Page 55 of Changing Lanes

Almost forgetting the man with my hair in a vice grip, I open my eyes to watch my mother approach. She used to say that all the time. That was her preferred threat when any of us kids got out of line. It was scary as hell when she got the wooden spoon out. The notorious spoon was rarely used on me but the few times it was were more memorable than any other punishment I’ve ever received. The fact that she just used it in protection of me like she’s done countless times has my frenzied heart soaring.

And she’s out of her room, walking, and talking. This is the most interaction I’ve seen from her.

If only it was under different circumstances.

“Stay there, Ms. Christensen,” Cynthia orders.

My mom continues advancing, unaware Dennis is twisting my hair in his clutches in time with her steps. He swings us both around until my face is almost pressed to the spot on the wall where the mug was just broken.

Cynthia frantically calls the new night nurse over the radio for back-up.

Latching one hand over Dennis’s to try to ease the strain, I throw up my other palm to my mom, gritting out as professionally as possible, “Please go back to your room, Ms. Christensen. We’ll take care of it.”

I can’t allow anything to happen to my mom and Dennis is off the fucking rails right now. He’s never behaved like this in all the time I’ve been here, night shift or otherwise. I can take a hit if I need to, my mother won’t though. No other patient will. Not on my shift.

“You heard me, young man. Get your hands off her or so help me…”

I close my eyes against the tears leaking out. Another saying from my childhood. She’s remembering things. More of her old self is showing through instead of the withdrawn version she’s been recently.

“You can’t have her! She’s leaving and it’s all your fault,” Dennis rages, not caring one bit he’s being threatened by a mother of five. Anyone else would know better.

She takes a determined step forward, more fire in her voice than I could’ve hoped to hear during these times.

“Mom, stay where you are,” I rush out.

Shit.

It just slipped out.

My mother halts finally, staring up at me blankly. Hope chooses now of all times to show her fucking insatiable self, and I curse the day I let her into my life. Again.

Please. Please see me. See me, goddamn it!

But she is seeing me, isn’t she? That’s why she’s out here in the first place. Something called to her. Something inside me maybe. A broken heart calling for help. A call any good mother would come running to answer no matter what…right?

“Dennis, release Paige now or I have to use this,” the other nurse, Naomi, interrupts, holding a full syringe that she passes off to Cynthia.

My mother blinks, looking around like she doesn’t know how she got here.

No. Just give me a little more time.

Behind me, I hear Cynthia ask, “Won’t his other medication counteract it?”

“No, he hasn’t received any today. I checked.”

My stomach plummets. What? No wonder he’s a mess. Dennis needs his medication every day. Without it, well, this happens. Today is a prime fucking example why people like Vernon get paid as much as they do. Because the medication is that important.

“Dennis, let go please.”

My neck burns from working so hard to counter the pressure he’s applying and noticing the mug shards still clinging to the wall, I push back that much harder to keep from exfoliating my face with the sharp pieces.

“We’ll get this all cleaned up and get you to bed, okay? Don’t you want to get some sleep? It’s been a long night.” Made longer without Dennis getting his proper treatment.

“Honey, you’re not cleaning this up. He made the mess, he’ll fix it.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Now is not the time for Mom to start regurgitating all her parenting rules.

“Ma’am, step back.”