Page 148 of Toxic Wishes
“You think I don’t know my son after almost thirty years?”
I closed my eyes as I rest my head on the couch.
“When are you going to free yourself from the past, son? It’s not your fault.”
“Did Dad say something to you? Where is this all coming from?”
“No, he doesn’t have to. The only thing he mentioned is that you and Miss Abigail cleaned out Blake’s room.”
There was a brief silence before she said, “I’m proud of you. I think that was very brave, and I know it may have brought back negative emotions, but sometimes, we need to push through those dark, heavy clouds to see the brighter side of things. The sunshine. Besides, it’s your father who needs to feel the guilt, not you. Blake was never your responsibility.”
“Yeah, that’s what you keep saying.”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“That doesn’t mean we know if he meant to do that. Suppose there was something we missed. The signs. How do we know we didn’t see them? Maybe it was my fault. I mean, brothers should feel that sort of thing or sense it.”
When I mentioned signs, I immediately thought of Abigail and her big book, which I read with all the explanations and descriptions of zodiac signs and the most compatible ones. I looked up hers and mine, and the title of what we were still flashes in my mind occasionally.
Nothing Short of Amazing
“Take this as your sign,” my mom says, snapping me out of it. “Don’t do what you always do. Abigail is different, and you may regret not knowing just how special she is.” I could hear the twinkle in Mom’s voice. She was always full of such hope, and if it weren’t for her faith and dedication, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
“Okay, Mom. It was good talking to you.”
“You too, honey. Don’t be a stranger now. You can always call me, not only when you want to Facetime Bodie, either.”
“Thanks for making me feel guilty.”
“It’s my job, I’m your mother.” She says sternly but with a hint of playfulness.
I roll my eyes.
“I know you rolled your eyes at me.”
I can’t help but smile. “Goodnight, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
Although the light fluttery feelings lingered for a few minutes after I got off the phone with Mom, the guilt and anxiety started to creep back in once I was alone with my thoughts. So I decided to self-medicate with a bit of Jack Daniels tonight, knowing I’d regret it in the morning.
47
Abigail
“Everyone of my regrets has produced a song I’m proud of”- Taylor Swift
Four weeks after Colt left and I found out the truth about my parents, I finally had fallen into a routine. I’d go to school Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 9-2 p.m., then catch up on homework and study on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends when I had nothing else to do, which was pretty much every weekend. I'd work Friday and Saturday, sometimes Sundays at Shifferes and do it all over again.
I’ve been living with my sister since she was kind enough to let me stay in her guest room after I found out about everything. She had no idea how hard I was working to earn my medical degree, and her husband was a hard worker from the Middle East, so he appreciated how focused I was to make something of myself . I didn’t mind being here, which was a huge relief. Being here and getting to know my niece a lot more was nice. And what a mom's life looked like behind the scenes. Adalee worked just as hard as me, even harder since it entailed a lack of sleep.
On the days I was caught up on all my studies, I would go over to see Cliff. He was still at the lake house, and I preferred going there rather than him coming here. I didn’t want my sister to question what I was doing. I honestly didn’t want anyone to know about the album until it was ready to be presented and released into the world.
I’m not sure if Cliff loved Blake's mom, but there had to be something about that woman he remembered because he knew a lot about production. He was coming up with melodies, creating background music, and finding rhymes and tempos to go along with the lyrics.
I was in awe of how this man brought so much to the table without even knowing it. He knew almost as much about music as he did football.
“I’m not sure. That beat doesn’t seem to fit the lyrics.” I said.