Ever Since You Walked Into My Life

It was drizzling outside. Light pats of gentle rain knocking quietly against the glass door of the patio. The sky rumbled melodically every few minutes. A warning of harsher weather well on its way. There was a light breeze. Trees wavering ever so slightly in the calm wind. It was cliché, really. The melancholy weather for a depressing situation. We were going to visit Mom today. Me, Sammi and Norman.

Mingus was currently situated at his friends house. Playing games, being a kid. I hadn't slept in two days. Hadn't eaten much either. I knew what was coming. The sudden break in this small façade I had going for a good while. Mom wasn't doing well; we all knew the outcome. I knew once that happened Sammi and I would be doing much worse than just not sleeping. At least for a little while, anyway. I cupped my coffe tighter in my fingers.

Steam billowed from the top in gentle swirls. Curled in the air before disappearing. I sipped from it gingerly, wincing at the burn it gave my tongue. I sighed quietly and held it to my chest with both hands. I could feel the warmth through the cup, tingling my palms and fingers. It was slightly comforting, in a way. But then my mind wandered again. The weekend was just around the bend. Norman would be leaving for Georgia soon.

I didn't mind. I might need to be alone for a while. But he was adamant on staying, regardless of what today brought. I couldn't allow it. For him to throw off everything he's worked hard for just for one little person. For someone like me. He understood, but he didn't like it. And I still pressed him about my Chevelle. I still didn't quite trust that pile of rusted metal. It would most likely break down when needed the most. That sounds familiar.

Norman's steps were hidden against the carpet. I tensed when his hands touched my shoulders. I could see a nervous smile work his lips from the glass door. I let my head fall forward as he gently rubbed my shoulders. I sighed, more in contentment, as he asked, "You alright?"

I nodded, "Yeah, for the most part. Do you mind waking Sam for me? I should have been ready an hour ago,"

"Yeah," he squeezed my shoulders, kissed my cheek, "no problem. Take your time,"

He left. Went to wake Sammi at this god awful hour. I took one last sip of my coffee, placed it on the island counter and moved on toward the bathroom. I had my clothes set on the toilet seat; thin jeans, a golden top. My attempt at getting ready earlier was faulty as I found myself getting side tracked. I closed the bathroom door, turned the water to a warm stream and stripped. The water was soothing.

Rhythmic spurts of nuke warm water massaging my muscles. I tangled my fingers through my hair, watched the suds swirl down the shining drain. I was just as tired when I stepped out, however. I wrapped a towel around my head, dressed as quickly as I could. I brushed out my knots, dried it just slightly. I stumbled into the bedroom, slipped on a pair of boots I had just recently bought. Not knowing my first time wear would be for saying goodbye.

I found Norman and Sammi in the living room. Her small body pressed tightly under his arm, against his chest. The tv was playing, but neither were watching. He stroked the hair from her face, whispered quietly to her. It was a sweet moment and even in my emotional state I managed a smile. Sammi was wearing one of her favourite dresses. A cream coloured silk with loose ruffles on top. She was adorable.

I made my presence known by clearing my throat. Signaled to both of them that we should leave as quick as possible. The drive to Trenton was almost an hour. A long, agonizing, mind reeling trip. Sammi had fallen asleep against my side, head tucked gently under my arm. I brushed my fingers through her hair, gave Norman an assuring smile every now and then. Normally when your other goes to meet the parents, its not so sad.

You get butterflies, the both of you. Wonder if they would like them. If the parents would approve or disapprove of your relationship. Hoped their apparel was decent enough for an early dinner. I knew my parents would be happy for me, whether Norman showed up in Hippie drags or a tux. I smiled at a the thought, ran a smooth thumb over Sammi's birth mark below her eye. It was when we pulled up to the old folks home that I seemed to lose my nerve. Again.

Sammi and I hadn't seen any of the family face to face in a long time. It wasn't the same as a quick call in the phone booth or a chat on our own phone, when we had it. Sammi, though the thought of saying goodbye to Mom was at the back of her mind, was excited to see Sandra after so many years. We checked in at the front desk and was pointed in the direction of Mom's room. We walked through the halls, tried to ignore the clean scent that lingered.

I spotted Sandra first. Standing beside Mom's room, dressed casually. Sammi seemed to notice her as well, because she was quick to leave my side, tiny feet padding down the hall a little too quickly. Sandra brightened immediately when she saw Sam, "Sandra! Sandra!"

Sandra knelt down, wrapped Sammi into a tight, almost endless hug. As Norman and I walked over, Sammi giggled quietly, forcing a smile to fit my lips. After getting a much needed hello from Sandra, Sammi stood to the sidde, holding her hand, sporting a toothy grin. After introductions, we fell into a conversation of old memories and the now. We almost forgot the reason of why we came as we laughed, smiled, acted like sisters again.

Even Norman, after a few short minutes, managed to mold from shy and dorky to a natural wooer. Conversations fell short, however, when a familiar head of blonde hair managed to catch my eye. It was Connor, the brother who would disown the family in a heart beat if he could. He larger than before, more built for his role as quarter back for the Cowboys. I peered to Sandra, whispered, "Connor's here?"

She frowned then, found a quiet reply, "He's just as much as the family as the rest of us. He's conceited, yes, but he deserves to say goodbye too. Mom would be heart broken if he didn't come,"

"I'm surprised he did," I forced a smile as he walked over.

"So, how long's it been?" He gave Sandra a hug, moved to me, ignored Norman and stopped at Sammi, "Sammi, is that you?"

Sammi's smile grew as she moved forward for a hug. Connor picked her up and hugged her tight to his chest, "Damn, you got so big. How old are you now?"

"Well, you haven't seen her in oh," I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, "six years?"

"Well, it's hard to see a sister who can't keep a steady household," he sneered.

"Hey," Sandra gave him that stern look her and Mom shared, "knock it off. Both of you. Let's start with goodbyes now, alright? Go on in, Connor,"

"Yeah," his eyes narrowed, cold, malicious, "guess I should, huh?"

He roughly dropped Sammi on her feet and made way to Mom's room. I took a deep breath and hugged Sammi into my side. He was the same old Connor; rude and incredibly unlikable. Norman rested a hand on my shoulder, "Is he always so fun and ambitious?"

"Oh, all the time," I sighed.

I watched as some of the old folk came and went. Some were upset, others shared memories. A few minutes later, when Connor emerged from Mom's room, he seemed angry and bitter. His hands were balled by his sides, face slightly red. He looked like he could take down a house at the very moment. I peered back at Norman before making eye contact with Connor once more, "It's like she doesn't remember me,"

"It's probably the drugs, Connor," Sandra reassured him, "she's nearing the end, you know?"

"It's such bullshit. I'm her only fucking son," he snapped, "I shouldn't have come anyway. I got better fuckings things to do,"

"Like getting into the super bowl?" I growled, "Yeah, how's that going for you, buddy?"

"Shut the fuck up, Rascal," Connor spat.

Norman's features fell at his cruel tone, but before he jumped in to the fight, I continued, "Maybe you should have come around more often. Then maybe Mom would have remembered the son that never was,"

"You shouldn't be talking," Connor seethed, "you move so fucking much, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't remember having two more daughters. I'm surprised Dyfs hadn't taken Sammi from you yet,"

I gripped Sammi's shoulders tightly, eyed the delirious man in front of me, "Why would you say shit like that?"

"That's enough," Norman stepped between him and I, an unknown fire blazing behind his blue eyes, "stop with the bullshit. Its clear you two aren't on good terms. But from now on, when you're in my presence, you'll treat Rascal with respect. You hear me, football star?"

"I'm sorry. Wanna play that by me again?" Connor glared.

"Norman," I warned.

Norman took a step closer and spoke slowly like Connor was a child, "When you're in my fucking presence, you'll treat Rascal with utmost respect, or we're going to have a fucking problem. Should I spell it out for you?"

Connor took a dangerous steps forward, their chests nearly touching. The level of testosterone nearly sky rocketed. I wasn't the only one to notice. Norman didn't know of Connor's bad temper. I was afraid this would escalate, "And who are you, exactly?"

"You don't need to worry about that," Norman spat, "I'd just make sure that the next thing that comes out of your mouth is an apology to your sister,"

"Guys, enough," Sandra snarled, "this is absolutely ridiculous. Connor, please, tone down the cocky persona. You're with family and old folk. No one gives a shit about what you do here. You said your goodbyes, now leave. Go do whatever's more important than you're own mother,"

Connor snorted. He didn't reply with a snarky remark, an obnoxious point, he just left. Purposely shoving Norman's shoulder on the way out. He tightened his fists by his side and shook his head. He was angry, slightly tense. I placed a hand on his shoulder and he turned toward me. I gave him a small smile and said, "Thankyou, Norman,"

"He really needs to loosen up," Norman rolled his shoulders and breathed out slowly, "he's a dick. I don't know where he gets the cockiness from. The Cowboys suck,"

Sandra and I laughed and nodded our heads. I pulled Sammi's hair over her shoulders and squeezed her shoulder lovingly. She gave me a half smile and I sighed softly, "Ready to go see Mom?"

I looked up at Norman and smiled. He and I both knew it wasn't sincere. This was going to be hard, no matter how it went. I took Norman by the hand and said a quick goodbye to Sandra. We walked into Mom's room, my heart breaking just at the sight. An IV was nestled in the crook of her elbow as she lay. She was so thin, so much older looking. Her hair was tied in a messy braid by the side of her head, courtesy of Sandra.

I stayed strong as we neared. I watched her chest rise and fall ever so slowly. She didn't have much longer, we all knew that. Her eyes moved across the room and landed on me. They were so vacant, but even so, she managed to whisper, "Rascal, is that you?"

"Hi, Mommy," I sat in a chair beside the bed and took her hand.

I wanted to hug her, to share the warmth we used to have so long ago. Mom squeezed my hand and with her little strength, managed to bring my hand up to kiss it, "Oh, Rascal, it's been so long. Give me a hug,"

My eyes had gone from dry to damp in seconds. I leaned down and hugged her, taking in that familiar scent that mothers seemed to have. I let out a shaky breath and whispered, "Oh, Mom, I love you so much. I'm sorry we haven't visited,"

I pulled away, lingering as her hand cupped my cheek. She brushed a smooth thumb under my eye and gave me a warm, motherly smile, "It's okay, sweetheart. I understand,"

"I want you to meet someone, Mom," I reached back and took Norman by the hand.

He came over slowly, leaning down to take Mom's hand. He was so gentle and sweet, "This is Norman, Mom. He's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time,"

"Oh, it's nice to meet you, Norman," she whispered, "you better take care of my baby,"

"I promise," he said softly.

Sammi peered from over my shoulder before making her way in between Norman and I. Mom's smile seemed to brighten. She released our hands and reached out to Sammi, "Is this your daughter?"

I choked on my breath. I managed to shake my head and wheeze, "She's your daughter, Mom. This is Sammi,"

Mom cupped Sammi's cheek. She hesitated a moment, brushed a thumb over the birth mark right beneath her eye. It was then that recognition broke across her face, "Oh, Samantha,"

Sammi hugged Mom, cried quietly against her shoulder, "Mommy, I miss you,"

"I miss you too, baby," Mom's face squinted in pain as she fought for a quick breath, "hey, don't cry now,"

Sammi pulled away and Mom wiped smoothly at her tears. She lingered on her birth mark once more. I waited to hear the line she said so often when she was well, "You got so big. You know what this means?"

She smoothed a thumb over Sammi's mark once more before taking her hand, "It,"

She took a deep breath, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She was having trouble breathing again, "It means you're extra s-special,"

"I know," Sammi smiled.

"I'm awfully tired, sweetheart," Mom whispered.

"We'll let you be, Mom," I leaned down and hugged her again.

I took a deep breath, tried to hold her scent in my nose for as long as possible. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, "I love you so much, Mom,"

"I love you too, baby," she replied.

Norman stood from his seat and forced a smile on my trembling lips as he hugged Mom as well. He kissed her hand like the gentleman he was and said, "It was nice meeting you, Mrs. McMann,"

"Sheila," she cooed, "Mrs. McMann,"

Mom took a shaky breath, but managed a smile, "Makes me feel old,"

"Sorry," Norman grinned.

We watched as Sammi said goodbye. Mom spoke softly to her, brushed back her hair one last time. I reached out and took Sammi's hand, gently pulling her along as we made way to the door. Sammi cried quietly to my side. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, hugged her tight. We looked back as Mom spoke, "I love you girls. Be good. And Norman, keep an eye on them. They're tricky,"

He smiled warmly, "I promise, Sheila,"

Sandra, Norman, Sammi and I sat in the chairs along the wall. Silent as we waited for the moment the nurses would announce that Mom had finally passed. We didn't speak, just held eachother during the dark sadness that had crept up on us. I sighed quietly as Sammi cried, head buried in my lap, warm tears soaking my jeans. She wiped tirelessly at her tears, sniffled against the denim on my legs. Norman was our official comforter.

He soothed the three of us women, one by one. Coaxing warm words into our ears and assurances as we sat upset and quiet. I watched as a nurse made way into Mom's room with a little haste. She was there for a few minutes. My heart beat rapidly against my chest as we waited. It was then that she emerged, a forlorn look on her features. But the wailing that came next frightened me. It was Sammi, chest heaving as she sobbed.

And that hurt me more than anything in the world.