The quiet moans coming from Mama’s room quickly pulled our attention from the romantic comedy Sara and I were watching while lounging on her oversized sofa. We both launched to our feet and headed into her room, and the cries become more prominent the closer we got.
I was ahead of Sara and the first to enter the room, but she was right behind me.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” I asked, knowing a verbal response wouldn’t come but asking just the same. Mama was sitting straight up in her bed, scraping her right hand over her left, staring at her fingers, moaning as tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks.
“What is it?” Sara mumbled before each of us flanked Mama’s side trying to comfort her.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I grabbed her hand, the scar over her ring finger still too deep to hide.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Sara wrapped her arms around our mother’s frail shoulders, trying to soothe her cries as I continued to rub my hands over hers.
“Mmmm…mmmmm.” Her lips were tight, but her eyes were wild with fear, and for a moment, I wondered if she was still asleep. She was still rubbing one hand over the other as if she were trying to wipe something away. That’s when I realized that her scar was the focus of her frustration.
“Mama, stop. It’s okay. It’s fine.” I closed my hand around hers and scanned the nightstand next to her bed.
Sara realized what I was looking for and swiped the ring from the glass plate next to the lamp, handing it to me.
“Here, here. See, it’s all better.” My voice a calm whisper as I placed the white gold ring with three hearts on her scar-ridden finger.
“It’s all gone. It’s all gone.” Sara rubbed her back in a circular motion, and Mama’s moans quieted, her tears replaced with shaky breaths.
“It’s okay,” I repeated once again, trying to reassure all three of us at once.
“It’s all gone, Mama. Nothing can hurt you anymore. All that’s over.” Sara pressed her lips to Mama’s temple, and my heart began to thrash against my ribcage.
I only wished that I had as much confidence in the situation as Sara did.
She didn’t know. She didn’t see what I saw.
We spent the next thirty minutes trying to comfort her in silence as she slowly drifted off to sleep. We slid out of the bed and exited her room without a sound, closing the door behind us.
“I fucking hate him. Still,” Sara murmured under her breath as we walked back into the kitchen.
I watched her start a fresh pot of coffee, nodding as she held up my cup.
“Me too.”
“He fucked her up bad. She’ll never be normal again.” She shook her head and grabbed a cupcake from the container on her counter before shoving another in front of me.
“Do you ever get scared?” I asked without thinking twice.
“Of what?” She cocked her brow at me in confusion.
“That he’ll come back for us.” I stared at the table, unable to look her in the eye.
“He’s a fucking vegetable. He’s not going anywhere.” She chuckled at her own statement.
“Technically, it’s just a coma. He’s not braindead. What if he wakes up?” I bit my bottom lip, trying not to let my fears and emotions get the best of me as Sara let out a full-on laugh from the other side of the kitchen.
“He hasn’t moved in twelve years, he’s not going anywhere. Besides, the doctors all said the longer he’s comatose, the less likely he is to wake up. If he does wake up, he ain’t walking out of that nursing home.” She poured both of us another cup of coffee while she spoke and then sat at the table with me.
“But what if he did?” I wanted to know what she thought.
“Then fuck that motherfucker. I’m not scared of him. I’ve got a forty-five with his name on it if he ever came around any of us—that’s if Jake didn’t do it first.” And I knew she believed it. She wasn’t scared of him, she didn’t have a fearful bone in her body.
I don’t think she was ever scared of him. The only reason she didn’t stand up to him when she was a child was to try to protect Mama.
“But seriously, sis. We’re okay. He can’t hurt us. Not anymore.” She stared at me, waiting for me to make eye contact with her.
I gave her a nod, assuring her that I believed her. And I hoped to God she believed me because I wasn’t so sure.
I’d never told anyone what Jackson and I saw that day. It was the secret that we’d promised we’d take to the grave. But a part of me always worried that Duane would wake from his coma and come after me. He knew I saw him. He knew I left him there to die. And he would come back to punish me if he ever got the chance. I was sure of it.
Sara and I were so close, part of me wanted to tell her the truth. But she was so young then, and I was too afraid she’d tell Mama. And I also believed deep down in my heart that Mama would be upset with me for leaving him there and not calling for help. Because no matter how horrible he was—to all of us—I knew she loved him. And now, too much time had gone by for me to confess the truth. So the only option was to leave it alone.
“Anyway, enough of the heavy shit.” She stood and took both of our cups to the dishwasher.
“Agreed.”
“Do you want to finish the movie?” she asked, pulling a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, and I chuckled. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and the fact that she even had it in the house surprised me.
“Actually, it’s getting late. I better get home. I think she’s down for the night, so I’ll come back tomorrow after work.” I glanced at the clock on the wall and wondered if Jackson was even home. He hadn’t called to check on me, which he rarely did anymore, but I assumed he was still working.
“Party pooper.” Sara stuck her tongue out at me before putting the wine back in the refrigerator.
“Save it for this weekend. I’ll come over unless Jackson has plans for us.” Who was I kidding? Jackson didn’t make plans for us, and I knew I’d be here as long as Sara wasn’t busy with Jake.
“Okay, bitch.” She pulled me into a tight hug and gave me a squeeze.
“Give Mama a kiss for me and let her know I’ll be back tomorrow. Let me know if she has another episode; I can come help.” I wrapped my arms around my baby sister and held on tightly.
“I will. Be careful. And let me know if you get the nerve to hit on the sexy daddy at work.” She wiggled her eyebrows before smacking her hand over my bottom.
“You’re a horrible person,” I retorted with a snort before turning to the front door.
“You fucking love me.” She aimed her middle finger in my direction.
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved my finger right back before closing the door behind me.
I really couldn’t imagine my life without my sister. She was my savior even when she was too young to realize what that was. Her strength and sense of humor kept me going, and I could never thank her enough.