Authors: Nona j. Moss

Nikki's Heart (8 page)

BOOK: Nikki's Heart

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My whole body was numb as I stood beside Trish. She held my hand through the entire graveside service. I tried to force myself to be as strong as she was. I tried to hold my head high, even as the tears dropped from my cheeks.

When they lowered the casket into the ground, I fainted. I am told that Mark carried me to Mandi’s van.

That was six days ago.

My mother was released from the hospital four days ago. I have not seen her, although I know she has spoken to Mandi a couple of times. I am not ready to see her yet. I am not ready to forgive her.

Mandi tells me my mom is trying. Apparently she learned her lesson about drinking. She is now taking medication to keep her from drinking. Something called Antabuse, which makes you physically sick if you mix it with alcohol.

She wants to see me, but I don’t know why. Doesn’t she know how I feel about her? Maybe someday I will forgive her. Someday this pain will not be so fresh. I know I will have to see her. I hope I will be strong on that day.

I pray God will give me strength. I pray He will help me forgive my mother. Now I even pray she will get the right help and stay sober. And then maybe we can get together, and I can understand all that has happened. I will take the time then to let her know how I feel.

I will do these things for Cody, Trish, and even Mandi. I will do it for my mother. I will do it because I am strong.

Epilogue

It has been three months since Cody died. It has been two days since I finished reading the journal. And it has been only one day since my mother read it.

We are sitting on a blanket in the back yard, sharing a picnic lunch. It is the first picnic my mother and I have ever had. Although things are hard for us, we will make the best of it. We talk about the weather or music, anything that isn’t personal. It is working for us for now. We will have plenty of time for serious stuff later.

Let me tell you how we got here, on the blanket in the back yard. When I finished reading the journal, it was very late. The house was quiet; Mom was in bed. I was going to the kitchen when I heard a noise.

I tiptoed to my mom’s bedroom door. I could hear her in there, and she was crying. For a minute fear grounded me to the floor. Was she sick again? Was she hallucinating? I took a deep breath and forced myself to open the door. I could see her on her bed, her face buried in a pillow.

“Mom?”

She sat up. “Nikki, what’s wrong?”

“I heard you crying. Are you okay?”

She sighed. “Yes, I’m alright. I just get stressed out sometimes, you know?” Yeah, I knew. “Would you like some hot chocolate or something?” she asked, getting off of the bed.

“Sure, Mom, that sounds nice.” She went to the kitchen, and I went to my room and grabbed my journal. We sat and shared small talk for a while. It was kind of nice.

“I’m really trying, Nikki,” she said suddenly.

“I know, Mom.”

“You do?”

I smiled. “Yeah, Mom, I do. I’m trying, too. And I wonder if you could do something to help me?”

“What? I’ll do anything for you.”

I handed her my journal. “Will you read this?”

“You want me to read your diary?” She looked confused, but she took it from me.

“I know it sounds odd. There are a lot of things in there that you should read. You may not like it, but hopefully you will understand me a little better. Maybe you will see why this has all been so hard. For both of us, Mom.”

When I went to bed, it was two o’clock in the morning. My mom was on her bed reading my journal. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was asleep. For the first time in almost a year, I slept.

I woke up to sunlight pouring into my room. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. My mom was sitting on the edge of my bed. She was holding my journal in her lap.

I sat up. “Did you read it?”

She nodded her head and reached out to me. I went into her arms. We didn’t say anything, because we didn’t need to right then. I knew she got what I wanted her to out of my journal. She understood what it was like for me then. All of my feelings had been poured into that journal. I had held nothing back.

As for me, I knew my mom really was trying. The old mom would have flown into a rage after reading that journal. Instead, she saw what she needed to see. She knew what she had become. She knew what I had lost.

I know everything is going to be alright. In time.

About the Author:

Nona j. Moss grew up in Cheyenne Wyoming. She has published two books and some poetry. She lives in Saint Joseph, Missouri with the love of her life and best friend, Travis, and her teenage son, Zayne.

A Message From the Author:

Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I would be honored if you would consider leaving a review for it on

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