it had to be. "It's a pleasure to meet you," I greeted his father walking toward him with an extended hand.
The smile that formed across his face was faint yet fond, in which I could only respond with an even bigger grin when he took a hold of my hand. He didn't say a word to me word to me at first. Then when he finally did open is mouth as if to introduce himself, his own breathing cut him off and hitched in the back of his throat followed by a few light coughs.
At first I took it as nothing more then a possible cold and attributed the oxygen tank as something he needed because of his age. However when the coughing progressed into merciless hacking, and his face changed from a slightly tanned in color to slightly red which very rapidly turned to purple I panicked.
I let go of his hand, and stepped back a few feet just to be shuffled off to the side when Mark ran out from behind me with a glass of water in hand. I panicked watching this man cough out a lung, and I felt absolutely helpless. watching him choke. Mark was so quick on his feet it seemed almost as if he were prepared for something like this to happen and the more I thought about it, the more curious is made me.
Thankfully the coughing slowed down and eventually came to a sudden halt shortly afterwards. The gentlemen apologized to me for pretty much coughing in my face, and just the look in his eyes told me the he was sincerely apologetic. Having tiny splats of saliva on my t-shirt here and there was the least of my worries. The man was clearly ill, and the coughing was nothing he needed to apologize for.
I simply gave him a light hearted smile in response, hopefully signifying that it was completely alright, before taking a seat at the kitchen table, slowly sipping on my glass. "Babe, you wanna get down some plates and get out some cutlery and start setting the table, please." I didn't exactly have a full minute to relax before I was requested for help, of course I didn't mind. Mark was the one to slave over the hot stove, and setting the table was the least I could do.
***
Dinner wasn't anything fancy, but it really didn't need to be. It wasn't very often Mark cooked, and honestly I was surprised he could make anything other then pasta or a call for take out. However he made ribs and various side dishes all on his own, which earned some well due credit from me.
Overall this evening, it may have started out rocky but as I let loose I really began to enjoy myself. Their company was truly joyous, and thankfully there wasn't another coughing spell throughout dinner. It was nice to be surrounded by Mark and his parents who somewhat reminded me of my own, and I really felt right at home which I was so worried about.
They never questioned how we met, or my age. Although it was obvious that I'm a younger woman they didn't seem to really care, at least not enough to ask. They seemed to be accepting that I was very evidently younger then Mark but, so long as their son was happy they appeared to be happy for him. I just found myself wishing my parents could have been the say way. We had just finished eating and Mark was rather quick to start clearing dishes, making him a great host.
"So...Mark...how's work...going?" Immediately my stomach began to sour at the very question. I wasn't sure if his parents knew about Mark quitting his old job, and I didn't know what he planned on telling them. These were his parents, not mine so if he was going to lie to them, that was entirely all on his own. "I uh- I actually start a new job tomorrow."
I peeked up from my place mat just in time to witness both of their facial expressions change. It was clear to see their were both very confused. "Starting a new job, what happened to teaching? I thought you loved it. Well what's the job," his mother asked appearing to be completely baffled. It was then I felt a warm gentle hand rest upon my shoulder. I cocked my head to see Mark standing at my side.
He looked rather confident and calm, not at all what I'm sure I looked like in the moment. He looked down at me, and our eyes locked. His eyes spoke to me what in the moment his words couldn't, and I somehow felt less tense by this. "Nothing happened to it. I'm still teaching, just transferring schools. I wasn't happy there but I know the transfer will be best for me."
He was being one hundred percent honest with them though. It may have been a vague response but it seemed to satisfy her curiosity. "Well in that case, we won't keep you. It's getting kinda late. Your father has to take his bedtime medication soon and you have to get up early. Dinner was lovely though. Thank you sweetheart." Mark's mother expressed her gratitude, with a wide grin before taking a stand up and onto her feet.
"You ready to head out," she ask his father reaching across the table for his hand. Just something about Mr. Fischbach's dully lit eyes, and emotionless facial expression kind of got to me. He seemed pained, and rather unsure if he wanted to leave. There was just something about his body language that said something this words couldn't express, and as I looked over to Mark I could sense in his gaze he felt it too.
After a moment of silence, and what appeared to be heavy contemplating the older gentleman finally took a grip onto the table trying to stand on wobbly legs. Instantly Mrs. Fischbach took a hold of under one of his arms, and Mark took a hold of his free hand, helping him come to a full standing position like a newborn baby calf or something. "Thank you... for dinner son. It... meant a lot to me. It was nice to... see you... again," the man muttered in a panting whisper-like tone.
The sincerity in his voice was very genuine, and I could only sit back and question why he would choose those words in that particular order. I also couldn't shake the thought of why Mark doesn't see his parents very often when they seemed like really nice people. Still, I held off from trying to pry, knowing my questions would hopefully soon be answered.
Mark and Mrs. Fischbach escorted Mr. Fischbach across the room to the front door, and helped the man put his shoes on. When they appeared to be ready to head out I finally got up from the table, to say my goodbyes. "It was so nice to finally meet you both. Perhaps we can do this again sometime," I suggested eagerly. Mrs. Fischbach looked over at Mark and then focused her attention on Mr. Fischbach. Both of which at this point looked relatively distressed.
"Perhaps. Under God's good will my dear," she sighed clutching on to Mr. Fischbach's arm leading him halfway out the front door before he stopped and turned around. At first there were no words spoken, but a somewhat pitiful gaze made between Mark and his father before Mark stuck out his arms and clung to the back of his dad's shirt. "I love you dad, and I'm so sorry for not being there."-- "Just remember I love you more."
The tone in Mark's voice broke my heart. As I stood back and watched the exchange of lighthearted words I couldn't shake thevfeeling of this not being a normal goodbye. The was a depressing and absolutely gut wrenching sensation that loomed around us. Maybe that was because for whatever reason, this goodbye seemed final.
The embrace they shared was rather dragged out and rightfully so before his parents finally took their leave and Mark shut and looked the door behind them. Before I even had the chance to make much sense of what happened, Mark had his forehead resting against the door, and his hands in tightly balled up fists as he began to beat the wooden door in what appeared to be anger. I could tell just by this action alone, he needed me more then I even realized.
"I think I've been rather patient. I'm sorry if you don't want to talk about it but, what's going on," I inquired, taking a closer step towards the door and wrapping my around around Mark's tense torso. Although I had my suspicions, I wanted clearer justification.
It was one thing for Mark to spring it on me that I'd be meeting his parents on such short notice but meeting them, was a lot harder then I thought it'd be but for a very different reason. "My dad was diagnosed with lung cancer last year. I was talking to my mom earlier today, she was having a rough time. They had just gotten back from a doctor's appointment at the cancer clinic. My dad's on borrowed time babe that's why I invited them on such short notice."
'Borrowed time...' My breathing became shallow, and my insiders twisted into a knot hearing those words. All in a matter of a few seconds I felt my very heart stop beating and then completely shatter. "That's why I don't see my parents too often. I'd rather have memories of my father being happy and healthy, as opposed to him dying before my eyes. However I know I was wrong. I regret that choice, it's just too hard to see him like this. I'm not strong enough."
Suddenly, it all made sense and all my questions had been answered. What happened next, somewhat surprised me but, I couldn't expect anything less. What started out as small whimpers and slight sniffles very quickly turned into full on tears and although I couldn't see Mark crying, I felt the warm liquid dripping down onto my trembling hands.
With that, Mark reached down and held my hands even closer to his body, and I just nuzzled my face close into his back just to let him know I was there and I always will be. "I'm so sorry," I whispered giving him a light kiss to his shoulder. I knew it wouldn't make much of a difference but, in the moment that seemed to be the only thing I could say. One of the strongest men I've ever known in my entire life was breaking down, and unfortunately there was nothing I could do. As much as I wanted to begin crying myself, I couldn't. I had to stay strong for Mark.
----
(I know this is a very touchy subject for anyone, but I need you guys to trust me.)