During those two years of normal, I finally managed to get my Bachelor’s degree, a job I love, and I’ve just proposed to a woman who has been there for me through it all. For the first time in a long time everything is on track.
Until a strange woman shows up at my door—she says I’m her husband and I think she’s crazy. Until, I get a voice mail on my phone. It’s from a guy name Cal. The weird part is, it’s the same name the strange woman called me. What terrifies me, is this guy Cal…his voice sounds just like mine
S
ilence, dead silence. There’s nothing I hate more in the world. It’s the sound that fills the room when you know the people you’re talking to are searching for something to say. Not just something, the
right
thing to say. They know if they speak too quickly, or the wrong words are spoken, everything will shift. The wrong response could tilt the world—your world—off its axis. I get why my parents are so careful with their words. Words changed our lives, and not for the better. It all started when I told them, “I don’t remember where I was last week.” The last time was when they told me, “Your mother is sick.”
In each instance, dead silence followed. Time stopped, and everyone tried to think of what was the right thing to say next. Now I’ve made an announcement that will change our lives forever, for what I hope is the better. That same silence follows, and they stare at me blankly. They’re shocked. I expected that. My dad finally cracks a smile, but my mom is still stoic. Her expression is unreadable, and that worries me.
“Wow. Engaged?” My dad’s the first to break the silence in the room. His eyes are wide, the excitement in his voice apparent.
“What do you think, Mom?” I ask, rubbing the back of my head. I thought she’d be happy. She and Jenna get along great.
“I—I don’t really know what to say, Chris.” She won’t even look at me as she lets out a long sigh. She gets up from the dining room table and disappears into the kitchen.
What type of congratulations is that? No smile, no tears of joy, not a single question? In the back of my mind, I knew there was a chance it could be like this, which is why I didn’t bring Jenna. I just told my mom I’m getting married. That I’ve chosen a woman to spend the rest of my life with, who is going to be the daughter she always wanted, and she walks out as if I just told her to grab me a sandwich. My dad looks behind him and sighs before his smile returns.
“Did you get a good deal on the ring?” he asks, trying to convey enough excitement for both of them. My dad has always been a dealmaker. I would have taken him with me to buy it if I thought he’d be this happy.
“I think so,” I chuckle.
“I took Lisa with me to pick it out,” I smile. I’m sort of proud about it. It’s one of the first big decisions I’ve made in my life without their input or influence. Lisa’s been my best friend since kindergarten, and she knows jewelry like nobody’s business. Even though she and Jenna aren’t the best of friends, Jenna loved the ring Lisa picked out. My dad makes his way over to me and pulls me into a bear hug.
“Well, congratulations, son,” he gives me another pat on the shoulder. It’s like I’m in bizarro world. My dad’s excited and accepting, but my mom looks as if I told her I’ve dropped out of college.
“Thanks, Dad,” I reply, still a little in shock. My mom is in the kitchen banging pots around.
“She’ll come around.” He notices my meandering glance towards the kitchen.
“I don’t get it. She likes Jenna, right?” I scratch my head. Now I’m confused. I mean, I thought she liked her, but this reaction is causing me to think she’s a good actress.
“Of course son, it’s not that she doesn’t like Jenna. I don’t think it has anything to do with her, really,” he motions his head toward the living room. I follow him there. We sit down across from each other on separate sofas.
“So what is it? To be honest, I expected you to be the upset one,” I admit with a dry chuckle. My mom runs away from the problem. If it were him, he’d confront it right then and there, head on. They really balance each other out.
“I’m happy for you, son. You deserve this. You deserve to be in control of the important decisions in your life,” he says, a wide smile on his face. He almost seems more excited than I am.
“She doesn’t think I’m ready, does she?” That has to be it. “I haven’t had a blackout in two years. I’ve been doing really well,” I say defensively, but the truth is I have to tell myself every morning that I’m ready.
“I know! This is exactly the thing you need to put the past behind you. To move into the future,” he says encouragingly. “
Your future
,” he adds with a smile. I don’t know who else’s future it would be, but I’ll take it as long as one parent’s on my side.
“Jenna and her parents are still coming over for dinner tonight. I’ve got to talk to Mom. Jenna is going to be really hurt if she thinks mom is against this,” I let out a deep breath and stand up.
“I’m going to grab some champagne for tonight,” my dad grabs his jacket off the coat stand. “I’m proud of you, son.” And at that, he slips out the door. I shake my head in disbelief and head to the kitchen.
My dad is actually happy about this?
Never would have thought it. Once I’m in the kitchen, I see my mom pulling a bowl of potatoes from the sink and setting them on the counter.
“Need some help?” I ask, turning on the faucet and washing my hands. She smiles at me.
“It’s been a while since you helped me in the kitchen,” she says with a laugh and hands me a knife. “I remember when you were a little boy. After you’d finish working on the old engine your dad let you tinker with, you’d come in here, dirt and oil all over you, and ask to help cook,” she jokes, starting to peel a new batch of potatoes. I laugh at the memory. I love both my parents
.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for either of them. When I found out she had cancer, it was like the wind was knocked out of me—a bad joke.
Before that, my blackouts had been worse than ever. Most of the time, they’d last weeks instead of days, sometimes months. I was losing my mind; the sessions weren’t helping.
The medication only made me depressed. Then with all of that, my mom gets diagnosed with stage three cancer. I thought that was the worst thing that could happen to us, but somehow it was a blessing in disguise. After that, my blackouts and headaches were practically nonexistent. I met Jenna, who helped me stay sane during a time I thought I would lose my mom,
and less than eight months later, my mom was cancer-free.
“Mom,” I say quietly.
“Honey, I am happy for you. I am,” she says, her voice perky,
bu
t the expression on her face seems forced. I touch her shoulders and turn her towards me. She lets out a small breath and holds both my arms.
“Tell me the truth?” She’s been so strong through everything. There were days when I asked how she was doing, and I knew they were hell for her, but she kept up her smile and never complained. She never let us know how much pain she was in. Her eyes meet mine briefly before they find the floor.
“Please,” I ask again, giving her my best puppy dog eyes, and she hugs me.
“I want you to be happy, Christopher. I want nothing more in this world than for you to be happy,” she says, and her voice breaks. I feel tears wet my shirt, and she walks a few steps away from me.
“Mom, you’re scaring me now,” I chuckle, but my heart is speeding up... I thought she’d cry because she was happy, not this. My stomach drops when I realize what could be causing this. I put my arm around her, lead her to the kitchen table, and sit beside her. She takes a Kleenex and dabs her eyes.
“You’re not...you’re not sick again are you, Mom?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer.
“Oh no, honey! I’m so sorry to make you even think that,” she shakes her head vehemently. I let out a big sigh of relief as she squeezes my hand.
“I just—things have been going so well, and I know you care a lot about Jenna,” she says, a small smile appearing, but her eyes avoid mine. “Are you ready?
Really
ready?” she asks, her eyes finding mine again. Her gaze is so intense I feel like she’s trying to see inside of me.
“I asked myself this over a thousand times already, Mom,” I reveal with a laugh. “Everything you’re thinking about, I’ve probably thought it five times over. The thing is, I don’t think there is ever going to be a time where I know that I’m cured from this—if I’ll ever be,” I say honestly. Her lips tighten, and she nods her head.
“If not now, when? I’m tired of being afraid to live my life because of what may happen,” I tell her. “I never know when these blackouts will happen. But for now, things have been good. In a few months it will be almost two years since I had the last one. It was hell, but I’ve finally finished school. I have an amazing woman who knows about my condition, and doesn’t think I’m a weirdo, or some sad puppy that needs to be taken care of. And, you’re doing better.” I finally see a genuine smile start to appear on her face even though her eyes are still watery. “I want to get married, maybe get you some grandkids,” I give her a playful nudge. I thought that’d make her laugh, only it doesn’t. Instead, she looks anguished, maybe even a little guilty, but that can’t be right. She won’t even look at me as she gets up from the table and starts to pace the floor.
“Mom, what is it?” I stand up and walk towards her. Something’s wrong. She finally stops and looks at me.
“There’s something we haven—”she stops mid-sentence as my dad comes through the door with a bottle of champagne in hand. His smile is wide as he eyes the chilled bottle. When his gaze finds us, his expression turns grim.
“What’s going on?” I look at my mom and then at him. “You haven’t what, Mom?” I ask her again, glancing at my dad.
“What haven’t we done?” he asks, his tone is low. My mom glares at him, and that awkward silence has returned, the tension so thick I could choke on it.
“What?” I ask more firmly, causing their stare-down to end, and they both turn to look at me. My mom’s eyes dart away from me but my dad’s eyes stare straight into mine.
“Dexter Sr. is here in Madison,” he says abruptly. The grandfather from hell. Whenever he comes here, it’s usually bad news for the town. He’s either shutting something down or opening something that will destroy someone else’s lively hood. Most of the people here tend to forget our family’s association with the Crestfields, but their presence always serves as a reminder. My mom never liked him, but for her to be this upset...