"I know, Emma ... But I can't just leave her like that. Helpless and injured." She tries for a smile, but I just stare at her impassively.
"Is that the issue?" Jake's voice breaks in, he's at the door with his cell in his hand, as though he's just used it. Walking back in at the opportune time.
"She has no one else." Sophie answers him, glancing at me warily. I experience a pang of guilt but push it down. She has no clue how complicated my relationship with my mother is. I watch as Jake frowns, his eyes losing focus for a second as he thinks something through. Even standing like that, the heat of attraction surges through me still and I push it away.
"If I arrange for someone to care for her, until she's well, Sophie. Will you come with us? ... Today?" he's in negotiation mode. Mr. Business. and watching him lifts my heart. I knew from the second he met Sophie that he had taken an instant like to her, I knew he would help her. Jake is that kind of person.
"Maybe," she says quietly, mulling it over in her mind.
"If I can go see her and tell her myself," she adds softly. My heart lifts, hopeful and satisfied that he just gave me an answer to this problem. The sooner I detach this girl from this situation the better. I could kiss him right now; he is just beyond amazing sometimes.
"It's a deal then, Sophs." He beams at her, dazzling and charming.
"I'll call an agency this morning and hire a live-in nurse until she's fully recovered... On me." He flits to me as though asking for my permission, but I just shrug, a smile creeping over my face. At this moment, I could not love him any more, he is just everything to me.
***
Sophie spends a half hour in the room with my mother as we wait in the hall. Jake has asked me a dozen times if I'm sure about not going in and I glare at him coldly. He clamps his mouth shut and looks away His jaw tenses in agitation, but he leaves it alone.
He just doesn't get it at all; he has no way to understand my relationship with her when his own mother is everything you could want in a parent. Kind, caring, protective, and loyal. She would move mountains for her sons and is an advocate for abused children across all states. He wouldn't understand.
My mother is the polar opposite. I spent my childhood being her carer, protector, and mother. Fighting off aggressive men she brought home. I bought my baseball bat with money from a news delivery job at eleven and I used it more than once to shield her from overly violent arguments with her current beau. Even at such an early age; my fire and rage uncontrollable. It saved me from advances so many times. Men pushing the line into perversion, but I fought back, said no, and erupted. I have been hit so many times, but for each strike, I would lash back. It was never worth their while to pursue it. A crazy little fireball of spitting rage, wielding fists at them. Ray on the other hand, was truly a monster and the fighting back only turned him on. He pushed the boundaries and showed me that at the end of the day, I was still a weak little girl.
Sophie finally emerges, her eyes wet and her nose running. I'm hit with the bite of anger. My mother always knows how to break you down and make you feel guilty. It is just one of the many reasons I can't walk into that room today, or ever again.
"She's asking to see you," Sophie says softly to me, touching my hand gently. I say nothing, only shake my head and turn on my heel indicating they should both follow. Jake doesn't however, he stands his ground, regards me with narrowed eyes before he turns and walks into my mother's room with a frown. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat and gawp after him.
I snap around and run after him at speed, ready to haul him back out as anxiety peeks. He knows nothing about why she's in here, one look will tell him everything and he has that stubborn air on; the one which means he isn't going to take no for an answer. I'm too late, his long strides have him past the curtain and around her bed as I enter the room. My mother has the good grace to at least sit up and fix her hair at his sudden presence.
Well, who wouldn't? Look at him!
There's confusion as she takes in his appearance. Casual in jeans and a leather jacket, trademark tight T-shirt and his shades nestled in that spiked hair. Definitely not a doctor, although he looks like he would make a really gorgeous one. He's appraising her face, his eyes moving to her broken arm, the bruised swollen chaos. I slide up beside him glaring coldly, but he only raises an eyebrow at me, and I know what he's thinking. He knows this was no accident, he knows I've been keeping this from him and somewhere in that quick brain, he's wondering if Ray is involved. I can bet he's already figured it is Ray who did this I crumble under his scrutiny as my mother grabs at my hand, taking full advantage of my distraction.
"Emma, I'm so glad you changed your mind," she wells up, sounding pitiful and childish. I force down the wave of guilt and emotion. I won't let her get under my skin this time.
"I never had a choice." I glare at Jake again, who at least has the sense to step back and shove his hands in his pockets. His eyes resting on me, but his face is blank.
"Hey, Mrs. ... Ummm, Jocelyn?" he pulls a hand free again and waves awkwardly at her. "I'm Jake Carrero... Emma's...umm Boss." His eyebrows twitch as though he feels stupid introducing himself that way. My anger simmers: I don't see shy and awkward from him very often, in fact, I've never seen shy or awkward with him. It's so at odds with who he is.
"It's lovely to meet you, Jake... I'm sure Emma told you about my car accident," she lies easily, and I roll my eyes and clench my teeth.
Mother, he's not a fucking moron.
She's still gripping my hand forcefully, but I tug it free and move away from her so she can't try to touch me again. My mother never really did affection in the form of touching as I grew up; she never cuddled me or sat me on her knee. This little scene is for Jake's benefit, much like yesterday was for Sophie's.
"I came to say goodbye, mother, the doctors informed me your injuries are not life threatening. You'll be home in a couple of days." Cool and distant. Jake's gaze is on me, studying my tone of voice and controlled manner. I know he's trying to analyze the relationship; I wish he would stop watching us so closely.
"I will be, yes... I hoped you would stay a few days," she blinks wistfully, big eyes fluttering up at me childishly, trying to give me her most needy look through the swelling and bruises. I turn my face away to inspect the tubes hanging by her bedside. Avoidance always works a treat.
"I have work... A life." I mumble; there are a minefield of emotions and thoughts rushing through me. I hate how she always reduces me to this over-emotional erratic mess so that I never know which way is up. I made the best decision years ago when I walked out on her. I needed my mind free of this trauma and tugging, to find myself and gain some inner peace. I need it again now.
"Emma... you're my child ..." She whines quietly, putting on a show for Jake. I snort involuntarily, causing Jake to narrow his eyes at me. My mother carries on unhindered, used to aggressive, insolent Emma, used to my coldness toward her.
"Regardless as to how you behave, I know you love me. Somewhere deep inside the icy exterior is a heart. It's why you came at all." A tear tugs at my eye involuntarily and I storm away from the bed in response to her. I won't do this again; every time she's near me, this is how she gets to me.
"We have a plane to catch, Mother... Jake's arranged for a home help until you're healed so she'll be there for your release and won't leave until the cast comes off," I throw back flatly. "Appreciate it, sort your life out." I stalk out of the cubicle, my heart pounding with so many sensations, my hands trembling. I walk past Sophie who's staring out of a window in the stark hall and she turns and follows as we start heading out toward the main floor exit. I stay at a fast pace. Jake catches up in a jog moments later, coming to walk beside me. He reaches down, taking my hand in his, entwining our fingers softly. He opens his mouth to say something, but my cold, "back off", glare makes him clamp it shut again. He looks away, that familiar tense of his jaw as he quells his annoyance. We know each other too well.
He slides his arm against mine as he thinks better of pursuing it, body relaxing and the calming effect he always has over me kicks in. Grateful that he's here after all and enjoying his hand enveloping mine securely. Grateful that he says nothing and just holds my hand. We leave the hospital wordlessly.
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