Dropping his hand, he smiled. “You went above and beyond to repair what was broken. Your mother might not be able to move past her grief right now, but eventually, she’ll learn to see that you are her only remaining son and you fought for her safety every day of your life. She does love you. Probably too much and that’s why she has kept her distance.”
Elder nodded, unconvinced. “Regardless, I can accept her need never to see me again now I know she’s safe.” He bowed. “Goodbye, Ojisan. Thank you for giving her the family I stole from her.”
Elder took my hand and pulled me away from the house.
I didn’t ask questions or pause to see if his mother only needed time to cry before running out with arms outstretched and love scripted on her heart.
We reached the gate, trading quaint garden path for street curb. I looked back, expecting to see the front door closed and no grieving widower watching her son disappear.
Instead, I gasped as Elder’s mother clutched the frame with a hand balled over her heart. She never took her eyes off Elder and he froze to the spot as he met her gaze.
They stared for an eternity.
They stared for a lifetime.
And then, finally, after so much bitterness and heartbreak, she nodded.
A single nod, a simple bow. A motion that spoke of heaviness and pain and years of bottling up emotional tragedy.
A thank you. An apology. An acknowledgment that she no longer needed to live with ghosts.
Elder nodded back.
And then we left as if that soul-tearing moment hadn’t been years of struggle to reach. As if there was nothing to celebrate now the ice had cracked and a thaw had finally begun.
It’d happened so fast.
We’d sailed all this way for a ten-minute visit.
I wanted to do something to encourage love to sprout and laughter to fall, but I didn’t know how. This wasn’t my place, and I didn’t want to make it worse by interfering.
Elder seemed satisfied with what his mother had granted.
I had to be, too.
As we climbed into the car and Selix jumped into the driver’s seat, I snuggled close to Elder who hadn’t relaxed at all.
He sat stiff and poised as if shell-shocked that his mother had finally shown a different side to her cruelty.
Wrapping my arms around his middle, I pressed a kiss to his throat. “I know she loves you.”
My voice broke his spell.
Gathering me close, he returned my kiss, placing a delicate one on my hair just as he’d done for his mother. “Thanks to you, Pim, I no longer need her forgiveness to be happy. We’ve spent so long apart now that I can live the rest of my life without her in it as long as you are with me. At least I can die knowing she’s safe and I’ve done my best to fix what I broke.”
Family were fragile creatures, and I didn’t know if his mother would reach out again or be satisfied with this ending.
All I could do was be his new family for as long as he wanted me.
* * * * *
We didn’t return to the Phantom that night, or the next, or the next.
We spent a week exploring New York, eating in a variety of restaurants, staying in different hotels to sample all styles of architecture and lifestyle in the city.
The first two days exploring, Elder was quiet, his mind still on his mother. I’d dreamed of a happier reunion—of her leaping into her oldest son’s arms and promising never to be distant again. I still flinched in hope whenever Elder’s phone rang—hoping it was a belated apologises or invitations to talk and share.
But no call came, and we continued living as two. Well, three technically.
Selix was always by our sides, exploring and delivering sarcastic quips on locals and tourists alike.
The week flew by and New York showed us her best, but as much as I loved the bustling, vibrant metropolis, I was ready for the rock and sway of the ocean.
On our last night in the city, we went to dinner in an exclusive club reserved for Wall Street officials.
Elder was invited by a client who’d ordered a yacht earlier last year and wanted to introduce him to some cashed up friends who wished to order something similar.
Just like with the meeting with the prince in Morocco, I listened proudly beside Elder as he took control of the meeting with his effortless charism and skill, scribbling amendments on blueprints before scanning them back to his workers at the warehouse.
Unlike Morocco, this time I talked if a question was asked. This time, I was confident to converse with men in four-thousand-dollar suits and wives in fifty-thousand-dollar diamonds.
I was no longer afraid of this world—they were just people, and I was with Elder. And he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.