Lesson Learned {Student Teacher Romance}

Chapter 46

"Come on in!" My mom's voice floats over my light knocking. "I'm decent!"

I sucked in a breath and turn the knob to let myself inside.

Her room is more spacious than our living room at home with a private bathroom and a small kitchenette, almost like a nice suite in a hotel. Except that this is a long-term rehabilitation facility and everything kind of smells like faded potpourri and rubbing alcohol.

My mom was on her way to answer the door with a wide smile that melts into astonishment when she sees me.

"Moira!" She exclaims and rushes forward.

My mom throws her arms around me in a welcoming hug, while I quietly reel. I don't know what I was expecting to see, but it wasn't the healthy, fresh-faced woman in front of me.

She's dressed, and her hair is styled, and she smells like she's wearing perfume (which I definitely didn't pack for her).

"Hi, mom," I mumble into her shoulder. "Wow, you look great."

"Aw, thanks, Moira," my mom squeezes me a little tighter before letting me go to gesture at her room. "Welcome! Do you like it?"

Sunlight is streaming through the window over her full-size bed, highlighting the lovely décor of her room. The furniture is a mixture of antiques and modern pieces in earthen tones that match the walls.

"It's beautiful," I smile. "Do you like it here?"

"I love it," my mom giggles. "I love it here, Moira."

"Good," it hurts to keep my lips bent upward. "I'm so glad."

My mom walks over to her bed and plops down to pat the space next to her.

"What's going on, Moira?" She asks.

I'm about to sit down when I point at something that catches my eye on her nightstand.

"Where did you get that photo of us?" I asked, gaping at the small, framed photo.

I'm about seven in the picture and we're at the park sitting in a pile of leaves. It was after my dad died and before my mom started popping pills.

I don't remember the park or taking that photo, but I do remember the way she used to smile before all the drugs. She still had a flicker of the old her in there that would come out every so often.

Actually, now that I'm in my twenties, I can see a lot of similarities between us that I hadn't recognized before. 

Strange the details you're able to notice with a little perspective.

"It was in my wallet," my mom smiles and reaches over to pick it up. "It's the only photo I had of us when I got here. Hye got me the frame when she saw that I had it taped up over my bed."

I fight against the tears pricking my lashes. She must have had that picture in her wallet the day the police picked her up and took her to the hospital.

"Do you think you could bring me more pictures when you come back on Christmas?" She asks. "I sure do like having them around so I can brag about you."

My mom's hand comes up to gently pet the back of my hair.

"Yeah," I take a death breath to steady my shaky voice. "I can do that."

"I'm so glad you came, honey," she rests her arm over my shoulder but I can't seem to relax. Like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I know it's going to take a long time to prove it to you, but I'm really sorry."

I want to be optimistic, but I've heard her say that before.

"You almost died, mom," I choke out the words.

"Oh, honey," my mom folds me into a tight embrace. She's so thin that I can feel her bones under her clothes, and I can't hold back my tears anymore. "I know I really scared you. I'm so sorry for putting you through that."

I cry into her emaciated shoulder and try not to squeeze her too hard. Fear and anger and confusion and so many other conflicting emotions are fraying what's left of my raw nerves.

"I'm sorry that I put you through that so many times," my mom sighs heavily. "I'm so sorry for letting you down, every chance I got. I've been so selfish and so reckless and so hard to live with."

"It wasn't a prison sentence," I sniffle.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a party," my mom chuckles. "I am so lucky that you took after your dad. He was smart and driven and responsible and talented and so, so giving. You took care of me all those years when it should have been the other way around."

"Why-?" I can't even finish my question I'm crying so hard. "Why-?"

"Why what, honey?"

"Why did you take so many pills?" I sob and collapse into her lap.

My mom rubs my back in slow circles as I breathe in the scent of her. I came so close to losing that smell.

She's quiet for a long time. Long enough for me to think that I shouldn't have asked that.

"I didn't want to face the consequences of what I'd done," my mom says finally. "And I was too high to realize how many pills I took. I knew it was a lot when everything started to spin, so I went for a walk. The last thing I remember was crying to some stranger about your sewing machine and how bad I screwed up."

I cringe into her skeletal legs thinking about how frightened and alone she must have felt. She almost froze to death in the process of overdosing.

"I'm so sorry for what I did, Moira," she continues. "I know that doesn't make up for it, though. So, I'm going to get a job and I'm going to buy you a new sewing machine, I promise."

"It's just a thing, mom," I shudder involuntarily. "I don't care about the sewing machine because I can replace a thing. What I can't replace, is you. I need you."

"You don't need me anymore, sweetheart," my mom coos. "You have your own life to lead, and I will be a part of it however you want, but I don't want you to think that we're going to go back to life like it was."

I sit up straight and push my tear-dampened hair out of my face to stare at her.

"What do you mean?" I press my palms into my eye sockets.

"I mean, it's time for both of us to heal and move on from the past," she smiles. "I mean what I said about getting a job. I've signed up for professional classes and Serenity Rose is going to help me find work, and they're going to help me find housing near that job."

"What about our house?" I sniff.

"I was thinking we could sell it," my mom shrugs. "We could split the sale, which might be enough to get me started in a small apartment. I know it's not much, but it could contribute a little something to your college education."

I'm too shocked to really answer one way or the other, so I blink more tears out of my eyes while processing all the possibilities.

"It's just an idea, honey," she pats my leg. "And I've got five months left in the program here, so we don't have to make any decisions right away."

I nod and study my mom's face. Her caramel eyes are shining and the stress lines have faded away. She sounds and looks lighter as if a huge weight has been lifted off her chest.

"But there is one thing you can do for me," she says.

"What's that?" I breathe.

"Let Will in," my mom answers with a perceptive smile. "If I could teach you anything, if there's one lesson that I've learned in all my many mistakes, it's that we all need help. Lean on the people that love you, Moira, because there are a lot of us, and we want to help you succeed. That man cares for you, Moira, deeply. He wants to make your life better, and you deserve to be happy. I know I've lied to you too many times for you to believe me, but please don't let that taint how you approach every relationship in your life. Let that man in and let yourself fall in love."

With nothing left to say and everything to still work through, I fall back into her arms for another tearful hug.

I know it won't always be rosy on the road to recovery for my mom, but for the first time in a long time, I have real hope.