Between Never and Forever: Part 2 – Chapter 40

Olive and Pink came by the suite after my father left to help with makeup and getting dressed, but my nerves couldn’t be settled even as they told me everything would be just fine.

“She barely recognizes anyone anymore. It was fifty-fifty a year ago when I would see her that she’d recall who I was without having an anxiety attack. She remembers me as a kid, not as who I am now.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get the good fifty percent this time,” Olive threw out there.

“I know I won’t.” Not everything could go right today.

“Even if you don’t, don’t you want to try?” Olive asked softly. My friend knew that my heart yearned for this, that I’d wanted it for a whole year.

I nodded, and my friends then worked in silence. The silence was filled with love and comfort though. They would be here for me either way. Dex and Dimitri would too. I’d finally found a family outside of my own who loved me just as I was. It might not have been my record label, but that didn’t matter.

The silence carried over on the car ride home too. My father didn’t turn on the radio or even attempt to make small talk. He just rolled down the window, and we listened to the breeze of my small town.

No photographers were there, and even if we turned a few heads, most everyone kept to themselves. People of the town protected those in that town, and my father was one of their own.

The sound of gravel under the tires was loud as he pulled into the driveway. I took a deep breath before I said, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“She’d never forgive me, Kee. You’re her daughter. Her only one.” His voice cracked. “And she’s your only mother. So, you get to see her on your wedding day.”

With that, he opened his door and then rounded to mine to help me out. My dress was unconventional in that it wasn’t at all white. It was a light, light lilac color, all soft lace, hugging all my curves. Penelope somehow had taken my request of a purple dress and made it beautiful. I’d made the request in an exaggerated attempt to thwart the planning she was doing, but somehow, she’d known.

It swished now against the grass of our front yard before my father unlocked the door and announced we were home. Both nurses came to greet me then stepped aside so I could see my mother in her kitchen.

She buzzed around, the soft sunlight filtering in through the sheer curtains she’d hung ages ago. The small table she set drinks on was still the same, the fridge the same, the dishes the same.

Her dark hair was thinner, but it seemed they still dyed it for her, the wrinkles on her face more pronounced, her frame smaller. Still, she was beautiful, standing there in a deep-purple dress that fell loosely to her knees. And the melody she hummed was one I knew well. A Caribbean song filled with joy, no sorrow. And all I could do was stand there, completely still, and hum it with her.

There was such a peace in seeing the parent who brought you life and knew how to soothe your every worry through the years standing there where you always knew them to be. Such a comfort settled in a child’s soul. My comfort was shaky though. My concern for her memory of me edged in to override that peaceful feeling.

What could I say to the mother I loved who might not remember me at all? Everything felt real. The dress was real. The event location was real. My family was real. And my mother… She was the most real thing there.

And when her eyes finally met mine, following the sound of the person harmonizing with her, I stopped. “Oh, Kee. Your voice always sounded better than mine. Why stop?” She shook her head.

I took one breath at her saying my name, and then another, but it was shaky. Alzheimer’s could steal a mind at any moment. “I just came by to say hi, Mom.”

“That’s a beautiful dress for just saying hi.” Her voice drifted off for a moment as recognition seemed to dawn. “Is that a…your wedding dress, Kee?”

“Mom?” I think my heart stopped as I stared at her looking at me.

Her eyes were lucid. They didn’t look right through me anymore. They held mine captive, full of love, full of her heart. She rushed forward, and even the nurses moved quickly out of the way as their eyes widened. This wasn’t normal for her to remember me. I didn’t come around often enough.

Still, her hands held my face as her dark eyes filled with tears. “Tell me it’s with Dex.”

I choked out a sob as I nodded.

She nodded back. “Of course it is. As it should be. And don’t you forget that.” Tears fell from her eyes. “I’m so sorry I can’t remember always.”

How could she apologize for something she couldn’t control? She’d always tried to protect me from it when she could. “Don’t say sorry. I missed you, and I love you and—” I stopped myself from carrying on, or I’d cry or trigger something. I was so scared to lose her again. It felt like if I didn’t make any wrong moves, maybe I wouldn’t.

She shook her head. “I’ll forget again soon. I know it. No one can control that.” I hated that she understood that she was forgetting too. That’s what hurt the most, knowing she knew. Watching how the world fell away from her, how she knew everything for a moment, even that she was losing it all, and still she smiled at me, brushed a hand over my cheek and said, “Don’t worry. Just live.”

She started to hum the melody we always did together, and I hummed it with her. This time, her memories faded quietly, without disruption, without pain, without fear. She turned to my father and said, “The sun’s beautiful out there today, huh? I bet the lilacs will bloom soon.”

He nodded as he wiped at the tears in his own eyes, and I turned to see a black SUV pull up outside of the house. I pointed to it and mouthed to my father that I would see him later.

Dex must have sent a car for me, knowing we’d need it. I backed out of the room, out of the house I grew up in, and then I cried all the way to the SUV.

I didn’t think as I got into the vehicle to look at the driver. My emotions were too jumbled, my heart too full from what had just happened. But when I glanced up to thank the driver, Ezekiel was sitting in a seat across from me.

He gripped my wrist hard and fast. “You lied to me, Keelani.”

“Lied?” I whispered out as he jammed a needle into my arm.

“You’ll only be paralyzed for a bit. You deserve it though. You know that.”

“What?” I was shocked by the prick of the needle, taken off guard by his boldness. I tried to yank my arm away but his grip tightened to a bruising force. “Ezekiel, you can’t—”

“You were supposed to be mine. This engagement was fake. Mitchell told me that.”

“I’m not yours.” I shook my head, but suddenly it felt heavy and dizzy and like I might be under water.

“You are!” His voice raised wildly, and he shook me in frustration. “I own you. My record label.”

“No. What?” Everything blurred together. His words, my words, my thoughts.

“We just need to get back to my place. I couldn’t have you sleep with him again. Not like you really were on your wedding night. You belong to me. You’ve always belonged to me, and he’s soiled you. Almost ruined you.” He continued to mumble, and I saw how his pupils were so dilated, he wasn’t all there. I wasn’t either.

“What did you do, Ezekiel?” I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

He scooted over to me and pulled me close. Then he pressed my head to his shoulder even as I tried to fight him off. It wasn’t any use. I was drowning in heavy water. It was sloshing over my thoughts, dragging me down. Even as I tried to yell, my voice was silent.

Into the night. Into the blackness I went.