When Worlds Conclude - WWC3

18; Poise, wine, and scrambled eggs

Violet

My entire life my mother had always be on. Up every morning before 7:30 and dressed like she had just walked out of a Vogue magazine. Even when she was doing humane things like gardening or cleaning or walking off a 12 hour flight. She even looked perfect sleeping. My mother was tight lipped and even more tightly dressed. She was organised and she knew her way around every single event like it was nobody's business.

As a child growing up in a home (if you could call the club that) prepped perfectly by my mother left no room for creativity or imagination. I never had a chance at a childhood. From day one I attended the most prestige kindergarten and my 'play' times would consist of music lessons and browsing the library, when I wasn't roaming around the other rooms of the country club. I found out exactly the kind of person my mother was from a very young age and I struggled with it. For a very long time.

I guess what I didn't realise was that, like every other human, she had her weaknesses. I never understood why, but my father was hers. I used to think my mother was superwoman. My drawings of her at school always had her with wings and a planner, because that's how I saw her. She could do anything. She could convince anyone to do anything, she could pick out the perfect patterns and make a room look amazing, she looked beautiful all the time, how could she have any weaknesses? How could anyone not be afraid of her?

I never really understood my parent's relationship. My entire life any form of love seemed to be absent between them both. They seemed to have more of a business relationship, they ran the club and sorted out money and inventories and all the really boring technical stuff. They rarely had dates, and if they did other people came along, or me. Then there were the beatings, which I never understood. And I still don't. I never understood why mum, my mum the superwoman, let them happen. Why she stayed. 

But he was her weakness. Like every other girl in love with a boy. She loved him, she always would. And I guess I didn't realise just how much until now.

"Can I get you anything, mum? Some water, tea, coffee?" 

My mother, a statue since I had arrived, doesn't say anything. Just continues to stare ahead at the wall. She no longer looks poised and immaculate, she just looks exhausted. Like a lifetime of exhaustion has finally caught up to her and it's completely worn her down.

I had driven in as soon as I got the call from one of our maids. The whole ordeal had been rather stressful as Zayn, Abby and Dylan were all fussing over me and asking too many questions for me to handle. I just knew that I had to leave as soon as possible so with a million apologies I did.

And I don't know what would've happened if I had come any later. My mother had completely shut down, something I didn't think she could ever do. I didn't think someone like her even had an off switch. But this was the epitome of her weakness, the reveal of her love. I realise, just now, that everything my mother was was because of my father. She's nothing but an empty shell now.

"Mum, you have to eat something," I try again. She'd barely said anything to me since I arrived about an hour or so ago. Just sat there on the couch, wrinkled red dress and her pinned up hair starting to fall out. And the wine bottle in her hands. Her makeup was running and every so often a silent tear would roll down her cheek, staining her face with black mascara. 

I stand up and head to the kitchen, getting one of the chefs to make me something for her to eat. The maid had filled me in on what had happened, a heart attack apparently. Very sudden, no one saw it coming. He was in his office and the maid had just come up to fetch him some coffee, the next second he was on the floor. My mother was out at a meeting.

"How are you doing?" Marcos, a chef who had been working here since I was 11, asks me with a sympathetic smile. 

"It's her I'm worried about," I reply, thanking him as he hands me a cup of coffee. "I've never seen her like this before."

He nods. "It's terrible. Same thing happened to my mama when my papa died. She couldn't handle it, completely shut down. Never been the same since."

"I just ... this isn't her. This has never been her. She doesn't handle death like this, she was always the good one. Always the organiser. She planned her mother's funeral in two days, her brother's in three. She doesn't feel pain like this. You know?"

Marcos just looks at me, giving me a sad smile. "It's different this time, cara mia. Your mama has just lost her partner, her confidant. Her one true love. She may never be the same again." He slides me a plate of scrambled eggs. "Comfort food, si?"

I force a smile. "Thanks, Marcos." 

"Not a problem. My deepest apologies, Miss Violet."

I take the plate and walk back into the guest room where mum still sits. I try and hand her the plate but she won't take it, so I bend down in front of her.

"Mum," I try. "Mum, you need to eat."

"He's gone," she whispers.

"I know," I say. "I'm so sorry."

Another silent tear.

"You need to eat okay?" I scrape up some eggs onto the fork and hold it to her mouth. "Come on, a few bites. Mum?"

It takes her a few tries but eventually she's opening her mouth and letting me feed her. I manage to give her half the plate before she turns away, drinking more wine. 

I put the plate down and grab her hand. "Mum, what's going to happen to the club?"

She blinks for a bit and drinks the last of her wine. That must be a reason to move because she gets up to go and fetch some more. "It's over," is all she says before she leaves. "Everything we know is over. He's gone. He's gone forever."

I sigh. I had no idea what to do. I had never been in control of anything about this life, and suddenly I had to make all the decisions. Before I can let my head spin anymore my phone starts to ring.

I expect it to be Dylan so I go to decline, I really don't feel like talking to anyone right now. But then I see that it's Zayn, and I'm somewhat relieved. I answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, thank god you picked up. Is everything okay? How are you doing? How's your mum?" He talks so fast I can barely hear a word he's saying.

"Woah," I say. "Slow down."

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. I just ... Violet, are you okay?"

I feel myself sigh. "I really don't know. My mum isn't, that's for sure. She's completely shut down and I've never seen her like this before. It's like without my dad she's nothing at all."

"Do you need help with all of this? You can't do this on your own. I can help you. I'll be out there first thing in the morning if you need me to."

"Zayn, I can't just ask you to drop everything-"

"I'm not dropping anything. I'm the manager of the bar, I can do whatever I want. Do you need me there?"

"But what about Abby?"

"She'll understand. Violet, do you want me there?"

I close my eyes for a second. I couldn't deny that as soon as I stepped through this door I wished Zayn was beside me. There's something about him that just calms me, puts me at ease. He's comfortable and familiar and shit, I really needed him right now. "Yes," I say finally. "Please."

"I'll be there first thing in the morning."