Just One Orgasm!

Kylie lowered her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. At least, not here, and not in front of her.

She had promised herself.

She’d cried in the car. She’d cried in the shower. She’d cried once in the bathroom.

She had cried in bed earlier today to brace herself for this visit. She had cried quietly into a pillow because sometimes even crying felt too loud.

She wouldn’t cry here.

Her mother didn’t need another person looking broken.

Kylie pulled a small paper bag from her handbag.

"I brought you something."

Her mother didn’t respond.

Kylie placed the bag on the table. "Chocolate."

Her mother said nothing.

"Your favorite."

Her mother looked at the bag.

Kylie smiled. "You’ll love it."

Her mother frowned. "I don’t eat chocolate."

Kylie raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Her mother looked at her. "I don’t."

Kylie leaned back. Her brow raised in confusion, but she immediately brushed it off. She pointed toward the bag.

"Then I’ll eat it." She pulled out the box. "Actually, that’s probably why you never gave me any."

Her mother stared at her.

Kylie opened the box. "Because you’re selfish." She said softly, hoping an old joke would ring a bell in her mother’s head.

A tiny crease appeared between her mother’s brows.

Kylie smiled.

Her mother looked confused.

Kylie immediately looked down. "Sorry. I’m going to eat your chocolates now." She took a piece of chocolate.

"Old joke."

Her mother watched her.

Kylie ate it softly. "Still good." She offered the box. "Want some?"

Her mother shook her head.

Kylie nodded. "More for me."

Silence settled between them.

Kylie looked around the room. There was a vase of artificial flowers on the windowsill.

She remembered how much her mother hated fake flowers.

"They’re pointless," she’d once said. "They don’t die. That’s exactly why they’re pointless."

Kylie smiled at the memory.

"Remember when you hated fake flowers?"

Her mother looked at her blankly.

Kylie pointed toward the vase. "You used to say they were pointless."

She got no response from her mum.

Kylie’s smile weakened. "You said flowers were supposed to die." She paused. "That sounded depressing when you said it."

Her mother looked toward the window.

Kylie watched her. "I didn’t understand it then." She rubbed her thumb against her palm. "I think I do now."

Her mother didn’t answer.

Kylie leaned back.

For a while, she simply sat there.

She talked about school.

She complained about herself. She told her mother about Emilia, and how she has grown. She complained about graduating. She complained about life.

Her mother listened.

Sometimes she looked at Kylie, sometimes she looked out the window, and sometimes she smiled without understanding why.

Kylie didn’t correct her.

It was enough. For nearly an hour, Kylie pretended nothing had changed.

Then her mother suddenly asked, "Are you married?"

Kylie blinked. "No."

"Why?"

Kylie smiled. "Because I’m difficult."

Her mother laughed softly. It was faint, but it was there.

Kylie stared at her.

Her mother’s smile disappeared slowly.

Kylie smiled wider. She felt something inside her loosen.

However, her mother frowned the next second. "Have we met before?"

Kylie stopped.

Her smile remained, but her eyes changed. "Yes."

"When?"

Kylie looked at her. "Today."

Her mother shook her head. "No."

Kylie swallowed. "Okay." She raised her hands in agreement, coding softly so she wouldn’t provoke her mum.

Her mother looked toward the window again.

Kylie picked up the chocolate box. "Do you want another one?"

Her mother shook her head.

Kylie nodded. She put it away, then she looked at the clock.

She still had twenty minutes before she needed to leave.

Twenty minutes.

She suddenly hated clocks. She hated how everything in the world had to end eventually.

She stood.

Her mother looked at her.

"Are you leaving?"

Kylie froze. She hadn’t exeocted her mum to ask. "Not yet."

"You should stay."

Kylie smiled. "I will."

Her mother looked relieved.

Kylie sat again. "See?" She held up her hands. "Not going anywhere."

Her mother smiled.

Kylie looked away.

If her father had understood that love wasn’t supposed to require surviving someone, then they wouldn’t be here.

Kylie remembered the day she’d learned about Randall.

She’d been younger. Young enough that adults thought she didn’t understand, and old enough to understand every word anyway.

Her mother had been pregnant, and her father had been angry. Very angry about another child.

He had been drinking, and shouting. When her mother tried to walk away, he’d followed her.

Kylie remembered the sound of something hitting the wall.bShe remembered her mother’s voice.

She remembered being told to go to her room. She remembered sitting on her bed with her hands pressed over her ears.

She remembered thinking that if she stayed quiet enough, everything would stop.

It didn’t.

Randall never made it into the world, and her mother was rushed into the emergency section of the hospital.

Her father called it an accident.

Kylie never did.

She had never forgiven him.

Not then, and not now.

She never would.

Her mother suddenly looked at her. "Randall should be here."

Kylie’s heart stopped.

Her mother smiled faintly. "He’d be big now."

Kylie couldn’t speak.

"He’d be..." Her mother frowned. "How old would he be?"

Kylie looked at her.

"About..." She stopped. Her voice wouldn’t come.

Her mother waited.

Kylie forced a smile.

Her mother reached across the table. For a second, Kylie thought she was going to touch her hand.

Instead, her fingers stopped halfway.

Her mother stared at her.

Kylie waited.

Slowly, her mother pulled her hand back. She blinked twice, and searched Kylie’s eyes. "I don’t know you."

Her mother looked frightened.

Kylie immediately softened her voice. "It’s okay."

The nurse appeared again at the doorway.

Kylie glanced at the clock. Her twenty minutes were gone.

She stood. "I’ll come again."

Her mother looked at her.

Kylie swallowed. She picked up her handbag. "I’m Kylie."

Her mother’s brows knitted.

Kylie forced herself to smile. "Your daughter. Please don’t forget that."

Her mother looked uncertain.

Kylie walked toward the door.

She stopped before leaving.

For one second, she turned around.

Her mother was still sitting by the window.

Kylie looked at her.

She wanted to say a thousand things. She wanted to tell her that she remembered everything.

That she remembered the woman her mother had been. The mother who sang badly in the kitchen.

The mother who stayed awake when Kylie had nightmares, and the mother who had once whispered that everything would be okay.

Kylie wanted to tell her that she was still her daughter.

Even if her mother couldn’t remember. Even if tomorrow she forgot again. Even if one day she looked at Kylie and saw a complete stranger.

She smiled. "Bye, Mum."

Her mother stared at her.

Kylie opened the door.

She stepped into the hallway.

The moment the door closed behind her, her smile disappeared.

She walked on. She made it halfway down the hallway before she stopped.

Her hand covered her mouth, and a sob escaped her lips. She bent her head. Her shoulders shook once as she tried to hold in her tears.

She wiped her face quickly.

A nurse passed by and pretended not to notice.

Kylie appreciated that. She quickly walked toward the exit. Outside, the afternoon sun was bright.

She stood on the steps and looked up.

For a few seconds, she simply breathed. Then, she took a shaky breath, and smiled as she walked toward the parking lot.

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