Chapter 15: Mummified

The next morning, my mother ordered me to the clinic.

“We should put a honey and cayenne pepper salve on those wounds,” she advised as I obediently propped myself up on her exam bed.

“My skin will be all sticky,” I protested.

“It will help heal the wounds faster. You don’t want scars, do you?”

Reluctantly, I allowed my mother to examine my scrapes and apply the sticky red salve she insisted needed to be wrapped in gauze.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked, lifting my arms. “I look like a zombie.”

“How you look doesn’t matter to me,” she said with a dismissive shrug. “Now, come along. Let’s get some breakfast, and I will tell you all about the conference.”

As we passed the dining room, I caught a glimpse of myself reflected in the French doors that led to the deck. Justin would be returning this morning, and though I had been looking forward to meeting him again, I considered delaying our next interaction.

We settled into the kitchen, and my mother gushed about some of the amazing techniques she’d learned and innovative technology that was available. Meanwhile, I had one ear perked, listening for Justin’s truck.

My mother must have thought that I had gotten bored, because she paused in the middle of her latest story. “Enough about my adventure. Tell me more about Toby.”

“You know as much about him as I do,” I said, attempting to sound casual as I added, “I like him, and I am glad that I made a friend.”

“You are lucky,” she stated. “What if he hadn’t been there when you crashed?”

“I didn’t crash, I wiped out—which would not have happened if I had been in a car.”

“If I can’t trust you to pay attention while riding a scooter, then why would I trust you in a car?” she shot back.

Anger began to stir in my chest. “I wouldn’t have been distracted if I hadn’t been so upset!”

My mother paused and tilted her head in concern. “What happened that made you so upset? Did you and Haylee have a fight?”

“Haylee and I are fine,” I spat, tossing the remainder of my toast onto my plate. “I was pissed at you.”

My mother gasped, appearing confused. “Why? What have I done?” She paused, then added, “Lately…”

“You blew me off to have supper with some man you just met!” I’d had no intention of bringing the minor incident up, but her comment about not trusting me to have my own car had put me in a petty mood.

“Don’t try to deny it,” I said. “I heard him speak to you while we were on the phone.”

She threw her shoulders back, appearing indignant. “I am a grown woman, and if I want to have supper with a man, I am entitled to do so. I kept my vows to your father, and once he died, my obligations to him ended.”

Though my mother didn’t stutter once, her voice did falter slightly when she mentioned my father. A pang of guilt shot through my chest, but I stubbornly persisted.

“I didn’t feel like you were betraying Daddy,” I elaborated, “I felt like you were failing in your obligations to ~me~. You moved me to this strange town and into this spooky house and then left me to my own devices while you had a nice evening out.”

“The evening didn’t turn out too bad for you in the end,” she pointed out. “And I believe I have satisfied my obligations as a mother. I’ve always loved you with my whole heart, even when you are being a brat.”

Before I could defend myself, my mother put up a hand to stop me. “Let me finish,” she continued in a sharp tone. “I know I am a mother, but I am much more than that. I am a person—one who still has dreams and desires.”

“I realize that,” I said as I recalled my conversation with Toby. “I don’t think I was angry because you met a man. I was angry because I was afraid. With Daddy gone, you are all I have.”

I had been expecting a rebuke, but suddenly her eyes were swimming in tears.

I leapt from my seat and rushed to throw my arms around her. “I’m sorry, Momma, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

My mother stood so she could reciprocate my affection. Holding me close, she said, “You are all I have left in this world too,” she sobbed into my shoulder. “And I promise, no man will ever replace you in my heart.”

I started weeping as well, and we stood there holding each other until the tears began to dry up.

When we parted, my mother cupped my face. “Promise me, next time you feel that way you will let me know so we can talk about it.”

I nodded. “I will, as long as you promise not to share too many details about your desires.”

Laughing, my mother agreed. “It’s a deal.”

As we began to mop our faces with tissues, the doorbell rang.

“The exterminator isn’t supposed to be here until noon,” my mother complained as she checked the time on the kitchen clock.

“It’s probably the landscaper,” I reminded her. “He’s back to do the trimming.”

We gazed at each other as the doorbell rang again.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” my mother demanded.

I gawked at her, then stood back and gestured at my bandages.

“I’m still in my housecoat,” my mother said, gesturing at the knee-length gown she wore.

“Fine, you win…,” I said, rolling my eyes as I stomped down the hall.

As I passed the credenza, I grabbed the check that was owed to Justin. With it in hand, I only opened the door a crack to slip outside so he wouldn’t see my mother sneak past as she made her way upstairs.

Justin took a few steps back so he could assess my bandages. “What happened to you?”

“I wiped out on my scooter,” I explained as I offered him the check. “You forgot this yesterday.”

“You forgot to give it to me,” he corrected me as he snagged the check from my fingers and folded it in half so it would fit into the back pocket of his jeans. “It must have been quite the wipeout. You look pretty banged up.”

I shrugged. “Just a few scratches.”

“That looks serious,” he said, lifting my arm so he could see the bandage on my right elbow. The salve mixture was evident in the sunlight, making it appear as if I were bleeding through the gauze.

I chuckled. “That’s not blood. It’s just cayenne pepper and honey.”

“Spices and honey?” he asked with a raised brow.

“It’s an old remedy my mother uses,” I explained with a dismissive wave of my hand. “The scratches were minor, but she deemed all this necessary.”

“If she had wrapped you in bubble wrap, then you may have never gotten hurt in the first place,” he teased.

“That’s not funny,” I insisted, raising my eyes to meet his gaze. Somehow, he looked even more handsome today than he had the day before.

His hair had been curly, damp with sweat, but today he had slicked it back with hair gel. He had trimmed his light beard, and the T-shirt he wore was clean and just tight enough to display his pectoral muscles.

As I gazed at him, the butterflies returned and suddenly I felt self-conscious about my appearance. I crossed my arms over my chest and lowered my eyes.

As if suddenly remembering himself, Justin adopted a more professional tone. “I’ll start in the back with the rose bushes, then I’ll work my way around to the front.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I offered awkwardly, glancing up just in time to catch his eye. He smiled and did not break eye contact as he knelt to retrieve his sheers. I felt myself flush and had to avert my gaze.

He let out a slight chuckle as he forewent the stairs, leapt from the porch and landed in the grass.

“Show off,” I heckled him.

He laughed aloud this time as he carried the sheers with him around the porch and let himself into the backyard through the gate.

As I turned to walk back inside, the butterflies in my stomach became more violent, and suddenly I realized the real reason I had been so emotional lately.

I made a beeline to the bathroom, praying that my period had not already started. The underwear I had selected that day was a newer pair, and I didn’t want them ruined.

Once I was in the bathroom, I pulled down my pants and was pleased to discover that I was still dry. I reached into the little cupboard next to the toilet and found a pad that would provide me with some protection.

After I finished using the toilet, I went to the sink to wash my hands and was horrified by my reflection. I’d woken up several times the night before, feeling stiff and sore. The rough night had left my skin ruddy and a dark cast under my eyes.

I quickly washed my hands and returned to my room to apply concealer. Then I decided to dab on some lip-gloss and apply mascara as well.

Satisfied with my reflection, I grabbed the book I had been reading, thinking I might use it as an excuse to lounge on the deck.

Just as I exited my room, I noticed the light in the pink room was blinking rapidly again. I sighed.

The shower was running in the bathroom, so I assumed that was where my mother was. I cracked open the door, allowing some of the steam to escape.

“Mom?”

She shut the water off so she could hear me. “Was there a problem with the landscaper?”

“No, everything is fine,” I quickly replied. “It’s just the light in the pink room is going nuts again.”

“I will call the electrician back once I’m out of the shower,” she said. “Why don’t you just flip the breaker to that room for now?”

“But the breaker box is in the basement…,” I whimpered, but my mother had resumed her shower and could no longer hear me.