Chapter 14 Mother
Rick's heart ached with nostalgia. He missed the simplicity of these days, the easy laughter, the comforting presence of his father, the mischievous antics of his younger brother, who would later become his anchor, caring for their mother after their father's passing. He missed his mother's unwavering support, the quiet strength that had seen him through the darkest times in his future. He spent the entire weekend soaking it all in, imprinting every detail into his memory, knowing that each moment was a stolen treasure.
It was Saturday morning, after waking up and experiencing the past once again, Rick looked at the mirror and decided to do something today. Tomorrow, he would also go back to the past, and it would be Sunday when their family would be having a small get-together, but for now, he needed to do something personal.
The sterile smell of disinfectant hung heavy in the air. Rick Lane, in his mid-50s, sat by his mother's hospital bed. Her face was etched with the lines of age and illness, her once vibrant eyes now clouded, but a faint smile touched her lips as she recognized him.
"Ricky, dear," she whispered, her voice frail. "You came."
"Of course, Mom," Rick said, gently taking her hand. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. How are you feeling today?"
"A little better, I think. The nurses are very kind," she said, her gaze drifting to the IV drip. "It's strange, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming of the old days, of your father and Erk running around the garden."
Rick's heart tightened. The irony was profound. "Those were good days, Mom. Remember how Dad used to tell those terrible jokes at breakfast?"
A soft chuckle escaped her. "Oh, yes! And Erk would always pretend not to laugh, but he couldn't help it. Your father… he was a good man."
Just then, the door opened, and Erk Lane, now a distinguished-looking man of 48 with streaks of grey at his temples, entered, carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers.
"Brother!" Erk said, his voice a comforting rumble. "Rick, good to see you. You've finally got the time." his tone has a tinge of scolding, but Rick did not mind. "How's Mom doing?"
"She's reminiscing about Dad's jokes," Rick replied, a shared smile passing between them.
Erk placed the flowers in a vase on the bedside table. "Oh, those jokes! He tried so hard, bless his heart. Remember that fishing trip, Mom, when he tried to tell the one about the two fishermen and the talking fish, and he kept forgetting the punchline?"
Their mother's smile broadened. "He did! And he got so frustrated, he almost threw his hat in the lake!"
The three of them shared a moment of easy laughter, a warmth permeating the sterile room. The conversation flowed, covering old family stories, the challenges of caring for their mother, and updates on their lives.
"Mark and Sarah are coming soon, Mom," Rick informed her. "And Sarah's almost due, remember? You're going to be a great-grandmother."
"Oh, my little great-grandson," she murmured, a distant look in her eyes. "I hope I get to hold him."
"You will, Mom," Rick said, squeezing her hand again, a silent prayer forming in his mind.
Soon, the room began to fill. Mark, Rick's only son, an architect with a confident bearing, entered with his radiant wife, Sarah, her advanced pregnancy unmistakable.
"Grandma!" Mark greeted, leaning down to kiss his grandmother's cheek. "You're looking much better today."
"Hello, darling," Sarah added, her voice soft. "We brought you some of your favorite fruit."
A little later, Rick's nephew, Derick, a sharp-eyed surgeon in his late twenties, came in.
"Uncle!" Derick said, his voice professional yet warm.
He then turns to her grandmother. "How are we feeling today? Any discomfort?" He checked her charts with a practiced eye.
"Just a bit tired, dear," she replied, clearly proud of her grandson.
Then came Rick's youngest niece, Marie, a stunning young woman who had indeed become a famous dermatologist, and her sister, Teska, who was a high-level executive in Rick's own restaurant chain, sharp and impeccably dressed. Rick's sister-in-law, Erk's wife, a small woman oozing with confidence and intelligence, Mima, arrived shortly after.
The room, though small, felt vibrant with the presence of the extended family. They spoke of Marie's latest charity gala, Teska's success in expanding the company's new branch, Derick's challenging surgeries, and Mark's exciting new architectural projects. Sarah glowed with the anticipation of motherhood.
"It's so wonderful to see everyone here," Rick's mother said, her voice stronger now, tears welling in her eyes. "All my darlings, together."
"We love you, Mom," Erk said, reaching out to gently pat her arm.
Rick watched his family, a sense of profound connection enveloping him. Despite the looming shadow of his mother's illness, this reunion was a warm embrace, a testament to the enduring bonds of family. He found a quiet moment to speak with Erk.
"You've done so much for Mom, Erk," Rick said softly, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I don't know what we'd do without you."
Erk shrugged, a humble smile on his face. "She's our mother, Rick. We do what we have to. Besides," he lowered his voice playfully, "someone has to keep you in line."
Rick chuckled, appreciating the familiar banter. This was the family he loved, the foundation of his life. And he was grateful for every single one of them.
The future faded as Monday morning light filtered through the curtains of Rick's dream-past bedroom. He opened his eyes, the memory of the hospital visit and his family reunion still vivid. He felt refreshed, recharged, and ready for another day in the past. He reaches for his actual smartphone on his bedside table in the future, a tangible link between his two realities, and grips it in his hand while he carefully drips a small portion of blood on its surface. He then closed his eyes, drifting back into the vivid dream.
He was back in his past, dressed and ready. The sun was bright, and the air was crisp. His internal clock, attuned to the past, told him it was just past nine. He had a meeting. A very particular meeting.
He walked briskly towards Mr. Pinter's lottery shop, his eyes scanning the familiar street. The scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery mingled with the faint aroma of ink and paper from the newspaper stand. As he approached, he spotted Leo Cane, the senior whom he just met and is currently in his employment, leaning against the shop's brick wall, looking unusually anxious. Leo was a senior, four years Rick's elder, usually composed and academically focused. Today, however, his brow was furrowed, and he kept glancing nervously at his watch.
"Senior!" Rick called out, a friendly smile on his face. "Morning! You're here early."
Leo straightened up, his eyes lighting up with relief at seeing Rick. "Rick! Good, you're here. I was starting to think you'd forgotten."
"Not a chance," Rick said, joining him. "So, what's on your mind? You look a bit… preoccupied."
Leo hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. The street was relatively quiet for a Monday morning. "Rick, I… I need a favor. A big one."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What kind of favor?"
"It's my sister, Aira," Leo began, his voice laced with genuine worry. "She had a sudden appendicitis attack yesterday. They rushed her to the hospital. She's stable now, thank the heavens, but… the medical bills are piling up. My family is really strapped for cash right now. My parents have almost exhausted their savings, and I was counting on my part-time job to cover my tuition this semester, but… this changes everything." He ran a hand through his hair, looking desperate. "I know this sounds crazy, but… could we… could we try the lottery twice this week? Just on Monday and another day?"
Rick looked at Leo's sincere, almost pleading expression. He saw the raw desperation, the genuine concern for his family. He could tell from the dark circles in his eyes that the guy had not slept properly. It was not a problem for him, or course. He knew the numbers. He could win every day if he wanted to. But he had to be careful. Too many wins, too much attention.
Still, Leo's situation was dire, and Rick was in a position to help, subtly.
"Twice?" Rick repeated, considering. He knew the owner, Mr. Pinter, was a sharp man. "That's… a bit risky, Leo. It could draw attention if we win too often."
"I know, I know!" Leo quickly interjected, his eyes wide. "But just twice! Please, Rick. It would be a lifesaver. I promise, if we win, you can ask anything of me. It's just… a temporary thing to get us through this. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't truly urgent."
Rick studied him for another moment, then slowly nodded. "Alright, Leo. I've been thinking about it too. We will do Monday and Wednesday, from now on. But we need to be smart about it. No flashy celebrations, and we split the winnings, of course."
"Oh, Rick, thank you!" Leo's face broke into a grateful smile, a heavy burden visibly lifting from his shoulders. "Thank you, thank you! You're a true friend. Of course, we'll split it. Whatever you think is fair."
"Okay, then," Rick said, "We will still do the same as usual."
"Deal!" Leo exclaimed, already heading into the lottery shop.
Mr. Pinter, a stout man with shrewd eyes magnified by thick glasses, greeted Leo from behind the counter. "Morning, young man. Feeling lucky today?"
"Always, Mr. Pinter," Leo replied, trying to sound nonchalant. He bought a single 3-digit lottery ticket. He handed it to Rick, who, with his back slightly turned to the counter, quickly and subtly marked the numbers that he knew would win. He then passed it back to Leo.
Leo signed the ticket with a flourish and handed it back to Mr. Pinter. "There we go. Wish me luck!"
Mr. Pinter took the ticket, his gaze briefly lingering on the marked numbers before placing it in the drawer. "Good luck, indeed. Hope you strike it rich."
Rick and Leo exchanged a quick, conspiratorial glance before leaving the shop.