Page 41 of The Light Within

Julien’s head flicked to Cinn, clearly waiting for him to make the next move. But now it was Cinn’s turn to freeze. His throat was unbearably tight, so tight he couldn’t breathe.

Battalions of conflicting emotions warred within him.

Shock that they’d actually managed to find her.

The raw ache of abandonment.

Relief that he’d never have to wonderwhat if.

Julien nudged him gently with his elbow. His mum had finished cleaning the floor and stared again like a deer caught in headlights.

One deep breath in. Cinn took a hesitant step forward. “Hi.”

An awkward silence followed, and Cinn had to resist the temptation to close his eyes and wait for the ground to swallow him up.

Julien extended his hand. For a moment his mother stared at it, then grabbed onto it to shake it with vigour, a drowning person offered a life raft.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Julien,” Julien said, ever so calm, ever so casual.

The effect was like a drug, the tension instantly evaporating. The tightness in Cinn’s throat lessened as his mum beamed at Julien.

“Shall we go and replace your coffee?” Julien continued. He nodded to the café across the lobby. “Is it any good here?”

“Yes!” Her eyes drifted back to Cinn. Her voice softened. “Yes. Let’s go there. I’ve got twenty minutes left of my break.” She checked the fob watch attached to her uniform.

Cinn still couldn’t believe it. His mum, anurse. That felt like the most unbelievable thing out of everything.

She led the way to the café, walking slightly too quickly.

“You’re not complaining to the barista if it’s not up to your standards,” he hissed to Julien, to dispel the tension in his gut.

“No promises.”

Julien ushered them to a quiet table in the furthest corner, then insisted he’d get the coffees. Cinn couldn’t help but watch Julien’s back as he left Cinn alone with the stranger opposite him. He wasn’t ready to face her. He needed more time.

“So…” his mother started.

Cinn dug his nails into his palm. “So you’re a nurse now?” he blurted out. It just seemed like such a strange choice for someone who’d spent his childhood treating fevers with crystals.

“Yes.” The proud edge to her voice softened him. “For several years.”

“That’s cool. You have to work Christmas Eve, though. That’s not as cool.”

Stop rambling.

Smiling, his mother replied, “Someone has to. And the other staff have young children.”

“Speaking of Christmas Eve…” Heart pounding, Cinn unzipped his rucksack. They’d spent a good half an hour that morning making them, and now he may as well hand it over.

He held up a crown made of wrapping paper. Green with shiny red foil swirls. Sharp, jagged points, as even as he could make them. Of course, the ones Julien made looked like masterpieces, but his own looked rather professional, if he did say so himself.

“This is for you.”

Her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks, unwiped. It was like she’d been holding back, and now a dam had burst.

Cinn was still holding the hat in mid-air when Julien set the tray down. “Should I…” he started, looking back towards the hospital lobby, but Cinn grabbed his jacket and yanked him down into the seat next to him.

With gentle, reverent hands, his mother took the hat from Cinn. “Thank you. It’s lovely. I can’t believe you still do this.”

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