Cinders

~80~ Coming Back

It's been a month and if anything, mom has only gotten worse. She does her job, comes home, and just exists... that's it.

Dad is beside himself. He's constantly calling and texting her, but it doesn't do any good. Even he can't snap her out of it.

"You ready to go to mom's champ?" Dad asks in a strained voice.

"No. I've got to go, though. Taylor is going to lunch with his sister, and we don't want her to be home by herself. He needs to leave by noon, so I've gotta go." I say, grabbing my keys and slipping on my shoes.

"I don't understand how she can still work, and do her job correctly like this," dad says.

"I have no idea. Taylor said it's the weirdest thing. It's like she literally flips a switch, and just does her job. Everybody can tell a difference, but she's not letting it affect her work."

"Hmmm. Well, give her a kiss for me."

"Ok," I say as I leave.

~*~

Once Taylor gets back from lunch with his sister, mom is doing some yoga in the living room. He shuts the door quietly (we learned the hard way that we have to do that now) and makes his footsteps heavy so mom knows he's here. We also can't talk without her knowing we're in the room, or she hyperventilates.

Mom sees him and smiles. "How's Lilah?" She asks, shutting off the yoga on the tv.

"She's good! She got a new job as a realtor, and she's loving it. Just sold her first house."

"Good! I miss her—It's been a long time." She says as she gets up and goes to the kitchen to get a drink. Taylor and I just stare at each other. That was the most she's talked in a month.

Maybe she is getting better.

~*~

That night was the worst night terror I've ever seen her have. It was so bad, that she literally punches Taylor in the face. He immediately yells in pain as he wipes the blood off of the cut on his lip that's already swelling.

"Jeesh. You need ice!" I say, trying to get mom to calm down.

"Later. Let's get her calm before she hurts herself. This is a bad one," he groans as he rubs his lip.

It takes us half an hour. HALF AN HOUR to get her to go back to sleep. After she has quit screaming, we go out to the kitchen.

Taylor immediately goes to the freezer and gets ice.

"Dude, that looks awful—How bad does it hurt?" I ask... His lip is at least double the size that it should be.

"It kills. I'm gonna have to take some Tylenol," he says.

Taylor never complains—This must be really hurting if he admits to it.

"I have to tell her tomorrow, Liam. We can't keep doing this. She's going to hurt herself one of these days—Not to mention that this just isn't healthy. For any of us," he says, putting the ice on his lip and looking at me.

I nod. "At the risk of sounding like a complete dick, would it be ok if I get up early and go to dad's?"

He tilts his head in confusion.

"First, I can't be around for that—My heart is broken for her as it is. Second, I don't want her to know that I know. If I'm here when you tell her, it's gonna kill her."

Taylor simply nods. "I get it—It's all good," he says, punching my shoulder lightly as he goes to get Tylenol.

~*~