7
“Mommy, I love you too, I love you very, very much,” I told Mom.
Mom had her eyes closed and didn’t respond.
I kissed Mom’s cheek. Mom loved it most when I kissed her.
She said I was her little angel, a treasure more precious than her life.
Then I smelled a strange odor on Mom.
I didn’t like that smell. My mom was always clean, fragrant, and soft. She never smelled
like that.
I went to the bathroom, got Mom’s usual body wash, and rubbed it on her. But it only smelled nice for a while, and then that smell returned.
“Mommy, wake up!” I couldn’t help but cry.
The more I cried, the sadder I got. Outside, thunder rumbled and it started to rain.
I was most afraid of thunder. I hid under the covers, too scared to come out.
But Mom had said to grow up brave, not to be afraid.
I crawled out from under the covers again, wanting to call Dad again, to tell him Mom
wouldn’t wake up even after taking medicine, that Mom was very, very sick.
But the phone screen was black. I couldn’t find where to make a call.
I was charging it, why was it still black?
I thought Dad would call. He must have heard the thunder too.
When it thundered before, he’d come to my room and stay with Mom and me.
He said I was too timid, like a little mouse.
I angrily told him, “I’m not a little mouse! I’m not!”
“Then what are you?” he asked me.
I put my hands on my hips and told him defiantly, “I’m your little darling!”
He laughed then. Mom laughed too.
I admit, he looked better than Leo’s dad back then.
But he didn’t smile often, so he wasn’t handsome for very long.
I waited and waited, until the thunder stopped and the rain stopped, but Dad still didn’t
call.
