Shadows

Jacob buttoned the last button on his shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection in the fading sunlight hid his frown, and actually made him look at ease. He wanted the light to be his friend but knew tonight the harsh lights of his mom’s kitchen would allow her to see everything he wanted to hide.

It had been one year since he had dinner with his mom, and 22 years since he had a meal with her. The distinction between the two seemed almost impossible to comprehend, yet a fact was a fact. 

Jacob pulled the shirt off of himself and pulled two buttons off in the process.  He really needed to relax and he half laughed to himself at the realization. He grabbed the Phoenix Suns t-shirt off the bed that he had taken off three times already and pulled it over his head again.  They were in the playoffs; if they could win nine straight, it wasn’t too optimistic to hope for a win tonight.

He studied his reflection in the mirror again.  This time the last of the sunlight cast a shadow over the room that had him closing his eyes.  For a brief moment a shadow of a memory threatened to surface. Images flashed into his consciousness; shaking him to his core.  A tree, tall and broad, stood in the middle of the yard.  It must have been Fall for its branches were bare with twigs extending sporadically among the branches. Dusk was approaching; and as quickly as the memory crept into the unguarded territory of his mind, it was gone.  Jacob opened his eyes and the memory was just a whisper of a ghost.

Jacob sat on the bed. 

He didn’t understand these fleeting thoughts that came from him from time to time.  Were they a part of a dream? Were they a part of a memory? Were they part of a story that was once told to him by someone else? He was desperately curious but had no answers; not even an inclination of the source.  All he could attest to was the overwhelming feeling of dread whenever it was time to visit his mom. These ghosts and whispers of potential memories always bombarded him in the evenings on the days he was to see his mom.

Jacob loved his mom. He had no hate, no disdain for the woman who gave him life.  In fact, he had  total respect for her.  There was however, a distance. A gap in which time had not closed. Time had actually made the gap more evident as he grew from a toddler to a school age boy to a teenager and into a young man. It was getting harder and harder to ignore, and was now in fact causing a feeling of awkwardness he hoped he didn’t reveal through his actions or demeanor.  

He got up from the bed and assessed himself in the mirror one last time. He would walk.  The heat wasn’t too bad, albeit a little humid. Monsoon season was not a very comfortable time in the valley, but there was no chance of rain so a walk was a perfect way to stall his arrival and try to clear his head.  He cut through the park and stopped at the corner neighborhood market.  He bought a bouquet of flowers; carnations. They were her favorite, that much he knew.

As he approached her house, he noticed some subtle changes made to the yard.  There was now a rosebush near the mailbox. A delicate chiming reached his ears, and he looked up to see a tiny faded blue wind chime hanging from the roof.  It looked to be made of broken seashells and Jacob faintly wondered if his mom had dropped it while hanging it up. She had a tendency to drop things and he smiled at the thought.  He noticed some weeds peeking through the pavers and made a mental note to make time next week to come and help with the yard work.

Jacob walked up the few steps to the door and knocked.  His mother answered, looking hurried and a little flushed. Her hair was in disarray but looked as if it had been combed at one point recently.  Jacob was sure she had absentmindedly been fussing with it the whole time while waiting for his arrival.  It was one of her nervous tics and he was happy to see he wasn’t the only one who was nervous for tonight.  

Garlic and parsley filled his senses and spiraled him into a state of adolescence.  There were few things he looked forward to as a child, but his mom’s homemade garlic butter was at the top of the list.  She rarely cooked when he was younger, his dinners usually consisted of brown paper bags or cardboard boxes, ketchup packets and plastic straws. 

“Hi mom.” Jacob said quietly. He smiled and reached out to her.  His mom smiled and closed the space between them with a quick extension of her arms and squeezed him in a tight embrace.

“Come in before it starts raining on you.” She said, Jacob laughed in response.  His mom loved the rain and was always hoping for it.

Stepping inside, there was an obvious absence. He was always greeted with the pitter patter of small feet, a high pitched yapping, and a bite at the ankles.

 “Mom, where’s Cujo?”

“Oh…” A sadness filled her eyes and in an instant it was gone.  “He ran away. I went out to check the mail and he snuck out.”

“I’m sorry mom. You had him for so long. Almost eleven years if I’m correct.” Jacob rubbed her shoulder and gave her a half hug. His mom stayed silent. Time to change the subject; he didn’t want his mom to feel any sadness tonight.

“It smells delicious in here. Is that your famous garlic bread I smell?”  His mom laughed and, looking slightly embarrassed, nodded.

There wasn’t much conversation between the two. That was usually how the night went for them when they got together. Jacob felt uncomfortable while sitting at the dinner table waiting to be served. He felt like a child waiting for a scolding, but forgetting what it was that he did wrong. He tapped his foot against the leg of the table, hoping his mom didn’t pick up on the slight movement of his leg.  His palms were damp and he felt his eyelid start to twitch.  His mother placed a dinner plate in front of him filled with lasagna, salad, and some meat sauce in a dipping cup. She served herself and came to the table with a basket filled with garlic bread. Dinner smelled delicious and he wondered at the oddity of it all.  His memories of her cooking were few and in between. It’s not that she couldn’t cook, it’s that she wouldn’t. The thought of her slaving over a home cooked meal did nothing to put his mind at ease.  It actually made him more apprehensive. His mother was still silent as she served their drinks and brought them to the table. Jacob glanced up and met her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here,” his mother said, almost in a whisper.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jacob replied half jokingly.

His mom looked down, and managed to look simultaneously nervous and relieved.

“It is time son, to break bread,” his mother said softly. Jacob knew he had a puzzled look on his face and exclaimed “Finally!” in an effort to hide his confusion.

His mother simply looked at him.

“It’s time I share something with you. I realize this is unusual and unexpected, but I’ve had an epiphany of sorts.”

Jacob tried to think of something to say in response to his mom’s words, but his mind was a blind slate. He had no idea where this was going.

“Don’t say anything. Just listen,” his mom said.

She reached out and covered his hand in hers. She was nervous, he could feel it. He glanced up at her and saw the slight quiver of her bottom lip.

“What is it mom?”

“I was not the mom I should've been. I never built the type of relationship that a mother and son should have.”

Jacob’s fingers trembled under his mothers. Unconsciously, he tried to pull his hand away, but she grasped his hand tighter.

“No, just listen. I need to say this,” she pleaded.

“I love you, and I always have, and I always will. I know I’m not as close to you as I should be, but starting today, this minute, this second, I want to give you the love that you’ve deserved for so long.”

“I wasn’t the best mom, but I won’t make excuses.”

Jacob replayed the words his mother had spoken. The words themselves were unexpected, yet touching, but it was the tone of her voice that shook him to his core. He had never heard such sincerity or pain from his mom. It nearly crushed him.

“Mom, you don’t have to do this.” he whispered shakily.

“Yes baby, I do. Too much time has gone by. I can’t imagine what I put you through, and I should've been there.”

Jacob had no idea his mom felt this way. He always knew there was a distance between them, but it was always a quiet distance. He never blamed her; he did however always wished to be closer. 

He felt a tension that he didn't even know he carried slipped away. His eyes moistened, and he blinked, and he blinked in a failing attempt to avoid tears. This was something he had been waiting for for so long. These were the words he didn’t know he desperately needed to hear. A single solitary tear slipped through the armor of his eyelid and down his cheek. His mother wiped away his tear. The simplicity of the contact made him smile. He let out a deep breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding and opened his eyes. The lights in his mother’s kitchen no longer felt harsh. 

“Thank you.”  he told his mom.

He said nothing else, but it wasn’t due to a lack of words; but simply because those two words expressed what he was feeling completely.

“Let’s eat mom.”