“Whatever, buddy.”
I opened my mouth to argue back, my temper rising, but Gem and her mom came toward us. They both wore matching smiles, and I noticed the similarities between the two women. Just like in the home movie, Gem’s mother had an aura of perpetual sadness in her stare. Sadness that I was well acquainted with—loss and grief and tragedy.
I scooted higher in my chair as Gem smiled at me and took the seat on the opposite side of the table. Her mother sat next to her. When they’d settled, she looked at me. “Apart from the hug this morning and a hasty introduction, we haven’t met properly.” Gem’s mom waved at me from across the table. “I was just so happy to have my girl back that I forgot to go over the niceties, I’m afraid. I’m Margaret, but everyone calls me Maggie.”
I bowed my head, doing my best to come across as someone worthy of her daughter. “I’m Kassen.”
“Interesting name.”
I shared a look with Gem. “It’s from a book, actually.”
“Oh? Which one?”
“A book of fables.” Tension gathered in my muscles, and a flicker of whiteness covered my stare. I waited it out, breathing shallowly for a few seconds until the garden returned. Gem gave me an encouraging smile, and my memory stayed exactly where it should be.
I sighed and allowed myself to relax a bit more.
I’d taken another pill when no one was looking.
Every hour that passed, I felt less under the shadow of my pain and more in the sun of my possibility.
The doctor was right.
The micro blackouts would pass eventually, along with all the other mess inside my head. As long as I could stay with this family and continue loving Gem...I’d be fine. No matter who I was or what became of me.
* * * * *
“Ready?”
I looked up from the carpet picnic that Gem had produced. “You bought all of this?”
“Yep.” She leaned forward and started to open the lids of numerous containers. Scents of herbs, spices, and delicious food wafted up. “I went to just get Mexican, but then I figured, you probably haven’t had an array of different food and definitely not in a very long time, so I went a bit nuts.” She laughed.
I rubbed my temples. There was a sea of containers. How much did each one of those cost, and what did I owe her?
She’d mentioned she was popping out to grab something quick and easy, seeing as she hadn’t replaced anything in her fridge from her disappearance, and I’d let her go on her own because...well, I had a splitting headache from spending the day in people’s company. And I didn’t trust myself around a crowd yet, especially with the whiteness teasing me more and more as I grew tired.
I’d held my own with her brother and mother. I hadn’t had too many white moments and didn’t attack anyone, which was an improvement. I’d been on my best behavior even when Josh did his best to get a rise out of me. Her mother never asked about the broken TV or displaced frames from the walls, and not once did I catch her staring at me as if any moment she’d call the police and have me taken away from her daughter. Despite my scars, despite Gemma’s bruises...her mother accepted what we told her.
That we’d met. Fallen in love. And were building a life together.
And as much as it hurt to socialize—with my concussion still upsetting my balance and mental processes—they stayed for most of the day.
I’d done my best to stay normal.
Most of the time, I didn’t have to participate in conversations as Gem’s family chatted about her video channel, what they went through trying to find her, and what Gem’s plans were now that she was back home.
Occasionally, Maggie would direct the conversation toward me, but after my confessions to Josh, along with the strain of being around lots of energies after eleven years of nothing, I was content to just sit and listen.
By the time they left, I was ready to sag against the wall and fall asleep.
But it was sleep that still scared me, so I popped another pill, let Gem go and grab dinner, all while I’d indulged in a hot (thank you, God) shower and stared at myself in the foggy bathroom mirror, trying to figure out a way to sleep safely beside Gem tonight, instead of assigning myself the couch.
“Dig in.” Gemma handed me a plate. “There’s Indian—not too spicy. Italian—very creamy. Mexican—very zesty. Thai—very fragrant. And a cheeseburger and fries—very yummy.” She grinned. “You’ve already had one of those, so I figured if nothing else interested you, at least you knew what to expect with a burger.”
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
She shrugged and spooned a helping of something orange and pungent onto her plate. “Don’t mention it. It’s an honor to experience things with you. It’s like I’m enjoying it for the first time too.” She took a bite of whatever she’d chosen. “Wow, that’s good.” Her eyes glazed over. “Butter chicken and jasmine rice. You know...if you ever end up in the wilderness again, you need to pack a rack of spices to liven up the bland vegetables.”