Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mindy
I rush to the hospital as fast as I can.
My heart keeps pounding in my chest, and my mind spirals uncontrollably with the devastating news of my mother's deteriorating condition.
As I hurry down the sterile, white corridors, I catch sight of Dr. Walker.
"Miss Williams," he greets me in a gentle, but serious tone. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
"How is she?" I ask, my voice still trembling from the shock. "Can I see her?"
Dr. Walker nods. "Yes, but she's sleeping now. We’ve sedated her to manage the pain. The morphine is keeping her comfortable, but it also means that she may not be fully lucid when she wakes up."
I take a deep breath in an attempt to compose myself. "What happened, doctor?"
He looks at me with a sympathetic expression on his face. "We're not exactly sure, Miss Williams. It’s the unpredictable nature of cancer. Your mother responded well to the latest treatment, but then, something collapsed in her system."
The tears begin to flow freely on my face. "I can still talk to her, right?"
"Of course," Dr. Walker assures me. "She'll be awake soon, and you can have your time with her. But before that, could you come to my office for a moment, Miss Williams? There's something I need to discuss with you."
I hesitate, torn between my need to be by my mother's side and the seriousness in Dr. Walker's tone.
"Sure," I murmur, my voice soft and trembling. "Lead the way."
He leads me down the corridor to his office. I silently follow him, with the weight of what's to come looming above me like a dark raincloud. When we step inside the office, Dr. Walker closes the door behind us and gestures for me to take a seat.
"Miss Williams," he begins, and clears his throat. His voice comes out careful and measured. "As your mother's condition worsens, it's important that we discuss what follows… after she passes."
I feel a chill run down my spine. A sickening sense of dread settles in the pit of my stomach. Is this about money again?
"What do you mean?" I ask.
Dr. Walker leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "It's standard protocol for us to ask every dying patient, or their family, about the possibility of organ donation. In the event of your mother's passing, her healthy organs could potentially save the lives of others who are desperately in need of a transplant."
I stare at him dumbly. Organ donation? The idea of someone cutting into my mother's body and taking pieces of her away to give to strangers... it feels like a violation of everything my mother has ever been.
"I... I don't know," I stammer, my voice shaking. "I can’t think about this right now, sorry."
Dr. Walker nods, his expression understanding. "Of course, Miss Williams. Take the time you need to consider this. But please know that the decision will be made by your mother, if she’s capable. If she chooses to donate her organs, she could be giving the greatest gift of all - the gift of life to someone else."
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. "Thank you, doctor. I... I think I should go," I croak out. "I should be with my mother."
Dr. Walker nods, standing up to open the door for me. "Thank you for considering this, Miss Williams. And please, let me know if there's anything else I can do to support you during this difficult time."
I murmur a thank you and step out into the hallway, feeling like my legs have turned into lead.
I walk down the long, sterile corridor, my footsteps echoing in the silence. The closer I get to my mother's room, the harder it becomes to breathe, to think, to move. The weight of what's to come is pressing down on me, almost crushing me with its load.
When I finally reach her door, I stop. My hand is hovering over the handle.
“ Go in, girl,” I hear Emily's voice. Maybe it's my own.
A sudden sob escapes me . "I caused this, Em. This is all my fault."
"That’s not true, Mindy. You didn’t cause anything. It just happened. You must let this go. You can’t keep beating yourself up."
"I miss you so much, Em."
"I miss you, too, my beautiful sister. But you know I'm still here, right? I'm with you, always and forever. Come on, girl, open that door."
I still hesitate. I don’t know if I can bear the sight of my dying mother. This can't be the last time I see her. Why does it have to end this way? It's too soon, too cruel, too unfair.
I take a shaky breath, wiping away my tears with the back of my hand, and with a final effort, I square my shoulders. With a trembling hand and a heart that feels like it's being ripped from my chest... I turn the handle and step into my mother's hospital room.
The first thing that strikes me is the stillness, an almost unsettling quiet. The only audible noise comes from the machines stationed around her bed, beeping softly as they monitor her vital signs.
My eyes are immediately drawn to her as I enter the room. She lies on the bed in a peaceful slumber, her eyes closed and her face relaxed.
I walk over to her bedside and settle into the chair next to it. For a while, I simply sit there, taking in the image of my mom. Even in her final moments as she fades away, she is still beautiful. I reach out and gently touch her face, causing her to flinch slightly. Soon, I won’t be able to reach out and touch her cheek. Or give her a hug. Tell her I love her. She will only be a memory, locked forever in my heart.
My twin sister is gone.
My father is long gone.
And now…
I still remember when my dad passed away. We were just kids. My mom broke us the news with tears in her eyes, "Daddy’s up in heaven now, girls. From now on, he’ll be watching us from above."
It’s strange, but I didn't feel sadness at the time. In my mind, I could see my dad sitting on a fluffy white cloud, smiling and waving down at us. It was a comforting thought and I would think about it every night before going to bed. Emily and I even drew a picture of Dad jumping from cloud to cloud. Sometimes we would imagine him falling off and grabbing onto the edge, like some kind of superhero. For a short while, this image became so real and vivid in our minds that we would imagine ourselves climbing up to join him on the cloud. We even invited Mom and Alexis to come with us, so that all five of us could be together - those were some of the best moments I had as a child.
Now, it's Mom’s turn to leave this world.
The childhood fantasy of Dad on a cloud fades away, replaced by the harsh reality before me. I squeeze Mom's hand gently, anchoring myself in the present. The steady beeping of the machines brings me back to the sterile hospital room, leaving the warmth of my childhood memories behind.
"I don't want you to go, Mom," I whisper. "But I don't want you to stay, either. Not this way. Seeing you in pain would be worse than anything." Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away. "I love you, Mom. I love you so much." I whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. Nothing else I could say or do comes to mind.
She smiles then, a faint curve of her lips that speaks louder than any word spoken. The way her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, the way her eyelids flutter gently in some dream.
And then, to my surprise, I feel my own eyelids growing heavy as an invisible force pulls my body into a hazy, dreamlike state. I don't try to fight it. I allow myself to sink into the chair and let the soft, even sound of my mother's breathing lull me into a place of calm and stillness.
And then, just as I'm hovering on the edge of sleep, I hear it. A gentle, achingly familiar voice whispering my name.
"Mindy, my sweetheart."
My eyes fly open. My mother is looking at me with a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Mom," I breathe, tears springing to my eyes as I squeeze her hand. "You're awake."
She nods, her gaze never leaving mine. "I heard you come in, my darling girl."
I feel a sob rising in my throat, but I swallow it back, forcing a trembling smile to my lips. Her smile is warm and loving, just like the way her eyes crinkle at the corners.
"Of course, Mom. I'm right here," I assure her, holding her hand in mine. "I'll always be here for you."
She gently squeezes my hand. "I know, my dear."
"How are you feeling, Mom?" I say with a smile.
She beams back at me. "I'm feeling better, my dear." She slowly shifts her weight on the bed so that she can see me better. "Now tell me, how's life been treating you?"
Her question takes me by surprise. I can sense her genuine curiosity and interest. But this sudden change in her... It's like we're back in her cozy living room, having one of our mother-daughter talks. I want to sob, but I swallow it back. A part of me knows that her sudden alertness might be temporary. I push everything to the sideline, determined to savor every precious moment with her.
So, I start filling her in on my life. Careful not to tell her anything that might make her worry in her fragile state, I tell her about my breakup with Maurice and then falling for Maron. But I don’t mention anything about his background in the mafia or the fact that I decided to walk away from him.
Finally, as I rest my hand on my still-flat belly, I spill the news about the tiny being taking shape inside me. It's surreal to my ears. After years of fighting infertility, pregnancy is something I never thought could happen to me. But it did. And now, here I sit by my dying mother’s side, nurturing the life of her grandchild.
As I finish speaking, I notice that Mom has drifted back into a half-sleeping state. It’s probably the morphine. "Mom," I whisper softly, wondering if she can hear me. "Are you still here with me?" She tightens her grip on my hand in response, a silent message of love and understanding. "Thank you, Mom," I whisper, my voice choked with tears. "Thank you for listening."
"Jesus Christ, I hope she didn't hear all that shit."
I freeze at the voice coming from the doorway. Alexis is standing there with arms crossed over her chest and a cold smirk playing on her lips. Her eyes are hard and emotionless, glittering with a cruel satisfaction.
Shit!
Did she hear everything?
I really hope not. I shared a lot more than I’m comfortable with. I told Mom about Maurice, Maron, and about the baby growing inside me. If I know Alexis well, she’d only use it against me. As a journalist for a gossip magazine, she even has the power to do that in the most devastating way possible.
We lock eyes, and I notice a flicker of something in her gaze - maybe pity, maybe disgust, maybe both. Then it's gone, replaced by that icy smirk once more.
"Fucking pathetic," she sneers, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I hope you’re proud of yourself for dumping all your shit on Mom."
I open my mouth to defend myself, but nothing comes out. My nervous system is already at capacity with everything that’s happening. What could I possibly say to her anyway?
With disgust evident on her face, my sister turns away. But before she leaves, she pauses and glances back over her shoulder. "I know your dirty little secrets now, Mindy. I know all about Maurice, Maron, and your precious little pregnancy. I know all of it. Just remember that."
With that, she turns around and storms out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
As Alexis' heavy footsteps fade, I'm left alone with Mom again. I heave a sigh, too exhausted to even think about what this could mean. I just turn back to Mom's sleeping form and I squeeze her hand gently.
"What would you do in my shoes, Mom?" I whisper.
Only the steady beeping of the heart monitor answers me.