Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WYATT
The grocery store was exactly as I expected it would be the day before Thanksgiving. It was as if everyone in Deadwood decided today would be the day to shop. But the Cool Whip was secure in the trunk and so were the buns and the last-minute added cream of mushroom soup.
As much as I hated the grocery store, it was better than where I sat now.
The nondescript building was tucked down some side street in Deadwood.
Christmas lights had been strung on the two large spruce trees that flanked the door.
A silver cross was stuck to the wall with the words “St. Mary’s” under it.
The light snow that had fallen last night was melting, making the air damp and cold. Inside, the tile floors reflected the florescent light, and the powerful smell of cleaner and age hung heavy in the air. A large reception desk and wall of windows separated St. Mary’s from the rest of the world.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist said, shuffling papers.
“Yes.” I stepped forward, still not sure why I was here. “I’m here to see Vail Halliday.”
“Are you family?” The woman still hadn’t looked up.
“Yes. I’m her youngest daughter.” Cheery Christmas music was playing. I could see people through the reinforced glass. Some were milling around. Some scooted along in wheelchairs. I couldn’t picture my mother here. She wasn’t old.
“I’ll need an ID, and you’ll need to fill out this form. Have you traveled internationally?” she asked, pulling out some forms and putting them on a clipboard. A white name tag with a candy cane stuck to it read Crystal Peterson. “Any illness? Cough, fever, vomiting?”
“No.” I handed her my ID and took the clipboard.
“Las Vegas?” Crystal said, looking at the ID. “People actually live there?”
“Yeah, about three million people. Do you have a pen?”
She handed one to me, along with my ID after scanning it. “I’ll see if she can have visitors. You can have a seat over there.”
I sat down and scanned the paper. Questions about where I had been in the past three months. Any illness. My full name, address, and phone numbers. My relationship to the patient. I hadn’t realized it had gotten this bad. I finished the paperwork and handed it back to Crystal.
“Have a seat. Someone will be out to speak to you.” Crystal took the paper off the clipboard.
“Is there a problem? I don’t remember all this last year.” Last year Morgan had been with me.
“Ms. Nguyen will be out to speak to you.” She sat down, and the sound of typing filled the small space.
“Okay.” There were no outdated magazines to read.
The only thing on the wall was a large crucifix.
We hadn’t attended church regularly. My parents had run a bar and last call was at one a.m., and they didn’t get home until two or three depending on how busy it was.
So Sunday mornings were filled with Morgan and me trying to be quiet.
I pulled out my phone, checking emails. Margo had emailed, confirming an hour with Julian at the full price.
I had a message from a real estate company in Silver Creek, California.
They were inquiring about the property I had there.
When I was twenty-five, I thought I would retire to Silver Creek.
But now I had gotten used to the bright lights and chaos of Las Vegas.
“Ms. Halliday?” A woman dressed in a dark blue skirt and jacket came out.
She had a badge clipped to the pocket of her suit coat and sensible shoes.
“I’m Leah Nguyen. I’m your mother’s social worker.
I have met your sister, Morgan, and your father, Ferris.
” She looked through the file she was holding.
“I wasn’t aware she had another daughter. Wyatt Cassidy, is that correct?”
“Yeah. Why does my mother have a social worker?”
“Your sister didn’t tell you?” Leah glanced over at Crystal as if she should’ve explained all of this already.
“Why don’t you tell me.” That was the embarrassing part of my family. It wasn’t only a mountain range that separated us; it was years of family drama and shit Leah wasn’t going to fix.
“I don’t want to get in the middle of your family, so I’ll let you discuss this with your sister.” Leah forced a smile. “When was the last time you saw Vail?”
“She is my mother, so if there is something wrong with her, I’d like to know.
” I ran over the last phone conversation I had with Morgan.
We talked about my flights, when I’d leave, if I’d be staying with them.
I had told her I was okay staying at a hotel, but Morgan thought that would upset Dad.
Then we talked about what we’d have for dinner, and that was it.
She said Mom wasn’t getting better, but I assumed if there was something really wrong, Morgan would have said so.
“Your mother’s condition has worsened. We cannot continue her care here.”
The front door opened, bringing with it cold air and the mailman.
Bill, from what Crystal called him. Their voices seemed amplified in the small space.
They talked about family and pie. Leah was still talking about my mother’s good days and bad days, how she had bitten two people.
All while Bill the mailman and Crystal the cheery receptionist talked about church and potlucks as if it were an everyday occurrence that a woman in her fifties would strip naked in the game room.
Or that the county would have to step in.
“Ms. Halliday,” Leah called.
I tore my eyes from the front desk. “Yes.”
Leah watched Bill and Crystal before turning back to me.
She put her hand on my elbow and directed me to the corner, her back now to Crystal and Bill.
“I didn’t know you were still in the picture.
Your sister made it sound like you were estranged.
For the county to step in, all family members have to be in agreement.
I understand this is all very sudden, but a decision needs to be made soon. ”
“The county? I’m not sure I understand.” How could I make a decision if I didn’t know what decision needed to be made? My head spun with everything that was happening. I felt like the movie I had paused six months ago had skipped to the end.
“Morgan can fill you in.”
“Can I at least see her? Please?”
“Of course, but you should be prepared.” Leah looked at the door. “She’s not doing well today. She’s agitated. The snow set her off.”
“Okay.” My mom had been diagnosed with dementia at forty-seven.
It started out as her not remembering simple things like where she parked the car.
Then one day she walked out the front door and was missing for six hours.
Some tourists found her walking along the road barefoot. She had no idea where or who she was.
“This way.” Leah smiled and turned, scanning her badge.
The other side of the door was a different world.
There was no cheery music, and the smell of the hospital was stronger.
To my right was a bright room with a TV behind plexiglass.
A few residents were slouched in chairs or hunched over puzzles.
I wouldn’t have recognized my mother if the nurse standing next to her hadn’t pointed to me.
“What happened to her?” My mother had always been thin when we were younger. But the woman in the chair was half of my mother. Her hair hung in greasy clumps, and her clothes were a size too big.
“She has an illness, Ms. Halliday. One that will not get better with time. She’s only going to get worse,” Leah said as we walked towards my mother. “Vail, you have a visitor,” Leah said loudly.
“Is she deaf?” I studied my mother.
“No,” Leah said, frowning.
“Vail, do you know who this is?” The young nurse pointed to me.
“Mom, it’s me, Wyatt.” My mother didn’t flinch at the word. She looked at me, her blue eyes empty. Her lips were chapped, her skin almost translucent.
“That’s a dumb fucking name for a girl. Who the fuck gave you that?” My mother’s voice was the same. But the harshness of the words was not. She rarely swore, and if she did, it was not at anyone.
“That’s her new word.” The nurse put her hand on my mother’s thin shoulder. “Vail, remember what we said about saying that word?”
“What? Fuck?” My mother turned to the nurse. “Fuck you. Go fuck yourself if you don’t want to hear it.”
I wanted to laugh, not at her, but at what her younger self would have thought about that word. To remind her how she hated when Dad said that. “Mom, it’s me.”
“Mom? I’m not your fucking mother.” Vail Halliday glared at me. “I wouldn’t give you a fucking name like Wyatt. That’s a man’s name. Are you a man? Don’t tell me you’re one of those weirdos that dresses up like women. I don’t like men that dress up as women.”
“Okay, Vail. That’s enough.” The nurse’s voice was harsher. “This nice lady came to visit, and all you’ve done is cuss at her.”
“Yeah, well, she’s got a dumb fucking name.
Wyatt. What are you, a cowboy? I knew a cowboy once.
He was fucking stupid too.” My mother mumbled something else.
“Where is my fucking lunch? I sent that boy to go get it. Christ. This is the worse fucking hotel I’ve ever been to.
Girl.” Her eyes swept over me with disgust. “Why are you dressed like a hooker?”
“That hasn’t changed.” I looked at Leah, who shifted uncomfortably.
Anytime my sister and I wore anything where our knees or cleavage showed, my mother said we looked like hookers.
And I was dressed like a hooker, but not because of the clothing I wore.
But because I was one. “Is she always like this?” I realized I was frowning at my mother like she shit on my shoe.
“This is mild. She gave the CNA a black eye yesterday.”
“Oh god.” I rubbed my face. My phone pinged with my sister’s text notification.
“You’re fucking telling me.” My mother scoffed. “Where is my lunch? I bet that bitch that lives in my bathroom stole it. I told them.” My mother pointed a finger at me. “You have to be careful, or she’ll give you drugs.”
“No one lives in her bathroom,” Leah said, like I would believe that a drug dealer was living in my mother’s bathroom.
“Vail,” I called, hoping to see some sort of recognition in her eyes.
But they were empty. All the years of my childhood, of skinned knees and missed birthdays, had faded away.
The mother I had spent so many years trying to live up to, by being the perfect pretty girl, was gone.
I wanted to tell her she had been right.
That my beauty had gotten me right where I deserved to be.
I was in the limelight. Men did love me.
But she had lied too. The world hadn’t been kind to me because I was pretty.
It had treated me like a stupid girl dressed like a whore with a dumb name. Because that’s what I was.
“What?” she snapped.
All the words I wanted to say to her died on the tip of my tongue. They wouldn’t change anything because she wouldn’t remember them in five minutes. “Nothing.”
“I really should take her to lunch.” The nurse nodded, patting my mother on her shoulder.
“Right. It was nice seeing you, Vail. Enjoy your lunch.” I, too, had spoken louder and slower.
“Who are you, and why are you looking at me like that?”
“Let’s go, Vail.” The nurse handed my mother a cane.
“Fuck you. I don’t need that.” My mother stood. Her disease hadn’t ravaged her joints yet. She shuffled out of the room, the nurse at her elbow, a trail of profanities bouncing off the walls.
“She’s pleasant,” I said to Leah.
“That’s why we must move her. She needs round-the-clock care and needs to be in a facility that is more secure. Last week staff caught her trying to leave with the UPS driver. She offered him sex for a ride to LA.”
At least I knew I came by it honestly. “And we can’t do that unless the county gets involved.”
"No, we can move her without county intervention, but that costs a lot of money. And those beds are scarce.” Leah clasped her hands. “You should talk to Morgan about this.” She motioned for us to leave.
I followed her out, happy to be on the side of the living. Crystal was humming to some Christmas music and hanging red-and-gold balls on a small tree behind her.
“Ms. Halliday, I understand this is a lot to take in. But please know that your mother needs more care than we can give her here. Your mother’s issues are beyond the training of our staff. The other location will be able to make her comfortable and offer palliative care.”
“Palliative?” I moved away from Leah. “She’s dying?”
“Yes. Ms. Halliday, she is. She won’t eat. She is constantly dealing with bladder and kidney infections, which leads to dehydration. Her quality of life is not good. And it’s worse here.”
“So why hasn’t she been moved yet?”
Leah again clasped her hands. She wasn’t telling me something.
“What are you not telling me?”
“In order for the county to step in, your family has to ignore her needs. They have to go against the doctor’s orders.”
“What?” I hadn’t meant to shout. Crystal looked up at me. “Ignore her needs. What the fuck does that even mean?” Now I sounded like my mother. “Is she suffering?”
“Of course not.” Leah exhaled. “All her needs are being met. It’s complicated.
Please talk to your family. I know this is difficult to understand, but it’s your family’s only option.
This is the facility we are trying to get her into.
Crystal, can you give me the brochure from St. Margaret’s in Rapid? Here.” She held out a brochure.
“And this place has beds.” I took the glossy leaflet that had photos of happy people on it.
“Yes. Talk to your sister. And happy holidays,” Leah forced out before turning to go back through the locked door.
“You too.” I stared at the brochure, wishing I had stayed in Vegas.