All disclaimers apply: Don't read this if you're not suppose to, duplication/distribution requires the permission of the author, this story is fictitious and any similarity to persons alive or dead is coincidental.
A big thank you to all the people who responded it really does motivate me to write. Also sorry for the break I was really busy : )
Milo and Other Grains Part 3
The plan. That's what they called it. And I knew what to do by heart. We all agreed that when things got too much for my mom that I would move in with grandpa and my mom and Cindy would go through with it. It being my mom taking her own life. She had told Cindy months ago that she would not starve away to nothing or scream in agony in her last moments on earth. Her one last stand against this disease was for her to take her life, not cancer.
This was no ordinary plan either, it was detailed, one last family dinner with prearranged topics for discussion. And a detailed menu for her last meal. It was as if she was a prisoner awaiting execution. I know all of this sounds strange, but my mother is kind of a strange woman, well I like to think of it as eccentric. She always got her way too. Grandpa wanted nothing to do with it, although he did reluctantly agree to make some of his famous potato salad for her last meal.
I packed the rest of my things and called into work telling them that my mother's condition had worsened. I can't believe this is really happening. I text Atticus and let him know I won't be around tonight. And then I escape to my room and cry, trying to be as silent as I can. I don't want my mother to hear me, she is already in so much pain and she doesn't need to feel guilty about leaving me as an orphan. An orphan, how odd.
I never knew my father and neither did my mom. My mom was kind of wild during her college years and she became pregnant with me when she was a senior. She moved back in with Grandpa had me and started working as a teacher right away. She had a few relationships in the past decade but none really stuck. I always blamed myself, single moms are not that much in demand, and I'm the reason she was a single mom.
She is still in her room but clearly awake with all the commotion. Cindy would check on her only to get shooed away. My mom wanted to get dressed by herself, she is so stubborn. I help Cindy prepare a huge meal filled with my mother's favorites.
"Milo, hand me those peaches." I turn to find them and give them to her and as I do she grabs my hand, "Milo are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, I guess as much as I can be right?"
"Damn it Milo, this whole act has to stop, I know this is killing you, but you bury it inside, I can tell, I do the same thing." I don't answer, I just blankly stare back at her, "I know we already discussed it but you can always move in with me and Valerie and the kids. You know we would love to have you move in, we have an extra room."
"Cindy we've been over this, I'm moving in with Gramps, that's the plan," We have been over this again and again, I want to move in with Gramps but Cindy wants me to move into her house, I'm guessing for the free babysitting. Cindy and her partner Valerie have six kids together. One from Cindy's former marriage, (to a man) and the other five from Valerie's addiction to going to the sperm bank. Their home is amazing, its out in the country and its massive. But its filled with screaming toddlers and one spoiled tween girl. I'd pick my grandpa's house any day of the week.
"Dad," My aunt rushes to him as he opens the door.
"Cindy, wait a minute I have to set this down," My grandpa sets his potato salad down and hugs Cindy who starts to tear up.
We are all rushing around, setting the table and awaiting my mother, and then she opens the door and strolls out. She has made herself over, It's been so long since I've seen her in makeup and a dress. She looks frail but in good spirits and she is smiling.
We sit and have dinner and laugh and tell the same old jokes and stories we always do and it feels great and I try to let it all sink into me.
My mother doesn't eat the food, rather she taste it and spits it into a napkin, as it has become hard for her to swallow much of anything. She is feeling more and more tired and we all gather around her on her bed. It's getting closer, my aunt is a vet and she takes my mother's morphine and adjusts it to complete the act for which we are all here. My mom looks at me and smiles and says, "Milo, I guess you're waiting for some kind of advice but the thing is you don't need any I already know you'll be fine," We each hug her and Grandpa and me head to his house. Cindy has the rest planned, she calls the coroner who is a friend of her's and they make all the arrangements.
I know my mom is dead but I like to think that she is still sleeping, in that bed where I left her, looking so peaceful.
My grandpa puts his arm around me on the drive home but we say nothing to each other. The weight of the situation is hitting us even though we both knew this end result.
We enter his house and I go into my new room as my grandpa starts calling friends and family from his small office. I try to sleep.
Those next two weeks went by in a haze, the wake, the visitors, the endless stream of casserole dishes mysteriously awaiting our return every time we left the house. I appreciated the thought but would have rather just tucked myself in my bed for awhile until I could deal with this on my own. A week after the funeral, me and my grandpa's lives were returning to some normalcy, the farm kept us busy and that was the best medicine for me, I begged grandpa to let me go back to work at IGA early but he said it was out of the question. When I was busy with some task I wouldn't think about her, I wouldn't think about all the times I would wake up on Saturday morning to the smell of bacon and pancakes, I wouldn't think about the times that she would race me to the mailbox or when she would rush in the house to excitedly tell me that she picked the first ripe strawberry in her garden. I wouldn't think of her and it wouldn't be so hard.
Atticus had come to the wake and the funeral with his parents. My mom and Atticus' parents were acquaintances and Atticus was in my mom's first grade class. He really didn't talk to me much, he kinda walked over with his head down shuffling his feet and told me how sorry he was. I don't get that line, "I'm so sorry," I kept getting it from everyone. Sorry for what, it's not like you killed my mom, I guess it's sorry for me, people feeling sorry for me. Thanks, I guess. Poor Milo, the little orphan boy, what an awful life. I guess I'm getting bitter, people just wanted to help but the thing is, there is no help anyone can offer, unless of course you have the power to raise people from the dead.
Atticus has been texting me, along with everybody else at school, most of them didn't even have my number before this but they were nice enough. They sent me condolences or invitations to go somewhere whenever I felt up for it. I didn't think it would take my mom's death to make me popular, but here we are.
I go back to work today, I think it will be good to get back into my routine. And I really want to get high tonight, with Atticus. My thoughts are beginning to linger away from my mom for longer periods of time and I don't know why but I feel guilty. Is this how it goes, I just stop remembering her, that somehow feels like it cheapens the relationship we had. But on the other hand I can't get into some ten year depressing funk, my mom would definitely not appreciate that if she were still here.
"Milo, MILO! Are upstairs?"
"Yeah Gramps, what's up? I leave my room and walk down the stairs.
"Get down here and eat some damn breakfast, we've got some work to do today."
I finish breakfast and head out to start my chores. I open the door and hit a wall of heat. I feed all the animals and clean their enclosures except for Rosco's. This fucking horse, argh! Every time I see him it makes me mad, mad at Rosco for being a horrible horse and mad at my grandpa for buying this thing and making me care for it. I swallow my anger and make my way towards Rosco. I head around back and open the gate this time making sure to quickly get out of the way. Then I start to clean out Rosco's barn and he is out in the field or at least I thought so, I forgot to shut the gate behind me and now I have this psycho horse nearing me huffing. I am paralyzed with fear, from a horse, this is so ridiculous. My heart is beating like crazy, Rosco moves even closer, oh my gawd I have heard rumors that some horses bite and I do not want to be the one to confirm it. He is looking me in the eyes and then I gather what little courage I have and reach out to pet him and he doesn't freak out, his demeanor softens and I am laughing out loud, Rosco isn't mean, he's a big old baby. He rests his head on my shoulder.
I tell him, "Aww, you aren't so mean are ya Rosco," And I finish cleaning his stall. I run to the barn to tell Glen. I am high on adrenaline and I am laughing running towards him. He greets me with a peculiar look on his face. I am guessing he's trying to figure out what's up with me and my out of place jovial demeanor.
"What's going on?" He asks.
"I just petted Rosco, while I was in his barn with him in it!"
"That's awesome!" Glen grabs me and picks me up hugging me.
"I know isn't it crazy!" I state.
Glen sets me back down. "You know it's great seeing you like this again,"
"Seeing me like this, what do you mean," I ask.
Glen looks me in the eyes and hesitates a little, "It seems like it's been months since I've seen you smile,"
"Shut up Glen, you make me sound like some depression case,"
"Well, it's completely natural to be depressed, I mean with everything going on. I mean if you ever want to talk about anything."
I stop with my mouth agape. "Well I guess that's a good way to wipe the smile off of my face." I get up and walk away. I realize it was a dick move almost immediately. It's awkward to talk to someone who has lost a loved one. But it's also awkward to be asked about losing a loved one too. Still I shouldn't of did that and I turn back to him.
"Glen, wait, I don't know why I snapped like that."
"It's okay Milo." He beckons me with his hand to sit next to him on a bale of hay.
"It's crazy Glen, I don't know what to do, I wake up in the middle of the night wanting to check on her only to realize she isn't there. I feel like I have forgot something every time I leave. I think about her pain killers at noon. And I don't know if I'll ever be okay anymore." I start to cry and Glen hugs onto me.
"It's okay, just let it out, it's gonna be alright Milo."
I gather myself and Glen asks me, "Hey what are you doing Saturday night?"
"Nothing," I respond.
"Well how about you and me hang out, at least you won't be getting into trouble," He looks at me pleadingly. And I agree.
I get ready for work and Stacy, a cashier who works the same shift as me, picks me up.
She greets me with a meek "hey," and I greet her with the same. We start down the drive in silence and then I finally speak up.
"So what's been going on with work, the place didn't crumble without me there did it?"
Stacy smiles, "Yeah right, more like we've doubled productivity," My little joke opens her up. "So Milo, I know you have probably gotten a lot of it but, how are ya doing?"
"I'm doing alright, considering," I pause and look at her, "It's weird you know, I knew she was going to die for months and I thought we were given some kind of gift, like some kind of comfort not being surprised by her death. But really it only made things worse, we were just living with this dark cloud that kept advancing." "Now that she's gone I almost feel better in a way, sort of like she found peace, real suffering free bliss." "Alright enough of that... have you heard any new songs, watched any new movies, heard any good rumors? I look at her and she smiles,
"Nope, not really" "Well actually when I think of it I did hear one good rumor, I heard Glen Myers is gay.""But I don't think you're that lucky Milo." Stacy finishes smiling.
I tilt my head and smirk, "Shut up Stacy, plus what makes you think I would be interested in Glen?"
"Well he's hot and you're gay, that sounds like a match to me."
We arrive at work and begin walking towards the door. I say to Stacy, " he's not hot. . .cute maybe."
The whole day is filled with my co workers and some customers walking on eggshells and showing their sympathies to me and I find it very sweet. I think I am getting better at this whole "letting people in" business.
I text Atticus and tell him that I want to get high after work. Seeing as I don't live that close to Atticus anymore he offers to pick me up after work.
I then call my grandpa to tell him I'm going out after work, and he reluctantly agrees after giving me a lecture about how this is test to see if I can wake up tomorrow to help him and Glen on the farm.
What is it about work time, I look at the clock and its 7:47, I swear it was 7:42 three hours ago.
"Milo get in!"
"What?" I respond. Tim another bagboy and Stacy have a shopping cart and want me to get in, I jump in and they start careening this shopping cart through the aisles and into the employee break room and through the landing dock outside. We come to a stop. "What was that about," I ask while laughing.
Stacy answers in a thundering voice, "You committed the ancient grocery store sin of clock watching,"
"So I'm guessing Rick is gone," Rick is our store manager and when he leaves this store goes crazy, there's hardly any customers and Stacy, Tim and me can finally go outside and smoke. Rick doesn't allow the underage employees to smoke on his watch.
I am glad to be back at work, I know that sounds crazy but my mood is finally getting better after months of self pity and mourning.
Part 4 is in the works