Teach Me, Mr Way

chapter 16

The morning of my birthday started out like any other day. I woke up, came upstairs and staggered for the coffee pot. The last week of late nights with Gerard had caught up with me, not that I was complaining.

This was different than when I stayed up late with Mom. I felt loved, wanted. We didn't make love again, even though I tried to get him to, but he said he wanted to wait until we could be together at his place, without worrying that Mikey or their mom would come walking in on us.

It hadn't registered with me that it was awfully quiet for that time of morning. Mrs. Way wasn't in the kitchen, and Mikey and Gee weren't playfully arguing about something involving music or art. “What the hell…”

I finally found them out front, speaking with a police officer. No one realized I was there yet. I heard Mrs. Way talking to him.

“She did what?! Oh, god, this is going to devastate him… and on his birthday…” The police officer suddenly noticed me, a saddened look on his face. I knew. My coffee mug slipped from my hand, landing in the grass. I shook my head. This wasn't happening. The officer came up to me.

“I'm sorry for your loss, young man. Your mother… it was ruled as an accident. She slipped as she was getting into the shower and hit her head. With the toll that the alcohol and drugs took on her body, she just never woke up.”

“No…” My face drained of color, and I fell to my knees, not sure if I was going to pass out or not. I couldn't cry. Not yet. Not until I was alone. Gerard knelt down by me and hugged me close.

“It'll be okay, Frankie. We'll get through this, okay? Mom and Mikey and I will be here with you. We're not going to let you go through it alone.” His soft reassurance was enough to make the floodgates to crumble, and I started to cry, my face hidden against his chest. The officer apologized and left.

I felt myself being picked up almost bridal style. Gerard carried me down to my room and gently laid me down, tucking me in and cuddling me close.

“I never got a chance to tell her I loved her, Gee. She died there all alone and I didn't visit her yet this week.”

“Frankie, baby, it's not your fault. You've been busy with school work and getting ready to take your finals early. She knew you loved her, and she was proud of you.”

“But…”

“No buts. You are a strong, smart, talented young man, Frankie. And I love you so much for being you.”

The rest of the week was a blur. The funeral, tests, and packing up the old house took up my every waking moment, but Gee was by me the whole time, helping me through it all.

By Christmas, things were almost normal… almost, but I couldn't seem to find it in me to work on my portfolio. It was almost like that fire had burned out, and I didn't know how to relight it. Gerard and I had gone out to the restaurant where we'd gone after the art show, and I think he knew something was wrong with me.

“Frankie, talk to me. I know that you are having a hard time, but I want to help…” I sighed, looking down at the table.

“I can't do it…”

“Do what, baby?” He reached across the table and took my hand into his.

“I haven't been able to get myself to do anything art related. I can't look at the paper and see what I want to draw or paint like I used to. I feel like it's payback for letting mom down.” He squeezed my hand.

“Babe, you are being too hard on yourself. You never once let her down. You took care of her when she couldn't.”

“But she was all alone in the detox center and I wasn't there to help her!” A few people looked over at my raised voice, and I take a deep breath to calm down. “I… I'm sorry…” I ducked my head, trying hard to not panic. “Gee, what if I don't get it back? What happens if I can't do it and I lose my scholarship? I don't have the money to pay for it on my own… I'm scared, Gee.” He reached across the table and took my hand, sighing softly.

“We'll get through this, okay. You've had a hell of a lot to deal with, baby, and it's going to mess with you. I actually felt like this when my grandma passed. She was the reason I first found an outlet in art and music. When she died… I couldn't look at my sketchbook and pencils for a few months.”

“So this… this is normal?”

“Sure is. People grieve in different ways… sometimes it's just too much for your creative side to be able to handle.” I sighed, looking at our joined hands.

“I wish…” I started to cry. Again. I felt like it was all I was doing. I wanted the pain to go away, I wanted… I just wanted to be myself again. I wanted to be happy.

I got up and went out the door, not hearing him come after me. It was as if I was in a fog, and couldn't see or hear anything. That was the state I was in when they found me. I never knew what hit me.