Chapter Thirty-Six
Mind y
The next morning, I wake up feeling like death warmed over.
Just like yesterday, my stomach churns, and I barely make it to the bathroom before I'm hunched over the toilet, retching and heaving until there's nothing left to bring up.
Rise and shine, Mindy!
I'm starting to think that Betty is right about the pregnancy but I still can't wrap my head around it.I didn’t want to buy the test yesterday, but she practically forced me to go to the drugstore with her. Later on, she had to go out and I ended up sleeping through the afternoon, leaving the test in my bag. I didn’t even take it.
But today, I can no longer delay the inevitable. I promised Betty to get it done by the time she’s back. But first things first, I’m going to procrastinate a little more by treating myself with breakfast at my local coffee shop.
Eating out is highly unusual for me, especially for breakfast. My usual morning meal is just a sad piece of toast with jam. But today, I feel like I could kill for a delicious plate of eggs with bacon. I quickly wash my face, throw on some clothes, and head down to the small joint nearby.
And as soon as I step inside, the smell of fresh coffee beans hits me and it's like heaven in my nostrils. Which is strange, because yesterday the mere thought of coffee made me want to puke. Now it's like a warm hug.
I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse. So, I order a cappuccino and a hearty breakfast - omelette with bacon, two slices of toast, a side salad - and settle into a booth by the window.
As I dig into my food and savor the flavors, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. For a moment, I almost forget about the test waiting for me at home.
"Can I sit here?" A familiar voice cuts through my reverie, making me look up. My heart skips a beat in my chest. It's Maurice.
To my surprise, Maurice looks better than I've ever seen him. His hair is neatly trimmed and styled, his clothes are clean and pressed. There's a clarity in his eyes that I haven't seen in a long time. If I didn’t know better, I would mistake it for a sense of purpose or determination.
He stands beside my table with a tray of food in his hands and a vibrant smile on his face.
"Maurice," I say with a half grin, my mind still reeling from the surprise. The last time I saw him was at Maron's birthday party, causing a huge scene and being completely drunk. "Sure, take a seat."What is he doing here? And why now, of all times?
"Thanks, Mindy," he says, sliding into the seat across from me. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I just saw you sitting here and... well, I thought I’d come say hi."
I shake my head, gesturing for him to sit down. “No, it's fine. I’m just grabbing a bite before, um…” peeing on a test to see if I'm pregnant from your brother! “…before heading home,” I add.
Maurice nods, digging into his own breakfast with gusto. "Well, I’m glad I bumped into you. Breakfast tastes better with good company."
I nod, giving him a smile. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
We sit in silence as we eat, and I’m starting to feel a little awkward. Sure, it’s nice to see Maurice, especially in such good shape. But at the same time, I’m increasingly anxious about the task that awaits me.
What if it comes back positive?
Cut it out Mindy, you can’t get pregnant!
It's so frustrating when my mind goes off on a tangent like this. Maybe I should have just stayed home and gotten that damn test done. It would all be over by now. It would have come back negative, and my worries would have evaporated. Instead, I’m sitting here with my ex, not sure what to talk about.
As if he can read my thoughts, Maurice places his fork down and meets my eyes. He clears his throat before speaking. "Mindy, I want to apologize."
His sudden confession catches me off guard. "Apologize? For what?"
"For everything that happened between us. The way things ended. I wasn't a good boyfriend."
"Thanks, Maurice, but it’s okay. It's all in the past now."
"I let you down, Mindy,” he continues. “My own issues and insecurities got in the way of our relationship, and I'm truly sorry. You deserve better."
I must admit, I’m taken aback by this. Maurice is not the type to ponder about his actions. Not to mention that he always struggled to take responsibility for his own mistakes.
"I acted like an idiot at Maron's party," he confesses. "I had a bit too much to drink."
"We all have our slip-ups," I reassure him. "No need to beat yourself up."
He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his fidgeting fingers. "Let me break it down for you."
"Why bother? It's fine, really," I reply. I just want to end the conversation, finish my breakfast, and get back home to my test.
"No, it’s not Mindy. There are some things I need to set straight. You see, earlier that day I was at Maron's place. My stepmother has this thing called vascular dementia and... it hit me hard. It's a brutal disease, her brain is literally shrinking."
He’s not wrong. The elderly lady I'd met in Maron's mansion at night was beyond confused. But she’s still a lovely old woman. Too bad her son is a dangerous criminal who tortures people.
Maurice lets out a long sigh. "So, I had a drink to help me cope. And then I found out that Maron was having a party and that everyone was invited except me. That really hurt, so I just kept on drinking." He takes a deep breath. "Until I decided it was a good idea to go to the party, so I did. And when I saw you there on stage,” he pauses. “I just got very jealous and I couldn't hold it in."
"Why are you telling me this now, Maurice?" I ask carefully.
“Because you need to know.” He meets my gaze and leans in closer. "That night, Maron and I had a huge argument. I thought… I thought that you and him are together and it's been eating me up inside ever since."
My heart skips a beat and my palms grow clammy with nerves. This is the last thing I need on my list right now. How could I possibly explain the tangled mess I've found myself in to Maurice of all people? Not that I owe him an explanation.
I gather my courage and decide to lie, hoping he won't see through me. "No," I say unconvincingly, "I was only there to sing. Nothing more."
“Oh...” Maurice's expression visibly changes. I can’t decide if he knows I’m lying to him or not. “That’s… good. It would kill me if you and my brother... you know.”
“Why?” I ask, staring at him in confusion. "You broke up with, Maurice. Not the other way around."
His gaze is heavy with remorse and yearning as he nods. "And I've regretted it every single day, since." He falls silent, then reaches across the table to take my hand in his. "I’ve changed, Mindy. I'm working on myself every day, trying to become a better person. I haven't touched booze since that disastrous party. I attend AA meetings regularly. And I have a stable job now."
"I'm happy to hear that, Maurice. Truly," I tell him, attempting to pull my hand away from his. But it only makes him tighten his grip.
"Do you think we could start again? Give our relationship another chance?"
I'm at a loss for words. Out of all the things I imagined Maurice telling me, this was the last one on my mind. It’s also the last thing I want to be dealing with right now. I glance at my watch from the corner of my eye, thinking about the test waiting for me at home.
"Maurice, I..." I trail off, my mind spinning with conflicting emotions. A part of me remembers the good times we shared, but I know that chapter of my life is over. I could never go back to Maurice after how things ended between us. And especially after what happened between Maron and me. It would be a disaster.
My stomach lurches forward without warning and I find myself thinking about that damn test again. Now I really want to kick myself for coming down here instead of peeing on a stick in my bathroom, waiting to find out if I’ve been knocked up by a dangerous mob boss or not. Even that seems more appealing than sitting in this booth, stuck between a rock and a hard place with my ex. What the hell has my life become? It's like something straight out of a terrible soap opera!
"I'm sorry," I say softly, finally managing to pull my hand from his grasp. "I can't. Too much has changed, Maurice. I've changed too."
He stares at me. "Mindy, please. Don't shut me out. Whatever it is, we can work through it together."
Without a moment's hesitation, I shake my head and start gathering my belongings. "No, Maurice. Thank you for being honest with me, but it’s over." I rise from my seat and push my chair back. Half of my fancy breakfast remains untouched on the plate. "I wish you all the best in finding someone who will appreciate you for who you are, Maurice. But that person won't be me. I’ve moved on." I look into his eyes. "Goodbye, Maurice."
I turn on my heels and exit the cafe, feeling the burn of his gaze on my back.
***
I shut the door behind me and my shoulders finally relax.
Betty has gone somewhere so I'm on my own. I head to the kitchen and make myself some tea. Then, I make another, and another, until my bladder is fit to burst.
It’s time, Mindy.
Time to pee on a stick.
I tear open the test’s packaging, go to the bathroom, and do my business. Once done, I place the kit on the edge of the sink and anxiously wait. I should have done this yesterday. At least Betty would have been here to keep my company. Time seems to stand still, so I start pacing back and forth, my heart hammering against my chest. I continue pacing for what feels like hours, too scared to even glance at the results.
But eventually, I have to face the music. I take a deep breath and muster the courage to look at the stick.
And sure enough, there it is.
My heart feels like it wants to stop and I’m suddenly dizzy. I must look like someone who just saw a ghost. Because two lines, two small blue lines are staring back at me, as if they are trying to mock me with their presence.
I stumble out of the bathroom and collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling as the reality of the situation begins to sink in.
Pregnant.
With Maron's baby. The man I ran away from. The man who terrifies me as much as he turns me on.
Now what?
How is this even possible?
Minutes go by and I'm so lost in my own swirling thoughts that I almost don't hear my phone ringing. It’s when I glance at the screen that my breath hitches: it’s a number from St. Mary's Hospital.
“Hello,” I answer, my heart thundering against my ribcage.
“Miss Williams?" Dr. Walker here.”
“Dr. Walker. Is this about my mother?”
“Yes," he says and clears his throat.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly running dry. Calls like this, out of nowhere, are usually not a good sign. "Is she... okay?"
There's a pause on the other end. "I'm afraid not, Miss Williams. Your mother's condition has deteriorated significantly in the past twenty-four hours."
I feel like I’m being punched in the gut. The air rushes out of my lungs, leaving me breathless. "I see... what does that mean?"
Dr. Walker’s voice is sympathetic. "It means that we've done all we can to treat her cancer, but… I’m afraid she’s no longer responding to the treatment. We've made the decision to move her to comfort care, so we can focus on managing her pain and making her as comfortable as possible. I’m so sorry, Miss Williams."
Tears sting my eyes as I begin to comprehend the reality of his words. A heavy weight settles in my chest, pressing down on me until I find it hard to breathe.
No.
How can this be?
What about those memories we were going to make?
I blink rapidly, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. It's as if the world has tilted off its axis, leaving me grasping for something to hold onto, but there's nothing - just the crushing inevitability of what's to come.
Mom…
My hands tremble, and a deep, aching sorrow wells up inside me, stealing away any semblance of strength I thought I had left. I just stand here, paralyzed by the devastating truth that my mother, my rock, the person I love most, is slipping away from me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
"How... how long does she have left?" I ask, no longer trying to control my tears.
"It's hard to say for sure," Dr. Walker replies gently. "Based on her current condition, we estimate that she has a few days at most."
Oh, dear God…
A sob rises up in my throat, my chest aching with a pain that feels like it will swallow me. "Can I... see her?"
"Of course," Dr. Walker says. "We're administering morphine to help ease her pain, but she's still lucid."
I nod, even though he can't see me. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
I murmur a thank you and end the call, letting the phone fall on the bed from my numb fingers. The weight of losing my mother comes crashing down on me like an avalanche. All while a new life is being created in my belly.
One coming to an end and another one just starting...