Wesley is gone when I wake up. The whole house is spotless as I make my way downstairs. It probably won’t stay that way for long but it’s a relief, for now. There’s coffee brewing and a note on the fridge. My name written in his looping scrawl.
Wesley and his sister must have a more respectful relationship than I do with my brothers because if they had seen this first they would have read it. I pour myself a cup of coffee and pull the note off the fridge. I sit down at the kitchen island, taking a deep breath and a sip, to fortify myself for whatever this might say.
But it’s not a long letter. It’s not even really a love letter. But it’s very Wesley: honest.
Whenever you’re ready for maybe, let me know.
I love you, Corrine.
—Wes.
I fold the paper over, running my nail over the fold. Hot, silly tears brim at my lash line.
What have I done?
“Morning, Corrine.”
My dad is suddenly standing beside me. He’s strangely quiet for such a big guy. I fold the note over, tucking it under my mug.
“I’m going in to see Mommy. Want to come?”
My smile is wobbly. “Definitely.”
I burst into tears the second I walk into her room. I worried a hole into the inside of my cheek on the drive over here with Dad. But she’s sitting up in her bed, scowling at the tray of food in front of her, not lying there barely conscious like I imagined she would be.
“Why are you crying?” she asks me. “Why is she crying?” she asks my dad, in a tone that suggests he is the reason.
He steps over the threshold into the white-walled room, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know.”
“Dear, will you go get me something else to eat? Maybe banana and granola and some yogurt.”
A manic-sounding giggle escapes as I imagine the knowing face Wesley would make if he heard that my mother’s breakfast order was the same as mine.
Dad walks past me to place a kiss on her forehead, then leaves, closing the door behind him. There’s no sun on this side of the building and a washed-out painting of a ship at sea sits on the wall across from her. Nothing about this hospital room is good enough for my mother and I feel the same righteous indignation Wesley felt last night. That she doesn’t deserve this.
Any of this.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, pushing the tray away and opening her arms.
I hug her but I don’t fall into her like I want to. She’s sitting up and she sounds like herself, but she’s still too small and fragile in this bed.
“Can’t I just be happy you’re better?”
“Of course you can. But those aren’t happy tears, pot roast. They’re heartbreak tears. What happened?”
I open my hand and Wesley’s note, a crumpled, damp mess from my sweaty palm, falls onto the bed.
“What’s this?” Mom flattens the paper down on her lap. She’s silent as she reads it. “Corrine?”
“Mom. I screwed everything up.”
Her skin feels dry as she rubs a tear from my cheek. “Impossible.”
I shake my head. I don’t deserve her unwavering faith.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”
“So tell me.”
My mom’s face, the kindness in her eyes, pulls everything to the surface. The words tumble out of me. “I quit my job. Or maybe I got fired. I don’t really know.”
“Oh?”
“Because my boss has been sexually harassing me for...for so long,” I whisper, still too ashamed to say it at full volume.
“Oh, Corrine.” Tears fill her eyes and trigger more of my own.
“And...my intern. The one that I thought...the one that I didn’t get along with...” I can’t say any more. Partially because I don’t want to say the words to my mother. But also because they hurt so damn much to say out loud. That we were together. And now we’re not.
Understanding dawns on her face. “Oh. Oh, baby.”
Her thumbs wipe away the tears streaming down my face. I can’t seem to stop crying.
“Did he break up with you?”
I shake my head. “I did. I... I told him he was a mistake. I said horrible things to him.”
His face as I said those words is etched behind my eyelids. I don’t care that he forgives me, I wish I could fix it.
Mom gathers me close to her. She still smells like her vanilla soap. The hospital scent hasn’t taken over. “Was it a mistake?” she asks. “I can’t believe it was if you’re like this now.”
I take a shuddering breath. And then another. “Maybe...maybe at first. I’d just found out about...” I gesture around the room to signify, all this. “And Richard... I thought... I thought I just had to take it, you know? In order to make it there, to be successful. I wanted to be loyal after everything he’s done for me. But nothing I ever did beyond my complete capitulation was going to be good enough for him. I just wanted to be good enough and when I couldn’t be I... I guess, yes. I made a mistake by trying to find distraction in him.”
I’m made of the thinnest eggshells. I will crack open and spill all over the floor at the slightest pressure.
“I... I used him.” The words come out on a sob.
She pushes my hair behind my ear. “Or maybe you just turned toward someone who thought you were good enough. Who didn’t want anything from you...but you.”
The tears come faster now, because it’s true. Wesley wanted me, even at my bitchiest self.
“So tell him you’re sorry, Corrine.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“He won’t speak to you now?” Mom asks, with a knowing tone.
I cry harder. “The opposite. He came here. To take care of me while you were in the hospital.”
Her body feels frail against mine as she laughs. “Then what’s the problem?”
I sit up. Breathe deeply. Wipe the tears from my face, myself. I try to explain past the shame. “He wants to wait until we’re both in a better place to be together.”
She takes a deep breath. “Well, he sounds very...considerate, dear. And smart.”
“I can’t, Mom. I can’t be with him. Because then everyone will know. Everyone will know that it started when we worked together, when I was his boss. They’ll think...”
She frowns. “Who cares what they’ll think.”
“I do,” I say, pressing my hand to my chest. “Despite recent actions, I actually care about my professional reputation. I couldn’t stand it if people thought...”
“Fuck ’em.”
I blink. My brain rewinds the word my mother just said but still cannot compute. “Wh-what did you say?”
“You heard me.”
Up until this moment, I had no idea my mother knew how to curse.
“Do you think people thought highly of me, when I showed up in this town, an unwed mother? I cared what people thought. I cared a lot. And you know what your father said?”
“I can probably guess.”
She nods, once. “He said, fuck ’em, and he asked me if I loved him enough not to care what they thought.”
I want to be the brave, strong woman my mother was and still is. But the fear won’t let me say it. Not out loud. “I’ve worked so hard, Mom.”
“For what?” Her face is red as her own tears start to fall. “For some pig to harass you? You found someone who loves you and you love them back, baby.” She smiles, like she’s happy for me. She rests her hand over my heart. “Has any job felt as good as him loving you?”
I close my eyes, and as the realization washes over me, I laugh. “No.”
Another wave of tears follows my laughter because what have I done? What have I thrown away because of fear?
“Oh.” Mom cups my cheeks. “Oh, my little pot roast. Everything will be okay.”
I cover her hands with mine. When my mother says it, it’s easiest to believe.
Mom’s eyes narrow. “Now, we just need to figure out what we’re going to do about Richard.”
That’s one thing I can smile about. I sent my email to Sue in HR, detailing all of Richard’s, Sean’s, and Mark’s misconduct, in the cab on the way to the airport a few days ago.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve got that covered. He’s royally fucked.”
“Corrine,” she says with a gasp. “Language.”