If Someday Never Comes

Chapter 11

Sydney's POV

Anger is coursing through my body as quickly as the tequila shot I just downed. Is Brooks Dawson really that full of himself that he would think I would come home for the first time in five years just to get him back? What a cocky, arrogant, self-absorbed...my blood boils in my veins as I continue to move to the music floating out of the jukebox. Feeling my body tense under his touch Jake leans forward to whisper in my ear, "You good?" 

I shake the murderous thoughts of Brooks from my mind as I turn around to face Jake. Brooks may be an asshole but he is right that Jake doesn't deserve for me to mess with his head. I look up at him, "Yeah, I don't want to lead you on Jake, I will only be around here for a few weeks at most."

"I'll take what I can get with you Sydney Graves. You're the one regret I have from high school. I was so into you and I let the chance I had to take you out pass me by." His soft smile made my heart flutter. A feeling I hadn't had in a really long time, Jake was always so sweet but I had been too distracted by Brooks to ever give any real attention to anyone else. Even if I knew this wouldn't go anywhere maybe I could let myself just enjoy it for the moment. 

I squint my eyes at him and smile, "Does that line work on all the girls?" 

"The only girl I'm interested in it working with is you." He steps a little closer and places a gentle kiss on my cheek before saying, "Give me one sec." he moves toward the music, throws a few quarters in, and as the chords of Neon Moon fall away, the soft voice of Kenny Rodgers We've Got Tonight rolls through the room. 

"Sydney Graves, may I have this dance?" Jake offers his hand to me and I know my face is 10 shades of red. Everyone around us has started pairing off, Riley grabbed onto Quinn and they were spinning around laughing as they pretended not to be staring at us. I bite my bottom lip as I contemplate my choice, my head telling me this is a terrible idea but the loneliness in my heart is curious, I slowly slide my hand into his, "Of course." 

He pulls me into his chest and we begin to slowly move back and forth as his hand floats to my lower back, my face brushed up next to his our hands intertwined. We move in a circle so that I am facing the bar and over his shoulder, I see that Brooks has turned around on his stool, glass of whiskey in his hand and his eyes glued to Jake and me. His stare is cold, unreadable and it takes all my power to not tense as our eyes connect. 

For a moment, a sliver of time as I stood in the hands of another man I felt that tether, the one that allowed me into Brooks's mind and his heart. It grabbed onto me and a part of me wanted to follow it, but I know where that ends and the reason I'm here is to finally let go of it. I move my eyes away and rest my head on Jake's shoulder. I felt a cold shiver fall over my body and as Jake and I continued to move together the next time I was facing the direction of where Brooks sat, there was no one there, only an empty glass sitting on the bar. 

***

I woke up the next morning and tip-toed my way down the steps to the kitchen. I could smell the coffee that was already brewing and I leaned against the counter as I waited for it to finish. I stared out the window looking out at the beautiful magnolia tree I used to climb as a kid, it was bare from the wind but as I closed my eyes the memories of my childhood filtered in. 

A soft smile covered my lips as I saw the dark-haired little girl with scuffed-up knees and dirty hands fill my mind. The little Sydney that I once was, the fearlessness that filled her, it was her I dreamed of being more like every day...I reached around myself and placed my hand over the tattoo I had gotten right after I moved to North Carolina. The small cursive word that gave me the courage to keep going and not look back.

As the coffee pot finished I filled a cup and my thoughts left memory lane and began replaying the events of the night before. All the ways in which I wanted to make Brooks suffer for the shit he said to me started to usher in quickly but then were quickly quieted when I heard a sound come from the bathroom. I peeked my head down the hallway and noticed the light coming from under the door...soft grunts and groans drifted to my ears and as I concentrated on the noise I could tell it was someone getting sick, but who?  Maybe someone had the flu?

 Quinn didn't drink more than one glass of wine last night so I knew it wasn't her and the closer I listened I knew who was on the other side. A nervousness I didn't quite understand fell over me, the way my mom looked yesterday made my thoughts run wild with possibilities. 

I tapped on the door and heard her startle. "One sec," she coughed and I pushed open the door lightly. 

"Mom..." 

"I'll be out in a minute sweetie," her words sounded rushed, afraid. 

I continued slowly into the bathroom and saw her sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, exhaustion washed over her face and redness on her cheeks. I rushed over to her and kneeled. "Mom, what's wrong? Do you have the flu?" I searched her eyes for confirmation but her expression fell. 

"This, this..." she stuttered, "wasn't how I wanted to tell you..." tears shined in her eyes.

 "Mom, what's wrong, just tell me," I begged as my pulse quickened. 

She hesitated for a moment as she held onto my hand, "I'm sick honey, nothing too serious, it's treatable but I...I have cancer." Her hand tensed and her eyes grew more prominent, as she heaved and positioned her head back over the toilet. I reached out and grabbed ahold of her hair and rubbed her back as my heart pounded in my chest. My hands trembled as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl. 

When she pulled herself back to take a breath, I whispered, "When did this happen?" as tears welled in my eyes. 

Her hand reached up and rubbed my cheek, "I'll explain everything, I promise. Just let me finish up here," she smiled softly. 

 Irritation, worry, and anxiousness filled my bones and I sat there next to her trying to gather my thoughts and comfort her at the same time. It wasn't until she finished and I helped her walk to the kitchen that we sat down at the table and she began to explain to me the secret that she had been keeping. 

"I found out about two months ago, I knew you were coming home and I wanted to be able to tell you in person," she said calmly, "it's stage 3 breast cancer but they are convinced that with this type of chemo that we can shrink the mass pretty quickly and then schedule the surgery to have it removed, along with my breast. I've only had two treatments so far. I am usually pretty tired and I get nauseous from time to time but other than that, I feel pretty good." 

I squeezed her hand that I was holding, "Why didn't you tell me, Mom? Why didn't Dad tell me? I would have come home." Guilt settled in my chest. 

"Because I knew how hard it was for you to be here, back in this town, I didn't want you to come out of guilt and worry, I knew you needed to come home for yourself when you were ready." 

The hot tears fell from my eyes, as much as my mom and I had our differences while I was growing up, it was at this moment that I felt how deeply she loved me, all she ever wanted was for me to be happy. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here," I whisper. 

"Oh baby girl don't be sorry, I will be fine, I'm so grateful you are here now," she wiped the tears from my cheeks. 

"I will be, until you are better I'm going to stay," I tell her as I pull her into a hug. 

"Sydney, the last thing I want is for you to turn your life upside down for me." 

"Mom, please," I beg, "let me do this for you, let me be here, I don't want you to go through this alone."

Her arms wrapped tightly around me and my chest filled with fear. I didn't know how I would make it all work but it didn't matter, my mom was what mattered and whatever I needed to do to be here for her was exactly what I was going to do. Once she got better I would go home, back to my life, but I couldn't leave her like this, because even though she said she was fine, I needed to make sure and the only way I could do that was if I was here to see it. 

My lips trembled as she pulled me back and looked into my eyes, "I love you, Mom." 

"I love you more sweet girl," she said softly and I could see the exhaustion lay heavy in her eyes so I helped her to the couch, got her a blanket, and turned on the Hallmark channel. 

I stared at her from across the room as I made my way back to the kitchen for more coffee and I prayed with everything I had for her to be okay. 

AN: My heart breaks for Syd and her mom...

Any thoughts on Jake and Syd? 

Also, Brooks...not scoring big points with anyone these days.