Chapter 3
Audrey
“Hi, Mom.” I lean down and peck her on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”
With a sigh, she pulls the throw blanket draped over her legs up higher. “Just a little tired. But other than that, I feel great.”
Her color looks good today, which I’m thankful for.
The pain in my heart is just as acute today as it was when she first told me about the cancer.
I couldn’t even believe her, couldn’t comprehend this as our new reality.
In my mind, there was no way this could be happening.
Not to my mom. Not to the one person I had in the world.
The panic and distress that consume me any time I think about not having her in my life wash over me once again.
The night she told me, I angrily pressed her to give me every detail.
Although I might be a cardiothoracic surgeon and not an oncologist, I still needed all the medical information.
It took her a while because she didn’t want me to worry, but eventually, she laid out all the information.
The kind she has is rare, and the treatment options are limited with less than optimistic results.
Except for one.
And while she has insurance through her job as a librarian, it won’t cover the treatment because it’s still too new to the market. But I’ve read and reread the clinical trials, and it’s her best hope at beating this.
I just needed to figure out how to come up with $100,000.
But considering I’m earning a little more than half of that in my last year of residency, have over $350,000 worth of student debt, and still need to cover my living expenses, I had no idea how I’m going to do that.
I tried to get a personal loan, but I couldn’t get approved.
That’s where my plan comes in.
“What’s for dinner?” I ask, trying to fake as much happiness as I can for her sake. My mom hates it when I’m sad, especially when it involves her.
“I didn’t feel up to cooking, so I ordered pizza. I even ordered your favorite.”
“Only my favorite?” I ask with a grin. She hates my choice of pineapple, black olives, mushrooms, and jalapenos.
“Uh, no. Absolutely not. I ordered something that’s actually good for me.”
I laugh as a knock sounds at the door. “I’ll go get it.”
We sit down at her small dining room table and start eating.
We chat about her day at the library and mine at the hospital.
I had to do some post-op rounds this morning, but I had the afternoon free, which is how I ended up in the bushes outside my dad’s house.
I leave that part out as I’m recounting my day.
A genuine smile quirks my lips when Tyler’s handsome face pops into the forefront of my mind once again. I wish I hadn’t snuck out of the coffee shop while he wasn’t looking, but I wasn’t prepared to talk to him. Had no idea what I would say if given the opportunity. So, I left.
But that wasn’t before my crazy idea, which I had when we left my dad’s house, continued to bloom.
I’m loading the dishwasher while my mom watches me. She clears her throat, then says, “I was thinking about something that I wanted to talk to you about.”
Her tone has my throat constricting. I swallow through it before glancing over my shoulder at her with a forced smile. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“There are a few things I want to do before…well, you know. I guess a bucket list of sorts.”
My head spins as I grip the edge of the sink. Fury explodes in my chest, not at her but at this situation. I grit out, “Mom, don’t fucking talk like that.”
Sympathy fills the air around me when she says, “Oh, Audrey, I know this is difficult for you.”
I spin around, my body feeling both too heavy and like I could fly away at any moment. The conflicting feelings leave me reeling. “Difficult is putting it lightly. Why aren’t you angrier about this?”
She shakes her head sadly. “I’ve lived a wonderful life. I’ve achieved everything I ever wanted to. I’ve gone to work at a job I love every single day, and I raised the most amazing daughter. The only thing I’m mad about is that you’re hurting.”
I dab the tears off my cheeks. “I can’t do this tonight. I’m not giving up on getting you that treatment.” Pushing off the counter, I grab my purse and give her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “I will figure something out. I have to go.”
“Audrey, please,” she calls out to me as I head toward the door.
I pivot back to look at her. “Mom, I love you so much. I understand we’re dealing with this very differently.
And I promise I’ll come to terms with this, but right now, I can’t.
” My inhale hurts my heart. “Make your list. Regardless of what happens, you deserve for your dreams to come true, no matter how small. We’ll start marking them off. ”
A single tear slides down her cheek. “I love you, Audrey. More than anything in this world.”
“I love you, too.”
Not being able to take the suffocating emotion any longer, I turn and step into the cool evening air. The contrast with the warmth of the house jolts me back to a closer equilibrium, allowing me to regain control so I don’t lose it.
I have a stalking to plan tonight.
“Hey, Audrey!” Jennifer greets me in a low voice as I walk across the lobby of the library toward the desk. “Did you bring me lunch?”
I hold up the bag in my hand. “I know you’re joking, but I actually did. Hopefully, you haven’t eaten.”
Jennifer’s a fellow librarian who’s worked with my mom since she moved to Nashville a few years ago.
Since we’re about the same age, my mom introduced us, and we’ve become close friends.
It doesn’t hurt that she also loves my mom as much as I do.
As an only child, it’s been comforting to have someone who shares the pain of my mom’s diagnosis.
Makes this feel a lot less lonely than it could’ve been without her.
She clasps a hand to her heart. “Oh my goodness, you’re too good to me.”
With a light laugh, I shrug. “Full disclosure, I was bringing lunch to my mom. But she mentioned you were working today, so I figured I’d bring you some too.”
“Lunch is lunch, even if I was just an add-on,” she replies with a wide grin.
I hand her the bag. “Is my mom helping someone?”
“Nope, she’s back in her office. Go ahead and head on in, but don’t leave without saying bye to me.”
I agree and walk around the desk, heading down the short hallway to the office at the end. As I rap my knuckles gently on the door, my mom looks away from her computer. Her face breaks into a bright smile when she spots me.
“Hi, honey! What a nice surprise! What are you doing here?”
Setting the bag on her desk, I take a seat in the small chair in front of her desk. “I brought you lunch.” I grimace. “As an apology.”
“Audrey, you don’t need to apologize.”
My cheeks puff as I exhale heavily. “Yeah, I do. I don’t like how last night ended.”
Shaking her head, my mom picks up the bag of food and sets it on the side of her desk so she can lean closer.
“We’re in a situation that neither of us ever imagined being in.
I’ll never be mad at you because of any emotion that comes out as we navigate through this.
If the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t be handling it as well as you are. So cut yourself some slack.”
I gnaw on my lip as I contemplate what she said, while not letting my thoughts stray too far into the worst-case scenarios. Knowing that we both need to focus on the positive—that we have each other—and cherish every moment we have, I give her a small smile.
“I hope you like what I picked up for you. I tried that new Thai place that opened down the street.”
“Oh, yes! Jennifer and I have been talking about trying that place one day for lunch.”
I nod. “She told me the other day. So, I figured I would bring it to you both.”
As my mom unpacks her food, she asks, “I’m assuming you don’t have surgery today since you had time to stop by?”
“Yeah, I have a surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’m about to head to the hospital to do a few post-op check-ins, and I have one pre-op appointment.”
Her smile shines, and that makes me happier than I’ve been all morning.
She reaches over the desk and grips my hand, her skin cool against mine. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?”
I roll my eyes, but I secretly love hearing it. Making my mom proud is all I’ve ever wanted. So that when she looks at me, she knows all the sacrifices she made, every difficult time we went through as I grew up, were worth it.
Knowing I can’t give in to sadness right now, or I might not recover, I stand up. “I gotta get going. Let’s do dinner tomorrow night.”
Mom rounds the desk and gives me a big hug. My heart clenches when I notice how skinny she feels. Being shorter and curvier than her, the difference is even more noticeable now that she’s lost weight in the last month.
“Have a great day, honey. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
I walk back into the lobby, blowing out my emotions through pursed lips.
Jennifer’s helping an older lady, so I step over to the display of new releases. Recognizing a few titles I’ve been wanting to read, I pick them up and get in line.
After a few minutes, the lady walks away, and I set my books on the counter along with my library card.
“She looks good today,” she comments as she scans everything.
My sigh sounds brittle. “She’s lost some weight. But her color does look good.”
Jennifer glances down the hall. “How’s the plan coming along?”
When my mom was first diagnosed, I sent a letter telling my dad that I was his daughter and asking him for help. I didn’t put my name, just my number. And he never called. So, when that didn’t work, I decided to go with something that my dad would understand and appreciate—blackmail.
Jennifer knows I’m going to try to convince my dad to give me the money for my mom’s treatment, but she just doesn’t know exactly how I’ve decided to do it.
Weighing how much to tell her right now, I reply, “Uh, I had to pivot. But I still think this is the best option.”
“It’s the least that asshole could do since he never bothered to take care of his daughter.”
The despair I feel about my mom smothers the pain from being abandoned by my father. Helping my mom has to be my sole focus. “Agreed. I’ll update you next time we get together. Maybe you can come over to my apartment and we can have a wine night.”
“Yes, let’s definitely do that. It’s been too long. Are you volunteering this weekend?”
When my schedule allows, I volunteer at a free clinic here in Nashville.
It’s so different from what I do in the operating room, so it’s a nice change.
And I love getting to talk to a variety of different people.
Both my specialty and my work challenge me in ways that continually make me better, but my time at the clinic is always a much-needed reminder of why I became a doctor in the first place.
I retrieve my books and step back. “Yeah, just for a few hours. I’m filling in for someone for part of their shift. I’ll text you soon.” Once we’ve said goodbye, I smile at the person in line behind me and walk outside.
Guilt doesn’t even enter my mind that I lied to my mom. I don’t have surgery tomorrow. I have something much more important.
Project: Get Close to Tyler commences bright and early in the morning.