Chapter 7: Fraught
My hand shook as I held the phone to my ear and counted each dial tone like they were seconds to midnight. Junior had perched himself on my shoulder and started patting my neck, which I appreciated, but I desperately wished that he could just put me back into another euphoric daze even if we both knew that was a bad idea. What if this all went wrong? What if Dad wasn’t as forthcoming as he’d seemed? What if—despite finally feeling an iota of motivation and sympathy toward the man—all of this blew up in my face like an angry, anxious Electrode? I shouldn’t have expected to have a handle on my feelings so quickly. That would’ve been too easy.
Happy! Happy! Junior’s emotions urged me onward. I could tell he was extra adamant on making me feel better because there wasn’t a tinge of fear bleeding through; he was going all in! I took another deep breath and let his happiness guide me.
“Thanks Junior,” I returned his pats with my one free hand. “I’m really grateful for your—“
“Hello.”
I squeaked in surprise at the sound of my father’s deep, stoic voice booming through my phone speaker. “Crap!!”
“U-uh,” I scrambled my thoughts together and swallowed a cough, sifting anxiously through greetings until I quickly settled on a timid and rushed “Hello!” Junior gripped the side of my neck in anticipation, his presence in my head taking a backseat to my thoughts seemingly out of respect for the conversation that was about to ensue.
“How’s your morning been?” Dad replied calmly as if the frantic nature of my greeting unfazed him.
“It’s uh—it’s been alright, I guess.” He wouldn’t care to know any more than that. I shook off the wayward thought, nearly chastising my brain for trying to jump to conclusions when we’d only just begun to talk. Junior stepped back in with another subtle wave of calm, a softly glowing horn poking itself into my peripheral.
“Glad to hear,” he replied. “Mom told me about your rescue yesterday, and I wanted to preface our conversation by telling you how proud I am of your bravery. Saving a Pokémon in need is an action of the highest admirability, and for that you should be proud of yourself.”
“Thank you…?” His words had struck me like a bat to the face. That was really, really nice of him.
“Of course, Rhys. My only wish is that you’re more careful in the future. Poochyena bites can cause nasty infections even when treated, so you must approach them with more caution. Your Ralts is at a higher risk of injury when battling them as well, so I’d suggest treading lightly if you encounter any in the woods again.”
I sighed. “There he goes again…” I knew I couldn’t escape getting some sort of Dad lecture; he wasn’t one to hold off on being blunt, even if it came from a good place.
“Wait…” an epiphany struck me. “How did you know about the Poochyena?” I could’ve sworn I never told anyone what attacked me, or maybe I’d just forgotten I told Mom? I rubbed my forehead in confusion. It’d been a long 24 hours.
“Educated guess,” Dad quickly replied. “Poochyena are natural predators of Ralts because of the latter’s type disadvantage. They’re quite easy prey for them, especially with how weak they start off.”
“I see…” I muttered. I resented the idea that Junior could be thought of as weak. He’d already shown so much potential! Those clumsy dogs wouldn’t stand a chance the next time we encountered them!
Distrust? Junior’s feelings slowly crept back to the surface. The emotion didn’t feel aimed at me, but rather at my Dad’s words lingering in my mind; he wanted to know why they felt so demeaning toward him.
“He doesn’t want you to get hurt,” I assured him mentally. “I don’t think he thinks you’re weak, just… a bit unprepared. But we’ll get stronger!” I looked at him and nodded determinedly. “I promise!”
Faith… Junior’s thoughts calmed as he gently smiled and nodded back. I took a mental note to be more careful about how I processed Dad’s words; Junior could only read into my interpretations of others’ when they weren’t physically present. If my own resentment coated genuine comments then I might give him even more trust issues than myself! I leaned my ear back onto my phone. “Empaths are a handful…”
“Hello?”
“Y-yes sir,” I stammered awkwardly, embarrassed that I’d left Dad hanging. “I’ll be much more careful in the future!”
“No need to be so formal, haha,” Dad politely replied. “I know it’s been a while…” his voice trailed off while his own awkward silence took its place. I scratched the back of my head and cringed; I could imagine he was doing the same.
“So,” he piped back in with a tinge of enthusiasm. “How’s it doing? Your Ralts?”
“U-Uh…” I turned to look at Junior. His eyes peered out from in between his bangs, staring anxiously at me as if he was trying so hard not to hit me with another blast of calm. I sent him praise through a thought: “I know it’s hard. Thank you.”
“He’s doing okay,” I finally replied through a shaky breath. “He’s been recovering from the incident really well too.” I gently smiled at Junior. “I’m really proud of him.” Junior squeaked softly in happiness and returned my feelings of pride, enveloping my mind with what felt like a tiny, warm hug.
“So it’s a male…” Dad replied with intrigue. “And if I may confirm, you found it alone? Were there any others around?” I was still shocked at how easily he’d been guessing all the details. The man had a crazy good intuition!
“Y-yeah, he’s a boy. And no,” I looked at Junior remorsefully. “There weren’t any other Ralts around, at least not that I can recall.”
“I see…” Faint sounds of scribbling echoed through the speaker. “A lone Ralts in Fairview Woods… fascinating…!”
“That reminds me,” I nervously piped up. “Are Ralts even native to here? I mean I know they aren’t seen very often, but I feel like I would’ve read if they were!”
“No.”
I cringed at the bluntness of Dad’s reply. You knew that already. Why did you ask?
Nervous… Nervous…! I could feel Junior getting a bit too riled up as my anxiety welled. I quickly collected myself with a deep breath. “We’re good! We’re good, buddy…”
“The volume of predators on Fairview is much too high,” Dad quickly continued. “Even if a sizable Ralts population were to have existed before the past twenty or so years, the introduction of invasive species such as Poochyena would’ve snuffed out any colonies in mere months. Their sense of smell is nothing short of impeccable and Hoenn breeds are highly attuned to the scent and energy of psychic types. You were lucky to have saved him at all, if I’m being honest.”
“Holy shit…” I whispered with a hand over my mouth. I thought back to what Nurse Joy had said: how Junior had most likely been running and hiding in fear for nearly all of his short life. How terrifying must that’ve been for him, knowing that you were all alone in a place you weren’t meant to be, starved and fatigued while being hunted down by the very thing built to feast on your brethren insatiably. As annoyed as I was at my screwed-up knee, it really was a drop in the bucket in comparison.
Okay…?
“I’m okay! Just… know that I’m not gonna let anything happen to you ever, okay?” I gave Junior a look of solemn determination. No matter how long it took, I was going to help him get stronger, even if I was stuck lying in bed all day.
Faith! Junior’s smile quickly quelled any worries I may’ve had about how he’d interpreted my thoughts. Of course he knew my sentiments!
“Anyways,” Dad continued after another few moments of feverish scribbling. “I feel it’s best I put my own curiosities to the side for now. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to give you some advice about training your Ralts. I think it’s imperative that you understand its potential as well as the dangers that may befall you if you don’t.”
“Oooookay…?” I hesitantly squeaked. Did he really have to put things so ominously? I wanted to inquire why, but the lump that’d formed in my throat forced me to swallow my concerns.
“Great!” his voice suddenly beamed with enthusiasm, catching me wildly off guard. “First off, Ralts is one of the most highly empathic and impressionable species of Pokémon! As I’m sure you’ve already experienced, they tend to imprint only upon humans who they’re positive they can trust. If yours didn’t, it would’ve teleported away the instant it could’ve. You really are fortunate, Rhys!”
“Yeah, right…” I thought, furrowing my brow. It still irked me in an oddly embarrassing way being reminded by others of either how lucky I was or how brave I’d been; not even Junior’s positive reinforcement could fully eradicate the doubt that still lingered in the back of my mind. “I’m glad you think that…”
“Of course! Because of its empathic capabilities, the connections a Ralts can have with its trainer run much deeper than with most Pokémon. If trained with love and care, trainers can achieve a level of synchronicity with them that’s unmatched! It’s as if each can develop such an inherent understanding of each other’s thoughts that they can forgo standard communication and operate entirely on instinct!” Dad’s excitement was so palpable I almost felt embarrassed listening. He sure made it sound like I’d stumbled onto a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, but the thoughts of what he was yet to tell me made me feel wary.
“That’s… cool and all,” I awkwardly cut him off before he could ramble more. “But uh, what’s the catch?”
“Well,” Dad’s tone suddenly turned stern. “As with all psychics, there are many drawbacks. The human mind can easily be inhibited, manipulated, or even permanently damaged by unruly, untrained psychic probing. It’s extremely important that you and your Ralts establish boundaries when it comes to the usage of its abilities. A Ralts’ standard telepathy shouldn’t cause any harm, but their sensitive nature makes them prone to impulse; if a Ralts doesn’t have a good handle over its own powers and becomes too greatly perturbed or overwhelmed, an outburst can be highly damaging to both it and its trainer’s inner cerebral function—“
“Can you please slow down?” I meekly pleaded with a whine. He’d been talking so fast I could barely follow, but what I had caught sent a wave of anxiety piercing through my stomach. “Can you repeat that in simpler terms, please…?”
“Ah, my apologies,” he replied with an oddly relatable awkwardness. “Basically what I’m saying is that you and your Ralts need to be transparent with one another. Acting as a calming voice to a budding psychic is important in ensuring both its health and yours, especially with how responsive a Ralts is to emotions. I don’t want either of you to encounter any conflict, or worse, hurt yourselves.”
“U-Understood,” I nodded. I heard Junior whine as he began leaning his head a bit more into my free ear. The lil guy must’ve felt just as nervous as me, but for some reason I couldn’t quite feel if he did. Was he holding himself back because of what Dad had said?
“Are you okay?” I asked through my thoughts. It felt a bit odd being the one asking him that question, especially after how much he’d beamed the same kind of concernedly curious emotion into my head, but I didn’t want him to feel like he needed to hide!
Nervous… his anxiety cautiously trickled into my head as he put his hands over his eyes. Hesitant…
“You’re not hurting me!” I assured him and tapped my temple, my suspicions further confirmed by the swirling mass of guilt that underlied his emotions. “Dad said your standard telepathy isn’t harmful! That means the stuff you’ve been doing—the way you send me emotions and all that—it won’t hurt me!” I instilled my thoughts with confidence and continued: “I know I felt a bit scared there, but I promise Dad didn’t say anything bad about the way you talk to me.” I parted his hands from his face and looked him right in the eyes. “I trust you.”
Junior wobbly smiled. Remorseful! Faith!
“You’re fine, you’re fine,” I patted his head and gently smiled. “I overthink things too…”
“Already practicing telepathy, aren’t you two?”
“Uh—yeah!” I quickly put my phone back to my ear. “Could you tell?” Was he psychic or something?! That was about the third hard read he’d gotten on me in the span of a few minutes!
“Just another educated guess,” he politely replied. “At first I thought your silence was because of some sort of service issue since Fairview’s woods don’t treat phone signals too kindly, but your Ralts’ faint squeaks led me to deduce you two were engaging in conversation!” I sighed in embarrassment at his childlike enthusiasm, wondering if that’s how I might sound when I got all passionate. I heard Junior quietly snicker; at least someone found it amusing!
“Glad you could tell,” I muttered, still unsure of how to talk to my own father properly with all his tone switching. As… informative as his insight had been, I still had so many questions I needed to ask, and I was a tad bit scared that I’d somehow end up missing my chance.
“Hey, uh,” I relaxed my back and leaned forward, pressing the phone tightly to my ear. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Of course! I’m happy to answer any questions you may have.”
I gulped and rubbed my throat. Why did I suddenly feel so choked up? I’d already broken down one barrier, so why’d it feel like another was slowly being built in front of me? Maybe you should just figure everything out yourself.
Rhys! Calm!
I nodded, hyping myself up internally as each inquiry festered inside my brain. This wasn’t hard. It didn’t need to be hard. Even if it was Dad that I had to ask—the one person I felt both intense respect and dismay for—he was the one person who may have the answers I coveted.
Confident!!
“So, u-uh, do you happen to know anything about people having weirdly vivid dreams after meeting a psychic type?” I lightly exhaled. “That wasn’t so bad…”
Silence echoed through the phone for a moment, followed by more rapid scribbling.
“I’m assuming you’ve had some?”
“Well—yeah, actually,” I breathed slowly to calm my rapidly beating heart. “I mean they might just be coincidental or something. I’ve been a little stressed recently, s-so my brain might just be going a bit crazy at night, haha…” I focused my eyes on the floor below me, tracing each seam and crack in an attempt to calm my flaring nerves. Junior carefully nudged my mind as if he were asking if it was okay to help and I quickly accepted, his calming presence slowly soothing me while I collected myself.
“No, do go on,” Dad’s voice urged. “How vivid were they?”
“They were…” I closed my eyes and fought to remember those feelings: bits and pieces of infantile fear; the sensation of rain soaking my weakened figure while I ran from… something; and a desperate, powerful scream blasting outward from my mind. Each fragment was hazy as if they were slowly being buried, but they were all still there.
“It was like I was living through someone—something’s memories,” I continued as I rubbed my forehead. “It definitely wasn’t human and every time I try to recall their feelings it all feels so… familiar.” I groaned, realizing that I was grasping at memories and feelings that were no longer there. “But for some reason I just can’t remember what I was. I thought I did, but I just… can’t. A-Anyways,” I quickly stopped myself from rambling, “they felt real, like they weren’t actually dreams at all, and no matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about them…” It felt so unnervingly odd being vulnerable around Dad, but I couldn’t bottle this up anymore, and if anyone could even attempt to rationalize the irrational it was certainly him.
More scribbling, then the drop of a pen. “And I’m assuming these strange dreams have occurred more than once?” Another bland, serious reply. I took a deep breath.
“Y-Yeah.” My breathing slowly calmed. What little fear remained was being mostly suppressed by Junior, who’d leaned himself squarely against my neck, the warmth of his front horn heating the hair above my ear.
“Interesting…” Dad paused for a moment as he seemingly reflected upon what I’d just told him. A small tinge of fear flared in my throat. He didn’t sound condescending, but what if he secretly thought I was crazy? I braced myself for the possibility, clenching my teeth in anticipation as each of his words began to flow through the speaker like drops of molten lava:
“Your Ralts… have you asked him about this?”
My thoughts went blank. “Have I—about the dreams?”
“Of course. I’m sure he’s been able to sense your confliction seeing as he must already have a deep connection with you. Even though minds are practically an open book to them, Ralts have been known to not probe directly if the root of their trainer’s emotions are masked by a desire for privacy.”
“Wait, duh!” an epiphany struck me. I knew Junior could read into my mind whenever he wanted—or rather he was forced to by nature—but I didn’t think he could sense everything! Had he really been holding himself back from bringing some things up out of respect?
“Wait—urf!” Junior’s head clumsily smothered my face after I turned mine. His focus broke, the feelings of calm quickly dissipating from my mind as he propped himself up and apologetically patted around my cheeks. Apologetic!!
“I’m good, I’m good!” I chuckled assuredly. My mirth quickly faded into awkwardness as we locked gazes. “But… did you know about all this?”
Junior’s shoulders slightly slumped, then he nodded, rubbing the back of his head as his embarrassment saturated my thoughts. Afraid… Sad…
“Hey hey, don’t be sad!” I gently exclaimed and roped him into a one-armed hug. “This whole time, huh,” I muttered while he sank into my neck. I turned my attention back to the phone in my ear. “So it feels like he did know, actually…”
“Good, good,” Dad replied. “Even if you hadn’t known, his knowledge of your emotions is indicative of a healthy connection.” He paused for a moment, possibly reviewing the notes he’d been scrawling throughout our conversation. “Did any of those feelings feel… familiar to him at all?”
“Uh—hold on. H-Hey,” I gently propped Junior up. “You alright?”
Okay… Junior rubbed his eyes. Rhys… Guilty…
“Seriously, it’s okay!” I whispered and rubbed his head. “Can I ask you my question or would you rather wait?” The strength of his embarrassment deterred me from probing and I didn’t want to disrespect his privacy either. What kind of trainer would I be if I didn’t return his respect?
Junior stared at me for a few seconds, his doubt shifting into comfort as he traced my sincerity.
A gentle, nervous nod. Desire.
“When you felt me think about my dreams, did those feelings feel familiar at all?” I privately repeated my thought. I could tell he was still a little afraid, like he truly wanted to be of help but couldn’t fully bring himself to confront the source of that fear. I imbued myself with welcoming feelings to let him know that I’d accept any response, or lack thereof.
Scared…! Scared!! Junior suddenly started trembling wildly. Apologetic… Scared…
“It’s okay!!” I squeezed my phone between my head and shoulder and placed Junior on my lap. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, okay?” I flashed him a thumbs-up, hoping he’d calm down enough to realize the meaning of my gesture. “Don’t worry about what I’m feeling. I know you can’t help it, but right now I want you to focus on your own feelings. Can you do that for me?”
Junior’s big red eyes stared meekly into mine. Faith… I could feel him slowly begin to calm down, which greatly relieved the sense of self-imposed pressure I’d felt in the back of my mind. I didn’t want him to be this selfless if it hurt him this much. My curiosity, as it always tended to, could wait a long while.
“I don’t—I’m not sure he can tell right now,” I sputtered, realizing I’d put Dad on hold for a moment too long. “Sorry…”
“Ah. No worries.” I heard him drop his pen and shuffle a bit. “I… too should also apologize for not being fully candid.”
“What?” Why did he sound concerned? Was there something troubling he wasn’t telling me?
“It’s just—” he paused, the faint squeak of a chair faded backward into the phone. “It’s not uncommon for trainers of psychic types to experience residual bouts of cerebral interference. These don’t commonly manifest as anything worse than either headaches or the minor depression of senses, but there have been instances in which the link between minds has caused… other issues.”
“Like…?”
“… Do you recall the concept of imprinting?” he asked earnestly.
“Y-Yeah,” I gulped. “That’s when babies get attached to anyone they think is their parent, right?”
“Correct. Now think of the emotions you and your Ralts exchange. Are they gentle or are they visceral? And have you ever found yourself feeling those emotions outside your normal interactions?”
“I mean… it depends,” I replied. “I’ve gotten a few bad headaches since yesterday but regular telepathy doesn’t hurt at all.” I felt myself start to sweat, anticipating what the hell he was getting at and what it all signified. “A-And I wouldn’t say I feel his stuff outside of when we share. I mean maybe the feelings linger for longer than they should but they’re not too—“ a memory of that awful numbness zoomed in and out of my consciousness, “—bad…”
“So there’s this concept I’ve been deliberating with myself over,” he continued. “I call it ‘Imprinted Feelings’. Think of it like a kind of psychic branding—where an intense thought or feeling can somehow be transferred from Pokémon to human and trigger for its own reasons. Most psychic types, even young ones, are either instinctually mature enough to regulate their abilities or lack enough power in general to even cause this phenomenon. But, the Ralts line is unique in that they respond very easily and quite intensely to emotional stimuli, so…” He trailed off, seemingly losing himself in a bout of intense thought.
“Wait wait wait. Are you saying you think this might be happening to me?” I spoke solicitously, fire beginning to well up in my core. Of course you’re being hurt. There’s always a catch.
Rhys…? Junior’s concerned voice popped back into my head, startling me. I mentally urged him to go back to collecting himself, reassuring him that I’d be okay even if it felt like I wouldn’t be. He hesitantly nodded, his presence zipping out of my head as quickly as it’d entered.
“I only have a feeling your dreams may be tangentially related based on what you’ve told me,” Dad replied. “As long as you aren’t experiencing anything debilitating while conscious then there’s no cause for concern. Just… let me know if you or your Ralts begin to have any trouble thinking straight, alright?”
“Y—Yeah,” I breathed deeply, “I will.”
“Thank you—shoot!” a cacophony of beeps and buzzes rang out from something in the background as Dad began to sound like he was scrambling. “I hate to leave you on such short notice, but I need to take care of something. We’ll keep in touch, okay?”
“Sounds… good,” I muttered, my expression turning sullen.
“And Rhys… I love you, alright?”
My heart jolted. “… Love you too.”
Beep!
I slumped in place, still processing everything he’d said while thinking about all the things I couldn’t ask. His last statement echoed like a wail in my heart. Such solemn sincerity… Why did it feel so weird coming from him? My phone slipped out of my hands, my body falling in tandem, both smacking against my now freezing mattress. Imprinted memories, unknown danger, the unshakable feeling of confusion that talking to Dad filled me with; too much was swirling in my head at once. I needed a moment—no, a hundred moments to clear my mind and get back on my metaphorical feet. “If only I could just sit outside forever…”
Rhys…? Okay…?
I jolted at his voice for the thousandth time. Junior was now standing on my clavicle, his weight so light that I hadn’t even felt him standing there.
“Honestly? No, not really…” My confusion had quickly molded into annoyance. I didn’t even want to think about anything anymore! My guts felt like they’d been thrown into a meat grinder and violently spit out into a vat of acid, and the worst part was that I couldn’t even pinpoint which one of the hundred muddled thoughts in my head was the culprit.
Junior’s face clenched as his tiny voice roared back into my head. Rhys… Want… Help!! The vibrant glow of his horns made me squint, the feeling of desperation that followed making it clear that he was tired of trying to shut me out like I’d asked. I looked at him solemnly for a moment and swallowed another pointless apology. Now I just felt guilty.
“I know I know, it’s just… all that stuff he said,” I stared blankly up at the ceiling fan. “I don’t even wanna think about it. I wanna do anything but think about stuff right now.”
Junior waddled off my chest and clumsily laid down next to my head, turning to look at me as I did the same. Calm…?
I sighed and smiled. “Only a little bit this time though, okay? I don’t want you to get scared about me again.”
Junior nodded and gently closed his eyes. A sudden wave of peace washed over my body, my muscles loosening as if by force. My thoughts went silent while my head gently tingled, eyelids fluttering as I felt myself gently slipping further, and further, and further…
… Then it stopped. The wave receded out of my body and snapped me back into normalcy. I clutched my chest as I caught my breath; the shift had been more sudden than I expected!
Okay?
Junior was looking at me, his hand curiously placed below his mouth and head tilted a bit to the side.
I sat up and flashed him a thumbs up. “All good! All good! I feel… great, actually!” I was so stunned at how normal I felt compared to our last attempt that I nearly thought I was impulsively lying so that he wouldn’t worry, but it was true! My head didn’t feel foggy; no fuguelike state was endured; everything felt clear, and not in a weird temporary way like before! “I toldja you wouldn’t hurt me!”
Happy! Happy! Junior jumped in joy and burrowed himself into my stomach; I nearly coughed in surprise as his horn stabbed it squarely.
“Great job…!” I encouraged him, lifting the Ralts off my chest. “Did that feel easier?” I tapped my head. “Like, did you feel like you had more control that time?”
Junior nodded. Confident! His eyes were sparkling from underneath his hair in joy. There’d been a tinge of worry in his thoughts right after I emerged from the trance, but that was all gone now.
I smiled and placed him back on my shoulder, still in awe at how genuinely normal I felt. “Glad you didn’t melt my brain this time, huh?” I said in jest, nudging him on the shoulder and snickering. He looked at me with befuddlement, the mix of emotions he transmitted lightly slapping my mind as if to say “Really dude? Really?”, but they quickly transformed into reciprocating feelings of amusement. I briefly wondered how long this would last; our earlier attempt was like slapping a bandaid on a gaping wound, but this time my head felt like it’d actually properly responded. Only time would tell, I thought. “Y’know what? Just roll with it!”
Knock knock!
“Come in!” Had Harrison already come back? Those knocks were too gentle to be his, plus he’d have already stumbled through the door at this point!
The door slowly creaked open. Mom’s head poked into the room and she gave me a meek little wave.
“Hey, Rhys,” she softly began. “I just wanted to… apologize for my tone earlier.” After gently shutting the door behind her, she came to my side and sat down next to me, nervously scratching the back of her head. “I know you already have a lot on your mind and I hope I didn’t exacerbate anything. I need to be more careful,” she briefly glanced at Junior and smiled. “Especially now that he’s around.”
“It’s alright Mom! Really,” I timidly hovered my hands in front of her. “I’m feeling alright now, I promise!” Junior squeaked in tandem with my reply, mimicking my gestures of assurance. Mom lifted her head and stared at me, her shaky smile tinged with hidden sorrow.
“Honey,” she sniffed, squinting as she gently wiped her eyes. “Are you telling me what I want to hear again?” Her lips quivered as she spoke. I could feel Junior begin to tremble, yet no sadness bled into my mind.
“No, seriously, I really am feeling better!” I gently put a hand on Mom’s shoulder and pleaded. “Junior and I have been… practicing some psychic stuff! He can sorta calm my mind down now when I get too emotional!” I stammered, trying my best to quickly describe what I still couldn’t fully understand. “Please don’t cry…”
“I’m sorry I’m sorry,” Mom fanned her face and tried her best to smile. “It’s just been rough,” she put a hand on her forehead as her voice began to crack. “So, so rough.”
I wrapped my arm around Mom’s shoulder and gave her a moment to feel. Junior hopped onto her lap and gave her a hug of his own, letting out a few meek cries of sympathy as spurts of his positivity attempted to comfort her. Wrapping her arms around him, she softly wept as I attempted to keep myself from also bursting into tears.
“I think—“ Mom lightly coughed and took a deep breath, her voice still stained by the mucus in her throat. “I think we just all need a break.” That comforting, warm smile returned to her face; the few anxious thoughts that’d crept back into my mind faded softly into nothing, and I smiled back.
“Y-yeah!” I stammered, gently letting go of her. “That would be really, really nice…”
“I should make breakfast,” Mom sighed and dusted herself off. “Your friend is over and I’d rather make him feel at home than look like a wreck.”
My stomach growled at the thought of her cooking, but I shook my desire off. “Y-You don’t gotta, Mom,” I said sympathetically. “You can take a break too, y’know…” Junior squeaked concernedly; I could tell he agreed!
“It’s okay,” she said as she slowly stood up. “It’s therapeutic for me, really.” Reaching the frame of my door, she turned back to me and pointed. “Pancakes?”
I grinned awkwardly. “I think Harrison likes waffles more…” I could’ve sworn he’d told me that at some point, but some memories were a bit too faded to recall with clarity.
“Oh—I’m making some for you too, Junior,” she stopped herself mid-step, making a V with her fingers below her eyes and pointing at him goofily. “No boy in this house is starving today!”
Happy!! Junior cried, reciprocating her mischievous glee. I smiled and exhaled. Everyone had cheered up, my mind still felt relatively clear, I was about to stuff my face full of food; maybe today would be better, somehow.
Don’t forget.
A spurt of anxiety spurted into my head. “Crap! I should tell her. It’s only right, especially since she suggested I—but what if this isn’t the right time? Relax, it’s not a big deal. Seriously, it’s NOT a big deal. But—“
Calm…
Then, it all faded away.
“Hey Mom?”
“Yes honey?” her voice rang out from the stairwell.
“I uh—I called Dad earlier, like you said!”
The footsteps stopped, then slowly started back up the hall. Mom poked her head back into my room. “How was it—er—how was he?”
“It was—it was good,” I nodded contently. “He’s doing… alright,” my voice faded into a whisper as I gave her a smile. I’d have given it more thought, but I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t need to feel like it.
Sunlight trickled onto Mom’s face, casting a sparkle in her eyes.
“I’m… glad,” she replied. Her smile quivered slightly. Without another word, she slowly made her way back downstairs, leaving me staring blankly at the hallway wall and contemplating what she may’ve felt.
Sincerity… Uncertain…
I looked down at Junior, who was now seated criss-cross, staring blankly alongside me with his hands on his lap.
“Yeah,” I replied, unsure of what to say. “I know…”