FicWad

The sterile smell of unscented disinfectant slightly burned my nose as the four of us stepped through the sliding doors of the hospital. It was Saturday, the day Felicia planned to go visit her mother. She was sent to an institution in Northern New Jersey almost eight years prior. This was the first time I'd seen her since I was thirteen.

It'd been a week since I'd seen the woman in the third floor bedroom. Since then, I hadn't seen her. Felicia and I didn't talk about it, only because I never mentioned it. She started to talk more and more about visiting her mother and for once in her life she seemed elated by the subject. I didn't want to bring her mood down or have her worried sleepless about something that wasn't much a threat.

Not telling her about the woman meant never mentioning that Erica saw her as well. I knew that if I told her that Erica saw her, we'd be packed up within a matter of minutes, ready to move again. Even if I tried to convince her that she didn't pose as a threat, I would have to try even harder to convince her that we can't run from it.

Other then that, the kids were enjoying school and work for Felicia and I was normal as usual. We were finally settling to our new home. Daniel's room had been fully decorated with all of his honors, awards, badges and sports trophies. It was painted navy blue, his favorite color, and often smelled of the cologne he wore. Felicia had gone up there before she went to bed. Just to take everything in.

It'd been another week for irregular weather in November. The highest it was getting that day was above sixty degrees but at night the temperature was sure to drop. The winds at night were relentless as well, as if the leaves needed extra help being shaken off of the trees.

Her delicate fingers laced into mine on one side as Erica held my other hand. The fabric in her violet cardigan hadn't been relieved of it's static, so the small threads of the material stood on end. The loose hairs lied smoothly on the back of her long neck. The rest of her hair was pulled up into a high pony tail as her bangs rested heavily on her left eye brow. She was perfect. She'd spent almost an hour-and-a-half on just her hair that morning. Another two hours the night before, just picking out the perfect outfit. She'd even laid the clothes out for the kids and made a few hints for me to wear certain shoes. I watched as she found reflections around the office checking her hair, straightening out her cardigan and readjusting her dress. She sighed.

I could tell that butterflies raced wildly through her stomach. Her hands began to clam and her eyes would dart in different places every now and then. Her nerves were getting the most of her now. She didn't want her to see the weakness that she felt. This prim and proper ​​​​facade was a stone wall, a Trojan horse; anything to keep her from seeing that Felicia was imperfect.

We walked to the reception desk, seeing a nurse in full scrub uniform notice us.

"Welcome to Rochelle Park Hospital. How may I help you today?" She sweetly greeted us with a smile. Her long honey blonde hair was neatly placed behind her shoulders. She wore a small, rectangular badge that displayed her name. Jenni. She had to be in her early thirties.

"We have an appointment with Dr. Reaves to see Dana Vecchio."

"Okay. Are you a relative?" She drew her attention to her computer.

"Yes, she's my mother." Felicia placed her hands on the marble counter, which stood between her and the desk, lightly tapping her fingers.

"Let's see," She grasped the mouse and made a few clicks as her other hand rested carelessly on her chin. "Mrs. Way, I have you down for an appointment at twelve. I'll page Dr. Reaves and tell him you've arrived," She finished. Pushing a button on the phone and started to speak. "Dr. Reaves, your twelve o'clock's here," She remained smiling, nodded twice and hung up. "He should be right out with you guys."

"Thanks a lot!" I said sincerely. I looked down seeing Erica balancing on her tippy-toes and then rocking back on the heels of her feet. She smiled up to me anxiously. Her long eye lashes fluttered as she blinked.

"Daddy, what does Grandma look like?" In her usual hyper mood, she perked.

"Well, it's been a while since I seen her last but if I recall, she looks a lot like Mommy."

"Oh..." She wondered after.

We walked over to the waiting area where the kids had taken seats. Felicia remained standing as she checked her reflection in the window of a supply room door. Smoothing out the edges of her high ponytail and making sure that every strand in her bang didn't stick up. She had mentally ironed her dress over-and-over again. Making sure that every crease was perfectly angled and in the perfect place. I just stood behind her and watched. ​​

"How do I look?" Felicia presented herself in front of me as if she was meeting God for the first time. Her hands posed still at her sides, she was completely symmetrical; from head-to-toe. Somewhat like a brunette Stepford wife​​​​.

"You look, fine," I pulled her into me by her elbows. She slowly pulled away, fixing the sleeves of her cardigan. She began to pull attention to the hair that loosely fell in front of my eyes. Carefully piling strand on top of strand; making strand castles to show her mother how architecturally inclined she was. "What are you doing?" I laugh. Her eyes never blink.

"You had a few loose strands." She declares, not a single blink follows. I swat her hands away.

"Stop, please," Her hands fall into mine as her eyes soften. "Everything is perfect; you look great, I look like I tried today and the kids have never looked better," She collapsed against my chest, her body loosens up and the tension leaves her being. "She'll love you, no matter what. You have nothing to worry about." ​​​​

​​
Stepping into the dimly lit room, she hadn't even noticed our presence. Her hard, worn eyes stared blankly at the small black framed television. She sat in a grey metal chair as her long, coarse hair covered the majority of her face. Her fingers gripped the edges of the arm rest in hopes that no one would whisk her away from her comfort spot in front of her television that she held as a prized possession.

Seeing her like this became reminiscent of the times where I would visit Felicia when we were kids. The only difference was that she didn't have a large bottle of half-downed Rum in her dull hands.

"She's not as medicated as she was last month." Dr. Reaves spoke. He made sure he stayed a safe distance away from her. She sat in that room alone. Though she may not have known it, seeing as she probably never took her eyes off of Richard Carne announcing the next family to play 'The Feud'.

"What happened last month?" Felicia asked curiously as she spoke in a hushed tone.

"She attacked a few residence. Spitting, clawing and kicking at them. She also had a few panic attacks. We didn't hold it against her knowing that most of it was due to the death...." Felicia nodded. I debated with myself on whether I was perplexed or not.

"Has she responded at all since then?" Dr. Reaves thought for a few moments, flipping through the charts on his clipboard. He shook his head.

"Not a word since then." Felicia and I exchanged curious looks.

"Well, I think we have it from here." She shook his hand sincerely and smiled.

"Thanks a lot!" I did the same.

"You're quite welcome. If you guys need anything, I'll be right down the hall. Nurse Rachael will be right outside just in case you need any assistance." With that he shut the door, and strolled back down the hall with clipboard in hand. Assistance? I thought.

Felicia took my hand slowly and lead me to her figure sitting prone in her new favorite chair.

"Ma." She whispered. I made a silent prayer to any higher deity watching at the moment, that she would turn to her and smile. But I guess we were alone in that room, that day. "Ma, it's me, Felicia." The room remained dead quiet, aside from the family getting all of the survey answers wrong on the television.

She placed her hands into hers and rubbed the back of her hand gently with her thumb. In her hopeful eyes, she imagined everything going well. Her mother talking to her again, introducing her to the kids, and maybe even receiving a hug from her. But I couldn't see any of that happening. She just sat there, in front of the television as if she was someone just left her there to rot. In a way, she was rotting. It was as if thirteen years hadn't passed. She was hell-bent off of meds, she was still violent from what the doctor said. I didn't see anything positive coming out of this.

Felicia sighed.

"Please..." Her whisper fell on deaf ears as her voice had been drowned out by the volume of the television. A few moments passed when I saw her hair moving faintly past her face. Slowly she turned her head down to Felicia who was kneeling in front of her. She looked up in shock as a small tear ran down her face. Her small smile began to grow as her mother took a small grasp of her hand. Still, her facial expression had not changed.

She moved her left hand swiftly from under Felicia's hand. Gently bringing it up, she stroked the side of her face.

"Ma.." She choked out as her voice cracked. Finally, a minute smile conveyed itself on her face. I looked up to the white-drop ceiling and thanked that deity.

Felicia looked back at me and I had no choice but to smile. I was elated that this was working out for her. They way she wanted it to happen.

"You remember Gee, right?" She sniffled. "Remember him and Mikey used to live a house away from us. We got hitched, Ma," She showed her the wedding band on her ring finger. After observing it for a few seconds, she turned her head slowly looking up to me and that small smile was gone. Felicia thought this humorous. "You know, she never liked you much." She giggled.

"Thanks babe." Gia, who stood beside me, laughed.

"We have two girls." She motioned her head for the both of them to go over to her. "This is Gia. She's our oldest."

"Hi." She piped up. Her small smile grew just a tiny bit wider.

"And that's Erica, she's the youngest." Erica went over as Dana's eyes followed her every movement. Her eyes grew wide on her when she stood before her. She took her small face in her hands before she could say anything.

"You see..." Her mangled voice chocked out the only two words she uttered in a decade. Felicia's eyes grew wide passing glances at her, then Erica and then me. "You see just like your father..." Erica nodded and smiled.

"Grandma, it was supposed to be a secret." Right then, I didn't have to look at Felicia to know she was glaring at me. I could already feel it. I covered my face with one hand as if that would camouflage me somehow. Gia stood there bewildered as to what was going on. Felicia cleared her throat to speak again.

"I-I actually forgot to mention that I'm expecting." She smiled nervously. Her mother didn't even notice she had said anything. Almost as if she forgot she was still in the room. I could feel the positive energy falter. I saw Felicia's fantasy of reuniting with her mother crumble right at my feet.

"You see her, don't you?" Felicia stood up folding her arms and looking to me.

"She sees who?" It'd been a very long time since I'd seen her that angry. Erica sighed.

"Take the kids down to the cafeteria." Felicia just stood there, as if she didn't know where she was. Dana's mousey brown eyes met mine and fear instantly shot all the way through my body. The fear feeling like it never went away thirteen years ago.

"I won't go until I have answers." Felicia declared.

"You will leave." Dana demanded simply. Like a good shepherd, Felicia grabbed the kids by their hands and quickly walked out of the room. Tearing her eyes up to me as rage smoldered in them. Dana cleared her throat, straightening her posture in the small metal chair.

"Don't worry, she'll forgive you. She forgave me, she'll forgive you." Her eyes went back to the television again.

"H-How'd you know?" She grabbed the remote from the table on the side of the chair and began to nonchalantly flicking through channels. Her demeanor remained calm, flipping to regularly scheduled programming for daytime television. As if everything for the last thirteen years was a circus production. As if she sat there with lifeless eyes tuned to The Price Is Right, just for shits and giggles. Sit there, with her hair mangled and matted, fingernails creepily long as if she was some actor in a haunted attraction. But this was very real for Felicia and I.

"A few nights ago she visited me. I didn't know who she was, and I didn't understand why she was bothering me until she touched me. Then I saw it all. Like it flashed before me." It was so weird to hear her speak like a human being. No grunts or groans, just simple English and at an appropriate volume, might I add. I didn't know whether to be proud or frightened. I took on a little bit of both.

"Did she die in that house?" Dana paused. Running everything that she saw through her mind again.

"She actually doesn't want me to tell you anything. Although, she did warn me about those people who live across the street." We hadn't even told her we'd moved.

"What about them? I mean, they're a little weird but other than that, they're harmless."

"She hadn't told me, just be careful," I nodded. She took her time to observe me from the chair. Her eyes made her way from my shoes to the hair that was sticking up on my head. "You've slimmed down quite a bit, I see." She raised her eyebrows. Felicia really did resemble her.

"Yeah. I guess..." She gave a small laugh to weaken the tension in the room.

"It's not that I don't like you. You're just really easy to insult." She shrugged carelessly.

"I'm glad I could be of help." I shifted my eyes to the black scuffs on the tiles under us.

"Do me a favor." Her withered hands supported her chin steadily as she proposed her favor.

"Sure." She looked down, blinking thoughtfully. Fumbling with her fingers.

"Tell her I'm sorry." The sincerity poured out of her words like sand through fingers.

"Oh, I don't think I shou-"

"I didn't get a chance to apologize to Daniel." Her cold eyes shot up to me.

"I understand, I just think you should tell her yourself. You're her mother." I didn't understand why she didn't want to tell Felicia herself. From the way she looked at me, I was almost sure Felicia wasn't planning on speaking to me for a while.

"Because she'll believe you." She stated flatly.

"But she'll want to hear it from you. She needs to hear it from you." She looked down once more. Her eyes shifted rapidly from one tile on the floor to the other.

"I've done more damage than I thought," Realization set in for her heavier than a ton of bricks in a cotton pillowcase. "She was always so strong, I never thought..." Slowly nodding my head.

"She hurts the same as anyone else. I'll just bring her in." Before she could object, I was already on my way to the door. The door opened to Nurse Rachael who remained standing outside as Dr. Reaves told her.

"Is everything okay? You're not hurt, are you?" Her panic-stricken pale face and white green eyes greeted me.

"No, no. I just came out to get my wife." She sighed in relief.

"Oh, well she's in the waiting room." She pointed me into the direction.

"Thanks." She gave me a quick nod and went back in the room.

"Hey-uh...She--She wants to speak to you." She sat there as Gia and Erica sat on either side of her. Just looking straight ahead. You could feel the strong Ora of anger that was eminently radiating off of her body. She sat a little forward with her hands folded on her knees. She sat there silently, not even caring that I was speaking to her. At least two minutes after I approached her, she stood up and briskly walked past me going into the room.


The drive home was dead silent. Felicia sat in the passenger's side with her lips tight and arms folded across her chest. I'd pass random glances at her, taking my eyes from the road temporarily, she would snap her head away and turn to look out of the window.

We arrived home around three in the afternoon. Going into the house, the kids went on about their business into each others rooms. Felicia solemnly walked her way upstairs. I was going to follow her, but I knew it would have pissed her off even more. Giving her time to cool off sounded like a smart move to make. I sat behind and grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen before probing the angry, pregnant, but rather adorable, bear.

Putting the glass down on the marble slab, I went into the refrigerator. Surveying the contents, I heard the glass slide across the island slowly. Swiftly turning toward it, I saw said glass sit at least a foot across from where it had been originally. Grabbing the glass, I noticed the body that stood comfortably across from me. A small part of me was startled, not exactly use to her nude, mangled look. Looking down to my reflection on the slab, I looked up to her again.

Her hands rested firmly on the marble, turned away from each other on either side of her hips. Her eyes narrowed on my figure.

"Wh-" I noticed that she had my glass again before I could propose the question. "Who are you?" She stared at me as if I was supposed to know. I'd never seen her a day in my life.

"Her soul slides away..." Was all she sang before she hummed an unfamiliar but catchy tune that she didn't have the lyrics to. And then she disappeared again.

"Dammit!" Annoyed by her sudden appearance, vagueness, and disappearing act, I cursed under my breath. "What the hell is that song?" I ran the melody through my head multiple times before I gave up on coming to a conclusion.



Slowly I crept up the stairs to our bedroom. The door had been shut tightly and there was no sign of movements heard from the other side. Twisting the nob slowly, I heard small sniffles. She lie on her side of the bed with her back turned to the window.

"Who is she, Gerard? And If she doesn't want to die, she better be dead already." She growled through her teeth.

"She is dead. But I-I don't know exactly who she is and I've only seen her once." No more "white lies", remember? "Well...twice she was just in the kitchen..." Sitting up, she growled running her fingers through her hair.

"You stood in that living room, looked me straight in the eyes and told me that nothing was in the house!" Defiantly and at a much louder tone than before, she approached me with the rage in her eyes burning crimson.

"I didn't see her until the day after and it wasn't for long. Erica told me she visited her once and that was it. I thought she was gone until I saw her in the kitchen just now." She paced slowly around the the front of the bed. Trying for her eyes not to catch up with mine.

"I can't believe I've put up with your shit," She let out almost as if she was talking to herself. "After two children, and another on the way, and you're still keeping shit from me?" By then, she'd stop crying. She'd moved passed sad right onto the overpass of angry. She was doing at least ninety-per-hour in the rage lane.

"Felicia, I'm so sorry, and I mean it. But even if I told you, you would have panicked and immediately wanted to move again." She paused looking at me, and then looking down at her feet. Contorting her mouth to the left side of her jaw. She looked up at me again. She sighed.

"Even though you're right, I still deserve to know," Doing the unthinkable, she grappled me in a tight hug. I wrapped my arms tightly around her. Thank God for hormonal imbalance and mood swings. "I'm sorry for blowing up on you like that. Today was just so stressful, you know. And automatically being over-emotional doesn't help things much either." Her arms swung to her sides, going over to sit Indian-style on the edge of the bed. Going over to sit next to her, I noticed she'd been deep in thought. With my knees bent over the edge, she lied her upper body over my lap. Slowly, I stroked the loose strands of hair out of her face.

"It's so weird how you and your mother are nothing alike. Not even Danny picked up any traits from her." She shook her head profusely.

"I couldn't live with myself being so mean, so callous. I mean, look at her, she's alone now. It took her eight years for me to ignore her until she spoke again." You could hear the anger in her voice. It was the only grudge she ever held, and it was against her mother, of all people.

"She apologized, didn't she?"

"As if one word could erase five years of abuse. She may have meant it, but it feels like she doesn't regret it." Still deep in thought, she rolled over onto her back.

"Maybe she thinks it somehow made you a stronger person."

"But it's scarred me more than anything," Her gaze was displaced onto the ceiling. I thought crossed my mind while we were on the subject. Something that I never inquired about because I didn't know where, or what it would lead to. But my 'no time like the present' subconscious, wouldn't kick.

"What happened to your Dad?" I imagined it coming out differently. My mouth seemed to tarnish the polished words in my head. I had no idea where the conversation would go from there. She hadn't dared look me in the eye, as her gaze was still fixed to the slowly whirling ceiling fan. ​​​​

​​​"He wasn't much of a father actually, wasn't much of a man either. He never hit us, or did anything remotely damaging. He just wasn't the type to call 'dad'. He would always refer to me as his 'kid' and not his daughter and I never understood why. I mean, I looked just like him," Snapping her eyes to mine, she folded her arms over her chest. "He'd always push me away emotionally and he never really gave a shit if I could feel it or not. He did the same to my mother and it made me so confused." Something in the recesses of my brain was pulling the pieces together to her sometime-y calculating personality. Why she hid behind perfect up-doos, tailored maiden dresses and perfectly fitting cardigans, was finally coming full-circle.

"Wasn't she emotionally Stonewalled as well?"

"No, no," She waved her hand. "This was before that. She was nice then. She was mild mannered then. He wasn't my father, or my dad, he was just some guy who lived in our house who I coincidentally resembled. It was the day he left that I started to understand why he was so emotionally detached." Turning her eyes back to the ceiling's ivory paint. "He had his best clothes on, and he had been so pleasant to me that day. You would have sworn it was my birthday, but it wasn't. The whole day he dedicated to me, he even took off work to take me to the mall. Spent all his money on me and we laughed the whole way home in his car."

She smiled going back to that very day. In her eyes, I saw the happiness that she felt being in that car. Being with him on a day that he set aside just for her.

"It was a few minutes before I went to bed, and we were sitting on the couch watching TV when he turned to me and with no words, he pulled me on his lap. And we just looked at each other for a good minute or two," For the first time since we knew each other, I saw her unravel. It was sad and tear-provoking. It was beautiful and brilliant, all at the same time. I was so mesmerized by her emotional release, so enthralled by her pain. I wanted to comfort her, of course, but I wanted to hear the rest of her story. "Then he shot me this sorrowful look out of nowhere. In my head, I was constantly reminding myself of everything he didn't do, and all the things he never said. But behind that, I knew there was something more than that. Something he was hiding from me, and chose that very moment to show me." Her eyes tried to pry themselves away from emotion, but failed. A tear glistened on her cheekbone.
"I hugged him because I didn't know what else to do. I just remember that he wasn't in his pajamas and usually by that time he was completely comfortable on the couch in front of the television."

She played with the ring held tightly on her ring finger. A stray tear fell from her eye carelessly. It lingered down the side of her face. She ignored it.

"He pulled me away and said he really didn't want to leave me with her, but he couldn't stay. And I still didn't understand. But I wanted to, so badly," Another tear made it's way but she wiped it away before it got too far. "I remember him coming into my room thinking I had already fallen asleep. He cried hysterically for a few minutes and all I could think of was how selfish he'd been leaving us. ​​The last thing he left me with was a kiss on the cheek and told me he loved me. And then I heard his piece-of-shit engine start up and he pulled off." Her eyes locked with mine again as she swallowed hard and her voice began to crack.

"So that was it; he just left?"

"Two weeks later, the cops had came by to the house on a Wednesday. They told my mom that he broke into his mother's old home and was found hanging by the rafters of the attic ceiling. Right at that moment, when she didn't think I could hear them speaking in the next room, I realized why he hadn't called me his daughter or even acknowledge me as a child; he didn't want to get attached because he knew what she was going to become and he felt he had no choice but to leave me there." Figuratively, almost literally floored by everything she'd told me, I didn't know how to react or reply. She wasn't completely committed to crying as I thought she would be. Softly, she ran the back of her ageless hand up my cheek. I saw something that I hadn't seen in her eyes in such a long time--hope.

"I guess fate has a weird way of proving itself. Did you still feel that he'd been selfish?"​​​​

"The fact that he abandoned us isn't what makes me cringe; in order for him to escape her, he needed to take his own life." I was still stunned that she had been telling me this now. She never, and I mean never, mentioned her biological father. I began to think she never knew him, that she just knew of his fatality.

"What was his name?"

"His first name was Nick but his middle name was Felicio. Ironically it means fortunate. The even funnier side of the irony is that I was named after him." She sat up with a rich laugh and walked off.​​