Page 60 of Shamed
I grunt in response as I remove her jacket and hang both hers and mine up. “Isn’t it unprofessional to flirt with a resident’s son while you’re working?” Leaning down, I place one arm under her knees and another around her back. “Bed or chair?”
“Bed, please.”
I lift her light frame, carrying her to the bed and laying her down on the mattress, then prop her up with some pillows to make sure she’s comfortable.
Mom no longer has use of her legs, and she finds it hard to move her arms most days, but she still manages to move them in small gestures.
Her hand lands on top of mine while I’m pulling the blanket up. “She can’t help it if my son is the most handsome and kindest man in here.”
“Hmm.” I reach for the remote on her side table, turning on the TV before handing it to her and avoiding her gaze.
“You don’t agree?”
Lips pursing, I fix the blanket at her feet, the news playing on the TV in the background. “Well, I’ve barely said two words to her. She doesn’t know me at all.”
I take a seat on the chair close to Mom’s bed, and her warm brown eyes brush over my face, not looking away. “You haven’t let anyone get close to you in years, Mase.”
“Why do I need someone close to me?”
She sighs. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but Mase, you’ve never had a girlfriend.”
I reach for a water bottle and twist the top off, completely uncomfortable with this conversation. Mom seems to have two settings these days: one where she’s happy to talk about anything else in the world, or this one, where she focuses entirely on me and my lack of companionship.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“You’ve never even told me about a girl you might be interested in,” she says, ignoring my comment. I tip the bottle of water and swallow some down my parched throat. “At one point, I thought it might have been because you liked men, and it’s okay if you did, but I haven’t seen you look at any, and you don’t hang around any guys, either. At least not since high school.”
Water splutters out of my mouth as I choke. “Jesus, Mom. I don’t like men.”
Her eyes soften further. “I just worry about you.”
“Because I don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend?” I ask, wiping my sleeve over my wet chin.
“Because you don’t haveanyone.”
“I have you.” I stand, walking over to her window. Mom’s room has a view of a small courtyard that gets filled with plants and flowers come springtime. It’s cloudy today, so the space looks gloomy, but at least it’s not snowing.
“That’s different. I’m your mother, and I’m not always going to be around.”
Spinning to face her again, I fold my arms across my chest. “Where is this coming from?”
She looks so frail laying there in bed, gray hair starting to streak her temples while lines are making shallow grooves around her eyes. But I know there is a strong woman underneath who has fought through a lot in her life.
Mom has surprised many of her doctors and is doing quite well considering.
Her eyes drift past me to the window, a faraway look on her face. “I worry that I messed you up with my issues.”
My heart pinches and I return to the side of her bed, sitting on the edge. “You didn’t, Mom. None of it is because of you. I’m . . .”Fucked up? Not normal?“I’m just not looking for anyone right now.”
“You’re twenty-eight, honey. It’s not that I think you should be married with kids already. But as I said, you’ve never hadanyone. You haven’t let anyone close since you were thirteen. I just don’t want you to be lonely.”
“I’m not.”
I’ve convinced myself of that over the years. Convinced myself that I’m happy with my solitary life. Because someone like me—
“Are you sure? I know you spend time helping others—helping women—especially after what happened with Jacob.” I turn away at that, my jaw clenching. “And it’s a beautiful thing you do; it really is, Mase. But I hope it’s not because you’re trying to fix something you didn’t do.” She lays her hand on my leg. “Just filling your life with everythingbutfriendships and relationships. You put everyone else first, but never yourself.”
Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I rest my hand on top of hers and squeeze, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, Mom. I am.” She doesn’t look convinced, and she opens her mouth as if to say something else, but then she gives a resigned look which tells me she’ll drop it for now.
