As long as it's a naked private show
That now familiar zing courses through me like it always does when he is being this shamelessly flirty. The most embarrassing little squeak comes out of my mouth.
That's only if you're extra good
Oh I will be so extra good for you, Lyra
This freaking man. I can imagine him saying that in his deep voice, and now my panties are ruined. I'm trying to take things slow, but he is making me want things quickly that I wasn't sure I'd ever want again. I certainly wasn't prepared to want it again so soon. This electric current that always seems to be humming between us, even over text, is nothing I’ve ever felt before. I’ve always felt silly trying to flirt with men, because I’ve never been someone men looked at a whole lot. Taran definitely looks at me, in ways no man has looked at me, and it makes the flirting so delicious.
Shameless
Always. It'salso true, though
*sigh* get some rest, ok? You've had a rough, tiring day. Talk to you tomorrow?
Of course. Have a good night, pretty Firecracker
Goodnight, Taran
Chapter 17
Taran
My neck has the worst crick in it after sleeping in the chair next to my mom's bed all night. I look over and see she's still sleeping, looking comfortable and peaceful. Getting up slowly, trying to work out the crick, I make my way to the bathroom. By the time I come out, my mom is waking up and the nurse is coming in to check on her. Once she confirms her vitals are still all good, she asks for our breakfast choices. Ma is really trying to be a good patient and goes with oatmeal, while I go with eggs and toast. When the nurse leaves, she and I chat about what she needs to change about her lifestyle when she goes home, which of course she is being a little stubborn about. Never tell Evelyn Malloy that she needs to ease up on the heavy Italian food.
The doctor stopped by again last night to see her after Lyra left and said that her health is not at the point where she needs round the clock care at a facility, thank goodness. Ma would have had a meltdown about being pushed to leave her beloved home on top of being scared about her health. She's already mad that I'm missing work for her,even though I have a ton of PTO I can use and my boss is fine with it. I told him yesterday that she was being admitted and I'd be with her until she got discharged.
The fight with Seth is still really weighing on me. He and Sienna have been in touch with my mom to check on her of course, but he hasn't spoken to me and I haven't asked to speak to him. There has always been a little distance with us between our age difference and the distance of him literally living across the country. He even joked one time that he's more like my fun uncle that breezes in once a year to see us all. There have been a few times we've flown out to see him too, if money and time off allowed it, and Cali is gorgeous for sure. I just wish that he and I were closer, and saw each other more. I'd love to see my sister-in-law, niece, and nephew more too. Thank goodness for video chat or I'd be a stranger to them. Some of it is on me to make more of an effort to go out there once a year at least. He and I have so much to talk about once we cool off, and emotions about Ma aren't running so high.
It's a little before lunch when the nurse comes again to give Ma her discharge instructions, go over her medicines, and answer any last minute questions. Before we know it, she's being wheeled out of the hospital and I'm taking her home. I look in the fridge once we get in and get settled, and I start to tear up. Alejandra really came through like I knew she would with some super healthy looking cilantro lime chicken, rice and beans, and several vegetable filled soups. She labeled everything meticulously. I text the family group chat to thank her and everyone else for their well wishes and checking in. Alejandra responds that she'll be coming by to visit as soon as my mom is feeling up to it. I shoot a text to Lyra as well, giving her the basic update that she's discharged and home.
“How about some soup for lunch? Alejandra made enough of her amazing Salvadoran red bean soup to practically swim in.”
“That sounds fantastic, sweetheart,” my mom replies gratefully. I get it heating up and fill us each a glass of water while she situates herself at the table.
“I’m going to need to run home to pack a bag for a few nights. I'll stay in my old room just until you're more recovered. Val will still be here during the day, and then I'll be here at night. I know you'll think it's an imposition, but it's not, so don't even think about arguing with me.” I point at her to emphasize the fact that I will not be hearing anything from her about it. She glares at me as if to say, “do you remember who birthed you, boy?”, but after she gauges that I'm not budging, she nods in resignation. I sit down next to her and take her hand.
“Ma, this is how it goes. You took care of me when I was growing up, and now it's my turn to take care of you as you get older. It's a bizarre and wonderful cycle.”
“You're right, but that doesn't make it any easier, son.” Her face is somber. “I thought that I was finally coming through the haze of grief, and getting so much better after the stroke. I'm actually ready to start living again, and then this happens. It's an emotional setback on top of being a big physical setback. You've been taking care of me just as much as I've been taking care of you since your father passed, and I want to ease that burden. Now you're staying with me instead of living for yourself. Again.”
I squeeze her hand in acknowledgment before I get up to check on the gently bubbling soup. The methodical stirring helps me while I mull over how to make her not feel guilty about me taking care of her. I'm not sure if anything will assuage it. In her mind, she is the parent, and a parentwho "failed" me at that, according to her. She thinks that she should be the one still taking care of me. I thought we had worked through her guilt about all of this a couple of weeks ago, but now having the heart attack has made it come back. I'm at a loss as to how to get through to her while I scoop the soup into bowls, and sprinkle cotija cheese on top. How do you tell your mom to not have mom guilt? How do you make her believe she did the best she could? Being kind yet blunt may get the message across and put a stop to her spiraling. I bring the two bowls over and we start eating while I get the conversation rolling again.
“Nothing that has happened has been your fault. Nothing. Ok? We've been over this. You can't carry this guilt when you have always been an incredible mom. Just concentrate on getting better and resting up, please. That's all you need to worry about. I'm happy to be here for you.” I say this all evenly, with as much conviction as I can to make it get through to her. I get where she's coming from, but it's misguided, and I hate that she feels guilty. She heaves a huge sigh, her shoulders sagging.
“I know, honey. I know you're right. You can't ever turn off the mom guilt, I guess. You have this lovely woman now who drops off top notch Italian food, work is busy, and I just want you to be able to enjoy your life. It is ingrained in me to put your needs above my own. I'm not ready to let this role reversal happen.”
“I get it. I really do. We'll figure all of this out, there is a lot of change happening at once. I'm happy to take care of you though, ok? I'll make time for everything else too, I'm getting better at balancing things.” I boop her nose play- fully to get her to laugh and help soften things. I've done it since I was little, when I realized it would make her crack up without fail. She gives me a laugh this time like I knewshe would, and the mood lightens. We finish up our soup making potential plans for having the Hernandez crew over soon for an Italian feast once she feels better. It hits me as we're chatting that I haven't told her yet about what I want to study when I go back to school. After I tell her about my plan to become a CNA or an occupational therapy assistant, she beams.
“I’m a little biased, honey, but I think you can do anything.”
“Motherly bias aside, do you think I am cut out to do this? Go back to school for something completely different? I didn't even go to college, so I may have a lot of catching up to do. It's intimidating.”
“Of course it is. Don't let a little intimidation stop you, though. I can see how passionate about it you are already.”
“That's what Lyra said when I told her about it.” I say it with a soft smile, the same smile that saying her name always brings out. The way she showed up, charmed my mom, distracted me with shameless flirting and stolen kisses, made the mess of a day much more bearable. Even though she couldn't stay too long, not feeling completely alone was beyond words. Sure, Val offered to stay, but she had done enough and deserved a day off that Seth is absolutely paying for.
“Clearly she gets you, then. That's important.” She looks wistful. “That's all I want for both you and Seth. I want you both to have partners who get you. Your father understood me better than anyone. Sienna is a godsend for Seth. Now I hope it's your turn.”