Birth Defect

The accident had been serious, that was all I had been told when I got there. My parents had been in a head on collision with a truck.

When I saw my bandaged mum she looked so chill that when she told me papa was in surgery I didn't believe her for a  while. She kept patting her head as if she expected her inner workings to tumble out of the gauze. Even though she walked a little wobbly and spoke a little slow due to a concussion her eyes looked clear and determined.

I got her a glass of water, but I should've known better. Half way through the glass my Mama was up and at a doctor's heels. No matter how dizzy she got, until she received news about Papa she would not rest.

"We can't say anything at this time."

"We're trying our best."

"We've got our best people on the job, ma'am."

"We hope the surgery works, there's a lot to fix"

"We are out of coffee."

Anyone we spoke to was so helpful and informative.

I was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Mama on the other hand didn't look worried at all.

When she asked me to sit down I yelled at her in frustration. "How can you be so bloody calm? For all we know he's lost a limb or a big patch of his brain!"

"Sweetie," her voice was unperturbed, "Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye."

Her deep quote just made me groan and pace even more.

We got news that the surgery would probably take another six hours. A doctor suggested we go home and get some rest but I refused to be that far from Papa so we ended up going down to the coffee shop next door.

"Well, what do we do now?" My voice was layered in irritation at being so helpless. I wish I could just walk into that OR and heal my Papa myself but of course I hadn't any such powers.

My mother bit into a glazed donut, again, I don't think I can stress this enough, she seemed so unusually calm. "How about I tell you a little story to pass the time?" a cup of steaming green tea in front of her.

"Really, ma? I don't think this is any time for storytelling." I muttered, the coffee had relieved some pressure in my head, gotten rid of the ache but I still felt ridiculously tense.

"Baby, please. Humour me." She looked not a day over thirty five. Her hair was perfectly caramel. Not so brown that it was dull but not so blonde that people would not take her seriously in her job. My Mama worked as a corporate lawyer and people in her firm really respected her.

"Alright, Mama." I nibbled at my donut in concern.

"Okay, you may not know this but I grew up in a big estate, fields and endless fields of wheat and flowers. The place was big and beautiful and owned by my papa. All the greenery made me feel so free."

I hadn't heard this story before. Come to think of it, I knew very little of Mama's childhood. The stories I'd heard were only of my parents once they'd moved to the city. I had no idea my Mama had grown up in the country with grandpapa having an estate to his name.

"I'd spend my mornings out in the fields. Early in the mornings was the time I had. Any other time I would be missed, but early morning used to be the best time."

"The best time for what, Mama?" I sat up straighter, interested.

"To ride. I used to go horse riding every morning. On Zoey - I'd named my horse Zoey - she was this pretty little Palomino Thoroughbred and those are rare."

"What's that?" I frowned.

"A breed of horses that are a nice creamy chestnut colour, with gold manes."

"Oh." I had no idea Mama was so passionate about horses.

"Anyway, the stable boy would be there when I returned, to help me dismount. He'd help me clean my horse and feed her. Now, from what I hear, the boy had a crush on me for about five years."

I chuckled, in the back of my mind I was barely aware of certain muscles relaxing.

"I'd see that boy every morning since I was eleven. We'd greet each other politely and get on with our lives."

"Where is this goin' mama?" I interjected.

"Quiet. Then one day, when I was seventeen, he offered me a flower." Mama's eyes got all dewy and her expression all dreamy like she was reliving the morning. "It was a lovely chrysanthemum - blood orange and yellow. I thanked him. He said it reminded him of the sunsets. Ones you could see over the sharp cliffs as it reflected in the western waters."

"He asked me if I'd like to go to see a sunrise with him once if I couldn't manage a sunset. You wouldn't believe it, when I finally looked up from the flower I saw a whole new person. Gone was the boy of fourteen that my mind had plastered there. I felt like I was opening my eyes to the world for the first time. He suddenly looked smart and so sharp. I couldn't understand but all of a sudden I felt some attraction.

"I didn't understand it. If you'd asked me to describe him the previous day then I'd be at a loss, I'd say I found him nondescript – and I know what you're thinking, no, it wasn't puberty. That morning when I heard him say those words I felt something change. I found I could actually see him. His looks, his voice, I couldn't understand why he'd been so invisible to me all these years.

"His flimsy little features were now strong and sharp, all muscles and stubbled jaw line. Working on the field had done him well. At night I'd dream of his intense eyes, of his strong arms holding me and—"

"Whoa there, mom." I stopped her short.

She blinked at me as if coming out of some trance there. "What? You don't think I could love a stable boy?"

"Sure you can. That doesn't mean I need to know the specifics of you fantasizing about him." I shifted uncomfortably.

"Sweetie, I can feel these things too. Being a mom doesn't make me immune."

"Yeah, clearly. What happened then?" I was too into the story now to continue arguing.

Just as I was taking my last sip of coffee Mama stated simply, "We ran away together."

I choked, hacked and coughed. She shifted closer and started smacking me between the shoulder blades to help me. "Wait." I stopped to clear my throat again. "You ran away with the stable boy?"

"I sure did." She nodded. "I ran away with the stable boy."

"Why'd you run away with the stable boy?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed, my voice high pitched with surprise.

"Because my father was not okay with it." She told me as if it was obvious.

"Why?" I sputtered out.

"Because royalty must marry royalty."

"We're royalty? Since when?"

"You're not royalty, I am. You're the daughter of a stable boy."

I was silent for a moment, dumbfounded. I took a deep breath.

"Ma this is starting to sound very archaic. You're making it sound like it happened centuries ago."

"It did sweetie. The reason I'm telling you this is not because I want you to listen to my love story. My father had a reason he didn't want me to marry out of a specific bloodline. A certain curse condemned children born out of mixed blood."

"Oh, sure, yeah. I am cursed. That explains so much." Sarcasm was all I could attempt right now.

 "It made sure that any child born from a mixed bloodline would turn out to be not exactly normal."

"So I'm abnormal now?" My thoughts were beginning to turn to mush. "Like a birth defect?"

"Not abnormal honey, paranormal."

"You aren't making sense." I spoke softly. "Paranormal means something completely different—" My words felt funny on my tongue, like I didn't believe the rationalization I was attempting.

"You'll see, Liana dear, you'll see very soon. You know in your heart it is true. Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there."

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