"WHAT?" Adam yelled into the phone. "Beth, where is she? Is she okay?"
Beth didn't respond. All Adam could hear was either muttering or stifled crying.
"Beth! You have to tell me where she is!"
The mystery of what Edge was hearing was solved when Beth exploded into an intense fit of laughter.
"Beth, what is so funny? If Mickie is really hurt, then why are you laughing?"
"Because she's not hurt, you moron. You're pathetic. I hope you know that. Why on earth would you believe a word that I say? I hate your guts and you know it. The only reason I'm calling you is because I'm doing a favor for the damn girl. This is a deal with the devil if I've ever heard of one," Beth explained.
"So if you hate me so much, why are you calling me?" Adam asked, genuinely perturbed. If Mickie was sincerely hurt, Adam wouldn't know what he would do.
But he knew what he mentally would have done. He would have blamed himself just like he blamed himself for his mother's death. Because of him, Mickie would have been scared and would have tried to run away from him and would have driven recklessly.
Adam always thought the worst.
"Are you kidding me? Is all that crack going to your brain even more? I just told you that I'm doing your little girlfriend a favor."
"She's not my girlfriend," Adam seethed.
"Yeah, okay. Whatever, Adam. Anyways, Mickie wants you to meet her back at her hotel room. I don't know why, nor do I want to know why. Now leave me alone," Beth ranted before hanging up on Adam.
"Bitch was the one that called me," Adam muttered before getting ready to leave.
He was way more excited than he should have been to see Mickie that night. His hair was frizzy because he did not blow dry it and just let it fly in the wind with the windows down. He drove as fast as he could to the hotel. Why was he so excited to see her? He really didn't know.
Her room was on the second floor. He power walked out of the elevator and down the hall. Gathering his composure, he knocked on the door lightly, trying not to seem nervous or excited. He just wanted to be…Adam.
However, he could not contain his excitement once Mickie James opened the door. He returned the smile she gave him with even more force. It was then that he saw black and red balloons behind her.
"Are you throwing a hotel party? Mickie, I don't want you getting in trouble for trashing a hotel room," Adam said, his grin diminishing.
"I am not throwing a hotel party. What kind of girl do you think I am?" Mickie asked.
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
Mickie studied his face. "No. Actually, I just kind of did this for you."
"Why? I'm not that special," Adam said, hanging his head.
"But you are, Adam, you really are. I felt horrible that Vince's plans for you were ruined, so I wanted to make you feel better," Mickie explained.
"You have no reason to feel horrible about it, Mickie. It's not your fault so you have nothing to worry about. But honestly, I really appreciate this," Adam said as they both sat down on the bed.
Mickie smiled sweetly. "Cake?" she offered, walking to the mini fridge and pulling out a small cake.
"Please," Adam grinned. Oh, how he loved cake.
They ate in silence, just enjoying each other's company. Neither of them wanted to say anything, for neither of them wanted to ruin the serene mood.
However, Adam had to say something. What he wanted to say could potentially ruin the mood, but he didn't care. He knew that Mickie's smile could brighten his heaviest mood.
And what he was about to say was pretty heavy.
"Mickie? Can you do me a favor?" Adam asked, setting his empty plate and fork on the bedside table.
"Sure. What's up?" Mickie asked, taking the last bite of her cake.
"You know how we're going to Canada next week?"
"Yeah, aren't you excited to be going home?"
"Not exactly. There's something that I need to do, but I need help," Adam said. He was trying to avoid the subject, but this was something that a person really couldn't avoid.
"Well…I don't really know how to say this."
"Just try your best, and I'll try my best to understand."
"It's just that…I'm trying to get over the death of my mother," Adam admitted.
"That's not an easy thing to get over."
"It's not that I'm really trying to get over it, per se. I know that I'll never truly get over it. I just know that I need to stop blaming myself for her death. Look, I know you really didn't know her or anything, but do you think you could come to her gravesite with me when we get to Toronto? I need to make peace with her."
Mickie's eyes were glazed with light tears. "Of course I'll go with you."
"Thanks. Look, I really appreciate everything you've done for me tonight. Thank you," Adam said, leaning over and tightly hugging Mickie. "I should be going. We have an early flight out tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you later," Mickie sighed, walking Adam to the door.
One week later
"This is it," Adam sighed, standing at the gates of the cemetery with Mickie at his side. He had his arm around her, holding her close. They were huddled together under a yellow umbrella in the rain.
"Are you ready for this?" Mickie asked, tugging on the sleeve of Adam's black sweatshirt.
"Yeah, I think so. It's over this way," Adam pointed out. They walked in silence together, taking small steps to ensure that they would both stay dry under the umbrella. "Here it is," he said, and they stopped at the correct headstone.
"I'll stay back here," Mickie said. "I don't want to bother you."
"No, it's alright."
"Adam, you need to do this," Mickie said, offering Adam the umbrella.
"No, you stay dry," Adam said, pushing the umbrella back to her. Adam turned around and looked down at his mother's headstone. "Mom, this is Mickie…"