"Look Out!"
It was the last words I screamed before the SUV crashed into us. I remember trying to reach for Jacque's hand as I looked at his face, covered in blood and almost unrecognizable. I remember hearing the sirens and wails of the ambulance as I was dragged out of the car and yelling to the person dragging me out to help Jacque first.
All I could do was scream, my body felt weak and I felt the familiar warmth in my lungs creeping up as my body began to flail out of control. Then, everything went black.
I wake up to a gentle sunlight peeking through the window. The room is white and the familiar smells of a hospital waft into my nose. Immediately I jump up to see my mother, sitting across in a large couch, fast asleep. I know I have suffered another epileptic seizure, and I have the medicine injected in my veins to prove it. I slowly pull myself out of the bed and carry the medicine with me to the lobby, because I don't want to wake up my mother. I can't feel my body wobble, and the bandages on my left arm and face, and I don't feel any bones broken or fractured. However, I can certainly feel the adrenaline in my body forcing me to get up and find my husband.
I see a nurse speaking to a doctor over something in a clipboard, more than likely unrelated to me, and I limp over to the reception desk without consideration of the other patients as I begin to shout.
"Where is my husband?!"
The nurse and doctor are now looking up at me as the nurse at the reception desk looks at me with utter shock.
"Your husband?" the nurse asks quizzically, "What husband?"
The doctor and other nurse run towards me as I begin to collapse. I hold myself up by grabbing hold of the reception counter. The doctor grabs me as he directs the nurse to hold me and help carry me back over to the bed. I detest with a loud groan and continue asking where is my husband. My mother rushes into the lobby to calm me down, but I can't seem to pull myself together. Disoriented and confused, I feel a small pinch in my bottom and fall fast asleep.
I dream of Jacque in my sleep. The first time I met his gaze and fell in love with him. I dream of him in a hospital bed in critical condition and unable to wake up. As I reach out to grab his hand, I suddenly feel a grab on my hand. My eyes open to the sight of my younger brother and his worried face. I pull away unconsciously and rudely, unable to realize that it's not a dream.
As much as I want it to be a long horrible nightmare that I can just wake up from and move on, it's not. I begin to cry into my hands uncontrollably. My brother begins to soothe me while I continue to cry. I suddenly hear a person walk in, and assume it's either the doctor or my mother. To my surprise, it's Laurence; Jacque's younger brother. The look of dread and sadness written all over his face, I can't stop the large tears from swelling up in my eyes.
"Laurence? Is Jacque here? Is he okay?" I breathlessly ask between my sobs. Laurence nervously pulls his phone out of his pocket, looks at it for a moment and exhales.
"H-he...," Laurence starts to explain, "Jacky was in critical condition, and he fought like hell but," my lips begin to shake as the words form in his sentence, "he didn't make it." Laurence then looks down nervously, as if he felt guilty. I continue to sob into my hands.
"No! It can't be! He can't be dead! I don't believe it!" I cry out loud, initiating my mother to charge in and hold me.
"Shh, my sweet girl, it's alright!" mother attempts to calm me, but all I can think about is how this could possibly happen.
"My phone! Where is my phone I need to call Mama Ramos, she needs to know!" I cry out as I struggle to try and get out of the bed. Mother holds me firmly as she continues to try and calm me down.
"Your phone was destroyed in the crash, if it wasn't for Laurence, I wouldn't have known you were-," my mother begins to sob, "my girl, I'm so sorry for all that I've done to you, I thought I would surely lose you." My mother sobs next to me, but I don't feel remorse for her or for Laurence.
All I can feel is my heart breaking at the thought of not seeing my sweet Jacque ever again.
"Wait," I finally speak, "Laurence, please call Mama Ramos, I need to speak with her!" Laurence sighs in a blatantly disappointed tone.
"Ma doesn't wanna hear from you or anyone, she's in denial and grieving," Laurence says this as he puts his hands in his sweater pockets. My heart breaks again as I hear this and I can't believe it. Is Mrs. Ramos really avoiding me? Is she really furious because I survived and Jacque didn't? My eyes become blurry and I pass out again. All I can think about is Jacque. My love. My one and only true love.
Three weeks have gone by, and my mother graciously took me to her vacation home in upstate New York, where I continued to recover from my injuries which weren't too severe. I never got a hold of Mama Ramos, and after Laurence delivered the news to me, I haven't heard from him since. I have no way of accessing my old numbers or contacting anyone. Since my mother insists, I stay at her home and recover, I don't have a means of going back home since my wallet and cellphone perished in the crash. I begin to get stir crazy and feel paranoid that my mother is trying to bring me under her control again.
During one of our dinners, I questioned her while my brothers were present and she insisted she is not trying to stop me from leaving, she is just concerned that I have not healed properly.
"You're free to return back to your home whenever you please," mother responded. I huff in annoyance, because I have no means of getting back home, it's entirely too far from her vacation home in Syracuse and I'd need at least a thousand dollars to get back to our apartment by taxi in New York City.
"Mother you know I don't have my money with me, and I have to contact my bank to get a new card, this feels like you're trying to get control of me again," I say a little too bluntly, scaring my younger brothers.
"Nonsense, if you need money, I can easily give it to you, all you need to do is ask," my mother says this very coldly, and I glare at her, "Or I can drive you there, if you'll allow me."
My face relaxes, and I stir my soup without any intention of eating. I haven't been able to ask her for any help, because I refuse to be under her control again. But there's something else: I am afraid to go back to our home. The place I shared my life with the most amazing man I'd ever know. I have not been dealing with the grief very well. Being around my mother forced me into a survival mode that I had when I stayed with her before, and I have not cried since I left the hospital.
All I want to do is cry until there are no more tears left. But I can't. Not with my mother around. And although I am grateful to her for helping me recover, I no longer want her help. I want to go back home and start grieving the loss of my husband.
Finally, I break the silence and rise from my seat. My mother and brothers look up at me.
"Take me tomorrow, I want to leave before sunrise," I say to her. My brothers look on to my mother who is halfheartedly smiling.
"Of course, dear, we will leave early tomorrow morning."
I wake up at four in the morning, and immediately take a shower and get dressed. My mother is downstairs, speaking to a young woman who I assume is going to oversee babysitting my brothers. I walk downstairs and wait for my mother to finish instructing the young woman.
I wait for her in the car and pull out my cellphone. I'm not used to seeing no messages on my phone. I usually have a response from Jacque after I've sent him something funny or silly. I usually get messages from Wally at work, too. But I'm too scared to go back to my job, I'm too scared to face his family. I begin to cry in the car and almost lose control of my sobs. Now my mind is flooded with memories of our life together. The passionate and sensual nights we spent, the meals we shared, and the stimulating conversations we had. The tears poured from my eyes until I could no longer control myself. My mother quickly opens the door and holds me in her arms.
I can feel her trying to calm me down, and it angers me. Instead of allowing me to grieve, all she ever did was try to get me to stop. I push her away and continue to cry. Mother then kneels by the car and takes a deep breath.
"When your father died, all I wanted to do was cry," my mother begins to tell me.
"What?" I ask through sobs.
"Natalie, I loved your father, despite what you may believe, I loved him more than anything, until we had you of course," mother folds her hands over her lap and continues, " I wasn't always worried about money, you know, I used to be very carefree and happy, and when I met your father, your grandmother objected. She believed he would never be able to provide for me or any children we may have. But, I loved him, so I married him, and he proved to be the best husband and father I've ever known.
"When he got a job as a salesman and got promoted so quickly, we lived much more comfortably with luxuries I could only wish for, and you know," mother gets up and dusts herself off, "When you were born, he dismissed all his clients and cancelled all his meetings just to be there for your birth. He really was the perfect man. I thought I'd die if he died. And when he did, a part of me died with him. I had to be strong, for you, and for us. I couldn't leave you alone because of your seizures, so I couldn't return to a regular job without getting some kind of help, and we couldn't afford it. I didn't want to expose you to all of those terrible things, but I couldn't stand to see you go hungry either."
She is looking away from me as she says this, and I don't understand why she is recounting these memories, but I'm keeping to myself, not attempting to feel moved by her story.
"I have not been happy since your father died, I only wanted to make sure that you and I would always be okay, and that's why I want you to understand, I know how you feel," mother finally looks at me when she says this and I start crying all over again.
"I'm sorry that I tried to have him killed, I did not think you two could love each other the way I loved your father, I only wanted to protect you because it was what I always wanted to do. When you returned to visit me, I knew you truly loved him, the way you've grown because of his influence, reminded me of how your father changed me. I never thought your marriage would last and I only wanted you to be secured in your future, in love and financial security.
"I'm sorry I pushed you to be with Grant even though you didn't want to, I'm sorry for so many things," mother begins to cry, a genuine emotion I didn't think she could ever feel again, and I start feeling bad for dismissing her and thinking she was just acting. I start to listen more intently.
"Oh Natalie, I'm sorry for everything, I know you will never forgive me, but please know, I no longer wish to take charge of your life, and I'm so proud of you and the life you made with Jacque, I just wish I had realized it sooner that he truly loved you and you loved him."
I reach out to hold my mother's hand with eyes swollen with tears and cry into her lap. I never once heard her apologize for all that has transpired. It was the first time I wanted to hold my mother like a child should. I let everything out and cried harder than I thought I ever could. I can't go back to that place, I can't see my in laws. It's just too painful.
"Mother?" I manage to say lowly, and she looks down at me, "Can we please just leave? Can't we start over?"
"What do you mean dear?" mother asks.
"Can we please leave New York? I can't live with this pain anymore, I feel like I will lose who I really am if I stay here," I answer. With a soft smile and a tear stained face my mother kneels back down again and cups my face.
"Of course, dear, whatever you wish, I promise I will never dictate your life again."