The Blind Mistress & Her Mates

The Mother I’d Always Wanted

FIVE YEARS LATER…

Time had gone by so quickly for the period Laura had spent with Mrs. Theresa. Unlike her first impression, the old woman had once been married but lost her family, a fact that weighed heavily on her. She considered herself selfish for abandoning them to save herself, realizing too late how little life was worth living alone.

To Laura, the five years they’d spent together made her perceive Mrs. Theresa as the mother she never had. They’d had a stroke of bad and good days with Laura taking up most of the manual labour overtime to ease the burden on the older woman’s back.

They’d shared stories and memories, both good and bad, even those involving Laura’s son, Freddie. It was about two weeks after meeting Theresa that Laura had discovered she’d been pregnant. At the time, she was skeptical about having a baby for a man she considered a stranger, yet, she longed for family. Someone of her flesh and blood. That coupled with the fact that Mrs. Theresa was looking forward to the baby more than Laura.

Five months into the pregnancy, Laura wasn’t allowed to do any work that would ‘stress’ the baby. She’d learned the hard way that carrying the baby was the easy part and pushing the little human out was the hard part. Oh, how she’d almost died during childbirth, how Mrs Theresa had tried to get her into a marriage afterwards, how things had changed after Freddie was born.

The following years after Freddie was the hard part.

Theresa seemed to have aged greatly in such a short period and the light in her eyes had dimmed. It made Laura wonder if there was some hint of jealousy behind Theresa’s intentions. The same woman who was excited about the baby had turned cold right after he’d been born—as though the child had been born a beast. It hurt her.

It was a painful reminder of Gracefeel and the betrayal she’d suffered, although Laura back then was completely different from the bold, confident woman she’d blossomed into. Shortly after regaining her sight, Laura longed to see so many things—especially her reflection. It felt like a dream, how womanly she’d become after losing her sight at the tender age of eleven.

Freddie had become her world. She gave him all the love she could only dream of having and planned for a long, peaceful future with him and the old woman who was still the mother she never had. A few years later, Theresa had become bedridden and visibly malnourished regardless of how much she ate. The woman was dying!

The physicians who visited said there was nothing wrong with Theresa, yet, she was in visible pain. Losing her had become Laura’s second greatest fear.

“Mother!” Freddie scurried up to Laura, who was humming in the kitchen while wiping the dishes clean. He was a little over four years old and had the same blonde-tinted hair as his mother.

“Yes, darling?” She smiled down at her son who was tugging against the hem of her dress. She could only assume he was hungry. “Dinner will soon be—“

“It’s Grandma,” the little boy mumbled, trembling as he looked up at his mother. “She’s not moving.”

Laura felt her body stiffen at those words. She stared at her son as if waiting to see a humorous look on his face, but the boy’s troubled gaze remained unwavering.

She carefully dropped the plate in her hand, leading the way to Mrs. Theresa’s chambers. “Theresa?” She called out, hoping for a reply before reaching the doorframe. They’d dropped the formalities aeons ago. “Theresa!” She called out again.

The older woman groaned in pain, partially opening her weak, lifeless eyes. “Quit making such a ruckus,” she whispered in a pained tone, there was an obvious struggle behind her breathing, “I’m not dead yet.”

Laura rushed towards her, dropping to both knees with a relieved smile. "I’m glad,” her voice cracked, unaware of the teardrops that escaped her eyelids. She hadn’t cried since Freddie’s birth.

“Laura,” the old woman coughed roughly, gripping Laura by the sleeve before meeting her eyes with dull pain pain-stricken ones.

"I'm about to die". She took a second to wince in pain.

“Don’t say that—“

“Listen, child!” She raised her voice a little higher than a whisper, ignoring the headache that came alongside. "I have one last wish,” her grip loosened from Laura’s sleeve. “But call me mother first,” she managed a mischievous smile.

Laura wasn’t sure whether or not to roll her eyes. As loving as Theresa had been, she was fond of making jokes during critical periods, yet, the intensity behind her gaze was proof that it was a serious request.

“Mother?” Laura sighed, deciding to indulge her. There were bad and good days in her health and this wasn’t the first time she’d claimed to have reached the end of her life. It was making it hard to trust the old woman. How could one be such a joker even at death’s door?

“Once I die, they’ll come for you...Ughh". She groaned, struggling against the plaguing headache.

"Who will?".

“Leave this place,” she gripped Laura’s sleeve once more, glancing at the doorway where Freddie stood. There was an even greater pain behind her gaze at the sight of him.

“Please calm down,” she got off her knees to hold down the woman who’d been squirming in bed. She was always mumbling things like this, calling out the name of her dead husband and begging for forgiveness. It took a few minutes to calm the old woman before Laura left to gather leftover firewood outside.

Freddie rushed to his mother’s side. “Is grandma okay?”

Laura nodded, squatting to rub his hair. “She just needs to get some rest, I’m going to gather firewood.” She got up to leave but Freddie held her back, shaking his head. “Oh darling, you can’t come with me. It’s cold.” She managed to slip away. Their fire wasn’t going to last through the night. “I’ll be back soon, okay.”

Freddie was silent, his eyes pleading with his mother not to leave. He was the precious little child she never knew she craved. All of his love was hers, but she worried about how heartbroken he’d be on the day she died seeing how little he cared about making friends with the neighbors. He was mostly always indoors.

“Sit near the fire, but not too close,” Laura directed, grabbing her coat from the rack alongside her mittens. She stepped out into the snow, walking to the side of the small cottage where an axe lay, half buried in snow. As she struggled to pull it out, a masculine voice called out to her.

“Hello, food.”

Her body froze, not daring to look up as the hair up her arms rose. It was a voice she’d heard all too many times in the past, the same voice from her nightmares, the same voice she’d expected to call out to her five years ago when she was falling.

She jerked away, startled by the cloaked man before her. There was a wicked grin across his lips and he dwarfed her with over a foot height difference. How could he have found her? Was she going to lose the small life she’d managed to build up?

Her eyes darted around their surroundings, hoping to escape. Then she looked back at him, his lips were parted, his teeth elongated under the moonlight and his eyes turned a frightening shade of scarlet red.

“Interesting, so you can see me?”

Her eyes widened and her fingers instinctively grasped the handle of the axe, taking a swing at the man. He wasn't human, so there was no reason to go easy on him.

He stopped her swing effortlessly, two fingers pinching the axe till its sharp edge cracked and broke.

She stuttered backwards, her back coming in contact with the wall and he leaned closer to her, looking rather amused. He could tell just how much she’d grown during their time apart, she was bolder than he recalled. But he’d changed as well…

His expression darkened. “Try that again, and I will kill you.”