Straight Through My Heart

Walking into my front door later that night, I heard soft humming coming from the kitchen. Laying my things by the door, I slowly made my way to the kitchen, my arms crossing my chest. I nearly choked up in surprise to see my mom -- the one I remember -- sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea resting between her hands and a thick Stephen King novel between her elbows.

"How was your day, sweetie?" she asked, looking up from the book and meeting my gaze. Her eyes weren't bloodshot, her hair was braided neatly down her back, her light make-up wasn't smeared, and as I stepped closer to her, she smelled of rosemary and mint. "Frankie? Is everything alright?"

"You're sober," I said, my voice just above a whisper. "You're truly, undeniably sober." I sat in the seat beside her, reaching my hand out and lightly stroking my fingers down from her temple to her chin. "So long have I lived with the monster, and I come home today to the mom I remember." Tears sprung up in my eyes and I felt shaky, as if I were to stand up, my legs would turn to jelly and I'd fall flat on my face.

"I don't remember much of last night to be honest," she started, setting her tea down before completely turning towards me, "but when I saw how nervous and scared you were this morning, unsure of everything about me ... about us, I realized I needed to put a stop to the drugs and alcohol. My baby boy is growing up and I was missing it all."

I didn't know what to say, so I dropped my gaze to my hands which were now resting palms up in my lap. My mind was racing, but the constant question that was eating away at my very core was, 'How long was this going to last?' Closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths, I glanced up at my mother and saw nothing but a loving and curious face looking at me. "I've missed you, Mom," I said, biting the inside of my cheek to try and not cry.

Lifting her hand and running it along the side of my face, my mother only laughed and gave a small smile. "I know, Frank. I'm so, so sorry for taking so long to come back to the surface. I know I shouldn't have even started in the first place, but that man just crushed me."

"You didn't deserve that, Mom," I said, grasping both of her hands in my own. "I still don't quite understand what happened, but I did my best to stay afloat for both of us."

"I found out you got a job. Though, I wish it was something that should have happened under different circumstances." She squeezed my hands before standing up. "What do you say we go out to that restaurant you love so much?" Mom pulled me up and raised an eyebrow.

"It's bloody expensive, though!" I said, wondering how she expected to pay for it. I didn't get paid for another few days, so me helping out with the bill was out of the question.

"I gave a few things to the pawn shop and have a bit of money. Enough even for that friend of yours. What's his name?" She thought for a long moment before a light came on in her head. "Gerald."

I couldn't help but laugh. When I opened my eyes a couple minutes later, she was looking at me as if I'd lost every bit of my sanity. "His name is Gerard, Mom." She nodded then grinned at me before looking at the clock.

"Well, shit. It's going on midnight, so that means it's closed. We'll go tomorrow," she said, pushing my hair back a bit and looking at me. "Go get some sleep, baby. I promise I'll still be here in the morning."

Hugging my mother close, I didn't want to let go. I was afraid that if I did, all this would vanish. I looked up at her and felt like that little boy who could always depend on his mommy. "I'm scared, Mom."

"No need to be scared, Frankie. I'm here to stay," she said, kissing my forehead, "permanantly."

Next Morning

I awoke with a start, reaching under my bed and feeling the familiar texture of my guitar case. Pulling on a raggedy pair of pajama bottoms, I made my way sleepily downstairs.

The smell hit me at the end of the stairs. Apples, cinnamon, pancakes, and freshly squeezed juice. Walking cautiously into the kitchen, trying my best to stifle a yawn, I barely had time to register a flying shape hurling towards me.

"FrankieFrankieFrankie!" came an excited voice as I was tackled to the floor. Afraid to open my eyes, I felt hair tickling my face and I smiled softly. "Morning!"

"Gerard! You're over-excited this early? It's like ten," I said, opening my eyes and looking into the familiar hazel ones of Gerard.

"I could hardly sleep last night, and I also have a new drawing I need your input on," he said, not moving.

"Well, I can't give you an input while being crushed by you, now can I?" I asked, causing him to grin. "Plus, it'll have to wait until after breakfast." At that, I grabbed him by the biceps and rolled over on top of him, grinning at him before getting up and rushing into the kitchen and hiding by my mother.

"Aw, Frank! You're blushing!" Mikey said, causing me to whirl a bit and see the younger Way looking over a book, his glasses askew as if he fell asleep with them on and never fixed them.

"Your friends dropped by to see you, so I invited them in for breakfast," Mom said, causing me to tear my gaze away from Mikey and look up at her. Kissing her cheek, I sat down at the table beside Mikey and across from Gerard.

"I won't have much time to really hang out," I said, pouring some juice into a glass. "I have to be at work at noon." Gerard seemed to deflate. "You're more than welcome to come hang out. My boss doesn't care."

"I was hoping we'd spend the day together!" Gerard whined, becoming over-dramatic.

"Gee, we've been spending every day this week together, and I can't miss a day. I don't have any free days for another month," I said, trying to stop Mikey from leaving the table with utensils, mainly the forks. "Just come with me to work. Plus, we got to talk to my boss about that mural project and when he wants us to do it."

"I almost forgot about that," Mikey said, finally paying attention to his book again. "What's on your mind for it?"

"We'll have to discuss it with Howard. It's his business," I said, thanking my mother as the food was placed before us. "Now let's eat before it gets cold. Plus, I have to get ready which can take a while." Gerard only glared at me before he starting piling on pancakes. Soon we started talking about the mural, considering what would be to our tastes yet be good for the younger eyes. As we discussed it, I barely caught a glimpse of a bottle of Bourbon clutched in the hand of my mother as she walked into the living room.