Holding Someone's Hair Back

-Mama Fuentes-

My eyes fluttered open and I groaned at the feeling of them adjusting to the light. It wasn't bright in my room or anywhere in the house at all. They'd just been closed for too long. I took a deep breath and exhaled softly as I sat up and swung my legs over the edge. I could hear the rain against the windows and ground on the other end of the wall. I closed my eyes and absorbed the sounds along with the silence. My boys loved the rain.

I can remember their laughter and smiles as they splashed around, stomping there feet with their arms flailing. I can remember their younger brother watching from under the porch as his older siblings ran around and sometimes wrestled when they'd gotten older. He wasn't one for getting wet under unnecessary circumstances. But he didn't mind sitting out in the cold to enjoy is brother's. I can remember standing in the living room window, watching them smile and laugh and be happy. Not one person would've ever imagined that they'd grow apart and cast one another away because one would fail. They looked like success.

I opened my eyes and wiped a tear away. I looked behind me to make sure that Victor Sr. was still asleep. His head was delicately placed on his pillow and his chest moved up and down at a nice pace. I smiled. At least he hadn't gotten away from me.

I stood up and wasted no time in making breakfast and getting dressed before my husband woke up. He had to be reminded that we had somewhere to be this morning. Otherwise, we'd be in the house or going to see a friend like we did every other time. But no, not today. We were actually going to see our son at the hospital today. I wouldn't let anything stop me.

I finished the eggs and put them on a plate, placing it on his side of the table.

"Victor!" I called. "Breakfast!"

I stood by his chair and waited for the rustling of the sheets and the sounds of the bed. I heard nothing and huffed.

"Victor!" I called again. I waited and still heard nothing. I walked back into our room and folded my arms. His back was turned to the door and his breathing didn't sound as if he was sleeping. I rolled my eyes and hit his shoulder.

"What?" he groaned.

"I know you're not sleeping Victor. Now get up. I made breakfast and I want to leave by 11:00 to see my-"

"Alright, alright." he said slowly sitting up. I smiled and went back to the kitchen to make coffee.

After about 15 minutes or so, my husband was out of the room, fully dressed and sitting at the table. I watched his face as he began to eat. He didn't look like he normally did. He looked stressed and irritable and, just not himself.

I sighed and placed my hand on his. He shook his head.

"He's our son Victor."

"No. That's not my boy that's sitting in that hospital. Don't you remember what he did?"

"Yes, I do. But it's been almost two years Victor. Don't you think we should at least see him now. Oh my boy. He's probably so worried and alone."

"Addicts don't have feelings." he said before he began to eat his breakfast.

"Recovering ones do." I said back. He put down his fork and sighed.

"Let's go." he said in defeat. I smiled and went to get my coat and purse.

I met Victor outside in the car. He finally came out, shielding himself from the rain with his arm until he was in the warmth of the car.

-#-

We waited in the waiting area until the line had shortened. I stood up, leaving Victor with my purse in his seat while I stood second in line behind a someone that I assumed to be man and wife. They looked sad. Just like Victor and I when were here a long time ago.

The man wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulder and left down the hall. I stepped up to the counter and smiled at the young man standing behind it. He smiled back.

"Hello, how may I help you today?" he said without his smile ever leaving his face.

"My husband and I are here to see someone." I answered.

Alright. May I have their name?"

"Yes. Victor Fuentes."

He turned away and started typing on his computer. I looked back and forth from his face and the computer. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Their isn't anyone here that goes by that name."

"Are you sure? I was told that he was staying here again. He'd been here once. Victor Vincent Fuentes."

That's odd. Maybe I was told the wrong hospital.

"I'm sorry but- oh. Here he is. He was checked out uh," he scrolled down on the computer. "Just last week."

"Are you, what?"

"Yeah. See." He turned the monitor and I looked over the screen.

"Thank you." I said and headed for the door. "C'mon Victor."

"What's wrong?" I didn't answer him. "Vivian."

"We need to go and see Michael."