Jaded (The Butterfly Memoirs) (27 page)

Zack berated himself the entire ride for not seeing the signs. He blamed himself for not forcing the doctor to give him the details of his mother’s health after her fall. He cursed for not knowing this was going to happen.

Guilt plagued me. Keeping my mouth shut during the ride was nearly impossible. So many times I wanted to tell him it wasn’t the doctor’s fault he was unaware of her condition, that it was her wish he be kept in the dark. But what would it solve? The end result would still be the same.

She was dying. That was that.

But why so soon? According to the time table she’d spoken of, she should have a few more weeks. My goal had been to return from our honeymoon and hopefully tell her a grandchild had been conceived. I wanted us to spend time with her before she died.

Instead, the last time we’d seen her was four days ago at our wedding.

“I’m looking for my mother. Her name is Belinda Givens. Her doctor told us to get here as soon as possible,” Zack informed a nurse at the ICU nurses’ station.

She reviewed her computer records then hit the buzzer to let us through the doors. She met us on the other side and guided us to the correct room.

Zack squeezed my hand tightly; I squeezed back in reassurance.

We arrived at a room lined with observation windows. The blinds were open and there laid Ms. Belinda. She appeared smaller than she was the day we left. Tubes were sticking in her arms and nose. Machines measuring the rate of her heart and breathing beeped and wailed in the background making the already ominous moment worse.

A countdown to death.

I closed my eyes while Zack groaned.

I squeezed his hand. “Is she awake?” I asked the nurse.

“She’s been in and out of sleep for the last few hours. She’s on a lot of pain medication but honestly, I don’t think it’s working. Go in and try to speak to her. If she can hear you, she’ll reply.”

Zack lead the way into the room. He let go of my hand and reached for his mother’s. I walked around to the other side of the bed.

“Mom…can you hear me? It’s Zack. Yasmine and I came to…,” his voice faltered as it thickened.

I clasped her free hand. “Mom?”

Nothing.

I studied the monitors and saw her heart rate was irregular, so was her breathing. Neither was a good sign.

Zack rested his head on his mother’s hand. I watched his body tremble as he cried silently. Unable to hide my emotions, I let my own tears flow and reached over to run a hand over his head. He reached out for me and held tight.

I had no idea how long we stayed that way, but eventually Ms. Belinda’s hands tightened on ours. Zack and I glanced at each other before turning in time so see her eyes flutter.

“Mom? It’s Zack…can you hear me?”

Her head shifted ever so slightly.

“We’re here. I’m here. How…how…,” he stopped as tears fell.

I squeezed his hand again. “We’re here for you, Mom.”

Her eyes opened slowly. She gazed at Zack, a tear slipped down her cheek. “My…son…”

“I’m here, Mom…”

More tears came from my eyes. Watching the pain and anguish on his face broke my heart.

Ms. Belinda released my hand and with what must have been a huge effort, reached for his face. When it was obvious she didn’t have the strength to lift her arm, Zack reached for her hand, placed it on his cheek, and held it in place.

“I am so proud of you…I love you so much. You have become the man your father wished you to be.” Ms. Belinda’s voice was frail as she spoke with great effort. “When your father died, I promised him at his grave I would make sure you took after him…in every way I could teach you. I can go to him now and know…I did just that.”

“Mom…please…why is this happening? You were supposed to be better. Where did I fail you?”

“Baby…you didn’t fail me. This body failed me. There was nothing you or I could do.”

“But…but… what am I supposed to do without you?”

“Zachariah…you have everything you need… You married the woman meant for you.” Her gaze slowly left his as she turned to me. She dragged her hand from his face and reached for mine.

Without a word I knew all of the things she wanted to say but couldn’t in front of Zack. “Hi, Mom. We made it back.” I sniffed.

She closed her eyes and squeezed my hand as hard as she could. Tears fell from her eyes. “I’m so glad he found you. You two will be happy, I can feel it. I give both of you my blessing, on this marriage…on your future…on your family…” She grimaced as a severe pain struck her. “Love each other…no matter what happens…always love each other. Take nothing for granted…”

The heart monitor began to beep. I glanced at the number on the monitor that recorded her blood pressure as it dropped. I squeezed her hand. “Mom…oh no…”

“Mom! Stay with me, please, don’t go! Mom!”

The oxygen alarm and heart monitor alarms went off simultaneously. Ms. Belinda’s body seized as she struggled to take in air. Then as suddenly, she exhaled, long and slow. Her grip on our hands went weak as her fingers slipped free. Her body went still, no longer breathing.

 A nurse came into the room and shut off the monitors, drowning the room in perpetual silence.

I walked around the bed to where Zack stood, rooted, clinging to his mother’s hand, and crying. I wrapped my arms around him and guided him away from the bed. More nurses and her doctor entered. They checked for vitals and marked the time of death.

Zack’s knees went weak and we both sank into the chairs in the room. His eyes stayed focused on the bed as a nurse began removing tubes and needles from her arms. “She’s gone, Yasmine. My mother is gone.”

I held on tight and tried to absorb his pain.

This wasn’t fair. Ms. Belinda was too good of a woman to be gone so soon. She had so much left to offer this world. So much love left to give to her family. Zack needed her. I needed her. The life that could be growing in my belly needed her.

The only thing I could do was remain strong for my husband. I promised my mother-in-law I would keep him from letting go of life. That’s exactly what I was going to do.

 “I’m an orphan, Yasmine. I have no one left.” He dropped his head into his hands.

I kissed his cheek. “That’s not true, baby. You have me.”

Zack blinked back tears as realization dawned on him. “Yeah, I have you.” He leaned over, pulled me into his arms, and sobbed.

Chapter 35

Two weeks.

I’d been married for two weeks.

My mother had been dead for two weeks.

Two would never be my favorite number.

I sat on the sofa in the living room and stared out the large window; seeing nothing, lost in thought, lost in time. What was the last thing I said to my mother before leaving for our honeymoon? For the life of me I couldn’t remember.

I had told her I loved her, and I’m sure I had told her how beautiful she’d been. But what else? Was there any statement that would have given her any idea of exactly how much I appreciated her?

That, among other things, bothered me most.

How long had she known she was dying?

Her doctor informed me after her passing there was nothing that could have done to slow the process or save her. Yes, the cancer had indeed gone into remission. No, there were no signs of it when he’d given her that diagnosis a year ago. There had been no reason to suspect cancerous cells hid inside her marrow, making the bones brittle. Thus the reason she’d easily fractured her hip. Eventually the cells spread to her vital organs. It had only been a matter of time.

Time she’d been well aware of for six months. Time she’d kept the severity of her illness hidden.

Why didn’t she tell me?

“Zack, baby, you need to eat something.” Yasmine stood in front of me, blocking the view of the setting sun. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. That’s not healthy.”

I focused on her face. The concern was apparent in her grey eyes. She squatted in front of me, forcing me to see her instead of stare out the window.

“I’m not hungry.”

That wasn’t true. My stomach growled, my head hurt; I needed sustenance. The act of chewing and swallowing would be too much. As it was, saying two words was a challenge.

Yasmine placed one of my hands against her chest. “Do you feel that?”

I focused on where my hand rested; over her heart. I could feel the rhythmic thump, thump, thump, and nodded.

She placed my hand on my chest. “Do you feel that?” I forced myself to nod. “That’s life, baby, yours and mine. We have a life ahead of us. I know it’s hard because I miss her too, so much.” She paused as tears welled in her eyes.

I creased my eyebrows, feeling the same thing about to happen to me. Men weren’t supposed to cry.

Had my father ever cried? I couldn’t remember a day when he had been upset about anything. He always had a smile on his face and a positive outlook on life. ‘A dream in his heart and hope in his eyes’, as my mother put it. There was something else witty she’d say when talking about him, for the life of me I couldn’t remember. I stared at the coffee table where my cell phone sat. I could call and she’d…

I groaned and closed my eyes. A tear fell. I gritted my teeth, clenched my jaw, and tried my damndest to suck it up. I was a man, not a punk, not a sissy. I shouldn’t be crying weeks later. What would Yasmine think of me?

What was I now? A momma’s boy?

I pushed my frustration into the pit of my stomach, opened my eyes, and focused on the beauty that sat in front of me.

My wife.

“What are you cooking?” I forced myself to ask.

Relief passed over her features. “Chili. If you’d rather have something else then—”

I reached out to run a hand over her cheek. Her skin was so soft. “No, that’s fine, whatever you made is fine.”

She smiled a little and leaned in to kiss me.

I placed my hands on the side of her face and rested my forehead against hers. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

“Yes I do, it’s as much as I love you.” She kissed me again, this time a little longer. “Come on, I’ll make you a bowl.”

She stood, then walked to kitchen.

Watching her body was like watching a work of art. Every movement was sensual even when she wasn’t trying to be.

When was the last time we’d made love?

I closed my eyes and sighed. It had been during our honeymoon. The night before…

Sorrow rushed over me and threatened to take over. I forced the emotion away to clear my head.

Yasmine reached into the cabinet for a bowl and glanced over her shoulder. I rose and walked towards her.

An ache in my chest made food no longer a necessity. I needed something else. I needed to feel her body against me. I needed to know that emotionally we were still in tune. I needed to get rid of the pain nested in my heart since the moment my mother took her last breath.

I needed my wife.

“I don’t know how much you want, but…whoa,” she dropped the ladle in the pot.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, drew her against me, and buried my nose into the soft flesh of her throat. She smelled like home and love. Laughter and life.

It was exactly what I needed.

I ran my hand down the length of her arm holding the bowl and coaxed it out of her grip; the dish settled on the counter.

I slid my hands to the edge of the little red tank top she loved to wear around the house, ran my fingers underneath to the soft flesh and flat expanse of her belly, up to her breasts. I reached her nipples and discovered the lack of a bra. I traced her throat lightly with my lips; kiss by seductive kiss.

She gasped and leaned against my shoulder.

“Zack…”

“I need you…I need you…,” I murmured, and drew the straps of the tank top off her shoulders.

She didn’t move to jump me, instead, she settled against me, letting me take my fill. My hands drifted to the top of her sweat pants and untangled the tie. They dropped to the floor. I slid my fingers between her thighs, beneath the lace panties to naked flesh. I wanted to feel her body tremble against me.

Her release was music to my ears, flooding my senses, driving me to do more. My mouth was parted, ready for the kiss she gave me. She reached for my hand and led me upstairs to our bed. I stood as she undressed me, absorbing the feel of her hands along my skin.

Naked, she crawled into bed and held a hand out to me. I lay beside her, pulling her into my arms. The feel of her bare flesh against mine was exactly what I needed. This connection, this intimacy reminded me of how much good I had in my life, despite the loss of family.

Yasmine was my family.

My wife twisted in my arms and kissed me, long, slow, deep. I sighed and rolled her on top of me.

“We need a condom.” She reached for the nightstand.

“Why?”

She paused, hesitancy on her face. “I know we said we wanted to have a baby, but we can wait.”

“Why wait?”

Yasmine laid her hands on my chest. “I thought that…it’s just…I don’t want to push you into committing to starting a family so soon after... I thought you may not be ready.”

“I don’t want to wait, Yasmine. Nothing has changed. I still want to start our family. I need this. Don’t you?”

She nodded; I guided her mouth to meet mine.

I got lost in the sensation of our bodies as we rolled together, against one another. She gave and I took, losing myself deep inside. When I came, my release was more than physical, it was mental. It was a moment of forgetting the pain of loss and remembering the joy of life.

When we were done, I was not fully healed, not by a long shot, but our mating solidified our need to be together as a couple. As one.

My eyes closed, my breathing returned to normal. I realized the pain that dissipated was now replaced with something else. For the first time in weeks, I was able to think and see things clearly.

I didn’t like what I saw.

“What’s wrong?” Yasmine sat up next to me, rested on an elbow, and traced the hair on my chest with a finger.

I stared at the ceiling in the darkened room. “Do you really want to know right now?”

“Yes,” she said softly.