Rehab graduation day, I’m thrilled to report, involved multiple instances of bodily contact. AKA – hugging. A lot of it. While this same group of strangers had once been awkward and resistant to each other, that was clearly no longer the case.
A folding table stood in the center of the reception area decked out with a multi-colored plastic tablecloth, finger food and all the fixings, as well as a huge rectangular slab ice-cream cake that a beaming Max cut into liberal wedges. He handed me a piece - so liberal - the paper plate buckled under its weight, and ice cream dribbled over my hand.
“Thanks, Max.” I licked melted cake off my thumb. “Nice spread you got going.”
“We like to give our people a proper send off,” he said, offering me a napkin. I took it and mopped up the rest.
Conscious of the hungry hoard, I joined Max behind the table. While we chatted, I alternately scarfed down cake and helped to feed the line.
“You should be proud of the work your mother’s done. She’s come out of this a winner.”
“I am proud. I’m over the moon, raise the roof, proud.” I shot him a sideways glance. “But I’m nervous.”
“So is she.” Max nodded in Mom’s direction. She’d planted herself near the exit, as if ready to bolt for freedom, but she was leaning against the cinderblock hospital wall like she was glued to it. “They all are, and with good reason. Staying clean in here is one thing, out there,” he waved a plate toward the exit sign, “every day will be a challenge.”
“Hey.” I dumped my empty plate into the garbage can at the end of the table. “Mom can do this, you know. She’s a strong woman. When she commits to something, she gets so into it, she probably should be committed. Besides, she has me.” I gestured across the room to where Mom stood – with Grace cracking jokes to make her smile – and Monty making himself useful by holding the single piece of luggage she’d brought with her. “She has us.”
“I know,” Max said. “I just wanted to make sure you did.”
“Ah…playing mind doctor, are we?” I wagged my finger in Max’s face. “You’re tricky.”
I left him to it and made my way across the room. Considering I’d thought Mom would lay into him on sight, inviting Monty to her graduation had gone pretty smoothly. I knew I probably had Grace to thank. She’d had several meetings with Mom after the frying pan incident, and between the two of us, we’d managed to negotiate a truce. Not only that, Mom had agreed to let Monty and Mona move in with us.
No guarantee it’d work out, or how long we’d be able to care for him at home, but for the moment, it kept Monty out of the likes of Horizon Way. Grace and her soon-to-be ex-husband – we all knew that one wasn’t going to last – had helped with the move and sent loads of Monty’s stuff to storage. The house was up for sale, and of course, Roach’s mom had the listing.
“There’s my girl,” Mom said, pulling me in for, you guessed it, a hug. “Isn’t she beautiful, Dad? I’ve always thought she looked a bit like Mom. Do you see it?”
“She’s there in you both, don’t you forget it.” Monty’s eyes scrunched up in one of his winks. He picked up Mom’s bag that he’d had resting on the floor. “When are we leaving? This place gives me the creeps.”
“I’ve said all my goodbyes,” Mom said. “I guess we can be on our way.”
Grace made a move to scoop the bag from Monty’s trembling grip, but he bared his teeth, letting his top denture drop onto his tongue. She quickly stepped back, dropping her hand.
“Children, behave,” Mom said.
We started for the exit, just as Eric entered.
There was an awkward moment where we did that horrible sidestepping dance, both avoiding eye contact, then he faked right when I dodged and he slipped past. I turned to watch as he walked right up to Morgan, swept her off her feet and spun her in his arms.
“Isn’t that…?” Grace said, leaning in so my mom couldn’t hear.
“Yeah.”
She put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” I realized she’d made the same mistake I had and thought Eric and Morgan were a couple. I didn’t have the strength to explain. Free man or not – he hadn’t looked my way. Not once.
Monty led the way out, actually heading in the right direction.
“How long before they kill each other?” Grace asked, slicing a glance to Monty and then back at Mom who trailed behind us.
“We might make it to your car.”
We both laughed.
Mom lingered in the entrance. “Here we go,” she sort of whispered to herself.
She took one step, then another, catching up with us in a few strides. She wormed her way between us, linked her arms with ours.
And we went home.