been long. It had taken me four buses to get here, and I’d set off at four AM so as not to miss the small time frame I had to get inside the prison.
Then, I’d had to wait outside, and there’d been a kind of siren that went off for a few minutes which had made me wonder if things would be called off, then a door had opened, and people who were more accustomed to visiting than me had climbed out of their cars, trudged over to the door, and lined up.
I followed.
I’d been patted down, checked over, sneered at, ignored by a few guards, and all to reach this moment.
A moment I’d never anticipated because how could you anticipate visiting your mother when you believed she was dead?
I hung back, purposely letting the other women, men, and kids reach their tables and their friend or family member, all while I went to the vending machine and grabbed some snacks.
I’d been reading up on the way prisons worked, and this food was sometimes the only treats prisoners got, so I’d brought enough change with me to make me worry someone would mug me every time I switched buses because I jangled so damn hard I sounded like I was a piggy bank, and I got to work.
I pretty much picked one of everything in the twenty-five item strong vending machine, and my arms were full as I headed over to the one table in the room where a guest wasn’t sitting.
She was still beautiful.
That was my first thought.
Her hair was long, but it was streaked with gray now, even though she was only thirty-four, and she wore it in a tight bun that pulled at her face. Her eyes were tired, and there was a bitter twist to her lips as she saw me looking at her.
She was, also, as thin as me. That came as a surprise. She looked sick, and I wasn’t sure if I could deal with that, not when Vinnie was sick too.
Hell, I’d only spoken to her yesterday, and we’d had to end the call because she couldn’t stop coughing.
But I had to take comfort in the fact that I couldn’t see her aura. Surely if she was sick, I’d have sensed it? I had to hope that was the case.
I dumped all the treats on the table, thinking I was glad I’d brought the change because she looked like she needed a good meal, and then I muttered, “Momma?”
She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth at that, and I saw her bite down for a second, just as she dipped her chin and burrowed it in her chest. A ragged sigh escaped her, and I watched as she tightened her hands, clawing them slightly, even as she tried to get control of herself.
That she was affected was clear, and I was starting to think I really was a horrible person, because I was glad.
Glad because she felt something for me.
Glad because she cared. Hell, that much was clear from the way she responded to my greeting.
So few people gave a shit about me that it was a relief to know there was someone here who cared if I lived.
I let her process, let her deal with my presence, and for a while, I was really happy just to look at her.
Just to sit and watch her mannerisms, to take in her appearance.
Then, she surprised me.
Her eyes no longer remained on the table, she moved to look at me, and she murmured, “You’re just like Nicodemus.”
Even though that shouldn’t hurt, that those were her first words to me stung.
Badly.
I flinched, and jerked back like she slapped me, but she shook her head at the sight, even as she reached up and tugged at her bottom lip again. “Nicodemus was the most beautiful man you could ever imagine.”
So there was a compliment in there?
If I was a boy.
Great.
“I loved him, you know,” she rasped. “He loved me.”
I had no idea what to say to that.
No idea whatsoever.
For a second, I felt like a goldfish, incapable of doing anything other than gaping at her, mouth opening and closing.
Whatever I’d expected her to say, whatever I’d expected her to do, this visit hadn’t started out as planned.
I mean, I knew she wouldn’t be able to hug me. While that sucked, I got it. But, from the way she was sitting there, I got the feeling she wouldn’t have hugged me anyway.