{CHAPTER SIXTEEN}

                                      ~~~~~~~~

"Hey, sweetie. May I come in?" Mom inquired softly, her knuckles rapping gently on my door.

"Uhm, just a minute, Mom," I yelled out, rushing to tidy up my room before she entered.

Mom, with her impeccable organization, set a high standard for us to adhere to. While I considered myself fairly uncluttered, I didn't quite match Mom's level of precision in spotting even the slightest untidiness.

I was left gasping for air after hurrying to spruce up my room just to dodge her nagging and inquiries, even though it was already spotless to my standards.

"You may come in!" I said, panting as I swung the door open, my body leaning against it, gesturing for her to enter.

"Hey sweetie, I just wanted to have a chat with you."

Mom's words flowed as she gracefully approached my self-care table, preparing to take a seat on the beautifully designed, fluffy chair. Without hesitation, I gently guided her towards the bed upon noticing my underwear resting on the table.

"Mom, um, I believe the bed would be more comfortable," I muttered, forcing a smile, maneuvering and gliding backward to the table. With a subtle movement, I retrieved my underwear and discreetly tucked it behind the small mirror on the table.

"Whew, that was a close one," I whispered under my breath.

"What was that?" Mom questioned.

"I-I mean, it was nothing, Mom," I stuttered, hastily tucking the strands of hair that were brushing against my ear backward.

"Alright, sweetie," she replied. Patting the bed invitingly, she uttered "Come sit next to me, sweetheart. I have something to share with you."

I was perplexed; Mom truly cared for Phil and me, engaging me in conversations frequently, yet she never ventured into my room, always cognizant of my privacy. I found myself pondering, 'What could be so crucial that Mom felt the need to discuss it in my room?'

I settled on the bed next to her, my face twisted in a puzzled expression.

"Sweetie, I can sense your surprise at my unexpected presence," she expressed, gently cradling my hands in hers.

I nodded in agreement, a mild smile playing on my lips.

She proceeded, "It's about your lover, sweetie—what was his name again...?" She hesitated, finding it difficult to recall his name, then eventually recollected, "Jackson."

"Wait... how did you figure out his name?" I was shocked that Mom knew Jackson's name. Then, in a flash, it hit me, "Lisaaa," I whined.

Mom gave my lap a light pat, "Oh, you silly girl, what's with the whining? If Lisa hadn't spilled the beans, would you have?"

"No, Mom, it's not like that. I just thought it was too sudden to let you know, and besides, we just started..." My words trailed off by Mom's interruption.

"Started what? I'm your mom; you shouldn't keep anything from me."

I just had to apologize because I knew Mom was hurt. "I'm sorry, Mom, it won't happen again," I said, giving her my best puppy-dog eyes. Even though I was old enough to handle my issues, Mom still saw me as her forever eighteen-year-old sweetheart.

She chuckled softly, "It's all good, sweetheart." Her gaze then shifted, taking on a more serious tone. "This your lover, I can sense the depth of your feelings toward him. How did fate bring you together? No offense, darling, just curious," she remarked, raising her hand in a gesture to show she meant no harm in her inquisitiveness.

Catching sight of her gesticulation, I chortled, "Haha, it's all good, Mom. I believe there's no need to keep it from you any longer."

"Um, so it all began when started conversing on the phone. It's kind of a comical story, Mom," I grinned, fiddling with my fingers absentmindedly. "I received this random call one day on my phone, and you know, I never answer unknown numbers, but that day I did. Turns out, he was trying to call someone else but ended up dialing my number by mistake. It was like fate intervened or maybe he just had butterfingers with the person's number he meant to call; lo and behold the very next day, he fumbled with the numbers once more, and guess whose phone rang? Mine again! Anyway, after that mix-up, he kept calling, we chatted on the phone, decided to meet up, and it just clicked between us." As I finished recounting our unconventional beginning, I realized I had been smiling the entire time while sharing the story of our first encounter with Mom.

"Oh, I get it now. I'm genuinely excited for you! But isn't it just a bit odd though? I mean, him misdialing your number and then persistently calling you afterward. It does add a touch of unexpected twist to the whole story, doesn't it?"

"Oh, Mom, I felt the same way initially! Particularly with him coming off as "MYSTERY GUY" at first, it had me feeling weird about him and on edge. But now that we've spent more time together, I must have been overthinking things a bit."

"MYSTERY... what?" Mom's confounded expression revealed her confusion at my statement.

"It's nothing, Mom, just a little inside joke between us." I flashed a grin.

"Alright, sweetie, I trust you can handle it, but remember, caution is key, okay?" she advised. "Oh, my sweet daughter is head over heels! Your cheeks were as red as roses while you were conveying your story," she teased.

"Mom, seriously, cut it out," I said with a playful smile, feeling utterly embarrassed by her teasing.

"My precious daughter has found love. Oh, how I wish your father could be here to witness this moment. He always dreamt of walking you down the aisle on your special day," Mom expressed with a sorrowful gaze, her voice trembling with emotion.

The atmosphere around us quickly transitioned into a somber one, prompting me to interject and attempt to uplift the spirits.

"At least I've got you here, mom... and aisle? Mom, slow down! That's moving too fast, we just kicked off this dating thing," I blurted out, my eyes popping wide open.

"Whatever," she shot me a mischievous glance before rising from the bed. Proceeding forward, she remarked, "I guess it's time to fetch Phil from school, but the nanny's running late today." Halting to take a glance back at me, she added with a hint of stress, "Guess I'll have to step in for her." She then carried on with her purposeful stride.

"Let me handle it. I'll go get him," I suggested, observing the stress in her face. She halted once more, retracing her steps towards me. "No sweetie, you don't have to. Don't stress yourself out. I'll go," she reassured.

"Stress? Momm, why would you say that? Besides, I'm free, so I can go pick him up. It's not like I'll stroll to his school; I've got my car."

"If you say so, sweetie," she replied, giving me a quick hug before glimpsing at her watch. "They'll be closing soon, so you better hurry." As she reached my door, she added, "Take care, sweetie," blowing me a kiss before closing the door.

I stood there, a smile gracing my lips, pondering the blessings of having such a supportive and heroic mother. Despite her nightly tears, which I caught glimpses of as I passed by her room, hearing her mourn and call out for Dad, I understood her pain. I chose not to intrude, allowing her the space to grieve and reminisce about Dad in solitude. She shields her vulnerability around us, so granting her those moments to lament her beloved husband seemed most fitting.

Even amid the tragedy of losing Dad, Mom's enduring love for him remained noticeable. Their in-depth affection for each other was undeniable, proof of the profoundness of their bond.

I inhaled deeply, releasing the weight of my thoughts into the air. "Alright, time to fetch Phil. But first, I gotta stash this away," I whispered, mindful of the underwear concealed behind my mirror.

The drive to Phil's school, though brief, seemed to stretch on endlessly. I opted to play Dad's cherished tune, the one we belted out together that fateful night of the accident. Despite my initial indifference, Dad's infectious love for the song had me hooked, now unable to resist swaying to its rhythm each day.

Just as I immersed myself in the melody, my phone chimed, revealing the caller on my car screen. Lisa calling at this hour hinted at urgency. Hastily lowering the song's volume, I answered her call.

"Hey Lisa, could you make it snappy? I'm behind the wheel," I mentioned, my attention fixed on the road ahead.

"Where are you headed?" she inquired.

"To Phil's school. The nanny was delayed today, so I'm filling in for Mom," I explained.

"Okay.." she replied, seemingly unfazed by my words, before continuing. "Can you believe that jerk didn't even bother to apologize? I've been trying to reach him, but he's ignoring my calls. I bet he's blocked my number," she shared, her voice tinged with frustration.

"Don't tell me you've been flooding him with calls? Didn't we agree to let him go and shift your focus on finding that wealthy guy you talked about?"

"I get it, I get it, but Henry, he was everything to me," her voice strained with emotion over the phone.

"I'm sorry, Lisa, but you've got to move on. His actions spoke volumes; he didn't feel the same way. You need to let go of Henry. I'll swing by your place after dropping off Phil."

"Mmm mmm," she hummed in agreement. "Just keep me posted, alright? I'll be heading to the airport to pick up Mom after work."

"Oh, she's arriving today?" I exclaimed eagerly.

"Yeah, her short holiday with Dad is over. Dad needs to focus on work now, so I'm off to fetch her," she mentioned, followed by a slight cough. "And why are you more excited than me?" she poked fun at.

"Looks like someone's feeling a bit jealous. You spilled the beans about Jackson and me to Mom, so it's only fair I spill yours to your mom..." Just as I was about to finish my statement, I slammed into a speed bump. "Oww, Lisa, can we chat later when we meet? I need to focus."

"Oh, sure," she responded, "don't want my buddy getting into another mishap that'd make you lose your memory again and forget about me," she playfully jested with a chuckle.

"Hahaha, so funny, very funny, Lisa," I said sarcastically before hanging up the call. Lisa was never the serious type. Even in her grief over losing Henry, she managed to inject humor into the situation. I knew that even if I ended up in a coma again, I'd remember her quickly.

And I thought visiting Lisa was the perfect moment to inquire about the young boy I keep recalling in my memory.

Pulling up at Phil's school, I caught sight of him through the front window of my car, standing at the entrance, completely engrossed in whatever he held in his hand, a wide smile lighting up his face. Stepping out of the car, I made a beeline for him. Phil noticed me and dashed towards me, arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture.

"Hanna," he called out as he ran.

He was surprised; I rarely made an appearance at his school. That was typically the nanny's or occasionally mom's responsibility, except for that one frantic incident when we thought he had been kidnapped.

"My adorable little brother," I murmured, bending down to welcome his hug, my voice barely audible as I enveloped him tightly in our embrace.

I gently let go of him, placing my hand on his shoulder to guide him back a bit. "So, tell me. What had you beaming from ear to ear earlier?" I playfully ruffled his hair with my fingers.

"Hanna," he grumbled, straightening his tousled hair as he slipped out of my hold. I clicked my tongue at his antics, "Psst, you little scamp," poking his nose playfully.

Noticing what he clutched in his hand, I inquired, "Was this the reason for that big smile, huh? Let me have a look."

He extended his hand towards me, a smile gracing his face. "An elderly man just gave me this, not too long ago."

"An elderly man?" I inquired, taking the toy from him. It resembled a superhero figurine.

"How thoughtful of him—but you know Phil, Mom, and I have always cautioned you against accepting gifts from strangers."

He let out a small grumble before remarking, "I know, but it's just a toy, and besides, it was an elderly man."

I crouched down to his level, gently cupping his cheeks in my hands. "Toy or not, you shouldn't accept things from strangers," I emphasized. Suddenly, a realization struck me, "An elderly man?" I questioned, puzzled. It seemed odd for an elderly man to choose a toy to give a boy. One would expect snacks or chocolates, but a toy from an elderly man seemed rather amusing.

I examined the toy intently, rotating it to inspect every detail. Without realizing it, my finger pressed a button on the toy's chest, causing a hidden compartment to open. Inside, I found a letter with a message written in capital letters that read, 'HOPE YOU ENJOY IT WHILE IT LAST.'