Chapter Forty
Mindy
I trudge back to my mom's room.
My body feels like lead and I just want this day to be over. I brace myself for the sight of her fragile form hooked up to machines, but when I swing open the door, I'm shocked by what I see.
She is sitting up in bed, looking more alive than I've seen her in weeks. Her eyes are shining and her cheeks are red. She almost looks like her old self, the one who could light up a room with her joy and laughter.
"Mom?" I whisper, my voice trembling with disbelief. "What... how...?"
She turns to me, her face splitting into a radiant grin. "Mindy, my darling. Come here, let me have a look at you."
I run to her, tears pouring down my face as I wrap her in a warm hug. My beautiful mother is warm and alive in my arms, full of life. I can even feel the steadiness of her heartbeat against my own.
"I don't get it," I say, pulling back to stare at her with awe. "The doctor said..." My words drift off as I stop myself from saying something that might upset her. I decide to change the subject instead. "Did you hear what I told you earlier, Mom?” I ask, squeezing her hand. “About the baby?"
Her touch on my cheek is warm and comforting. Her eyes glisten with love and pride. "I heard everything you said, honey. Every word, every tear, every secret you shared." She gently strokes my face. "And guess what? I'm going to be a grandmother."
I blink, still in disbelief over her sudden recovery. "Mom, that's amazing! I never thought this could be possible," I exclaim.
She chuckles and winks at me. "Well, anything is possible when you have a daughter as wonderful as you are."
I move in again to embrace her. Tears stream down our faces as we laugh and cry in the grim hospital environment. Nothing else matters in this moment, not even the pain, the fear, or the uncertainty that’s been suffocating me. All I want to feel is my mother's warmth enveloping me, assuring me that she's here to stay.
"I’m so relieved you feel better," I whisper as I wipe away my tears of joy.
"Never felt better, my dear," she booms, but her expression suddenly shifts, and a flicker of sadness crosses her face. "But Alexis... she just disappeared. Do you know where she is?"
Shit.
How do I even begin to explain this to her? Do I tell her that we had a major fight and she stormed off while our mother was lying on her deathbed? Do I tell her that she decided to blackmail me for money so that she can buy herself drugs? Do I tell her that she would sell her own mother’s organs on the black market just to pay her dealer?
My mind frantically scrambles for a convenient lie, but I can’t make anything up. Yet, despite everything she's done to me, my heart still yearns for my sister. Not for present-day Alexis, of course. I miss the old Alexis. The one I grew up with.
I clear my throat. "Let me call her, Mom."
I pull out my phone and dial Alexis' number with shaking fingers. I wait for the phone to ring once, twice, three times… till it eventually goes to voicemail. " Please leave a message after the beep," Alexis' voice says.
I don't leave a message.
I slip the phone back into my purse, deciding it’s probably better this way. The way Alexis is now, she would only taint our mother’s miraculous recovery. But as I sit here, a sudden shift in the air unsettles me - an eerie chill, an odd premonition that something is about to slip away, like sand through an hourglass.
I look up, and a surge of fear grips my heart. My mother has slumped back against the pillows. Her breathing sounds labored, and the light in her eyes has dimmed. Her skin, flushed with color and life just minutes ago, is now pale and has taken on a waxy sheen. It’s as if the vitality has drained from her in just a few seconds.
Mom?" I ask, my voice trembling with panic. "Mom, what's happening? Is something wrong?"
She doesn't respond. Her gaze is distant and unfocused. I immediately reach for the red call button, my fingers fumbling in my haste and desperation. "Help!" I shout, my voice cracking with terror. "Someone, please help!"
In less than ten seconds, a nurse rushes in. Her face is set in a grim mask of professionalism as she observes the scene before her. She quickly checks my mother's vitals, her fingers flying over the machines and monitors with practiced ease. But even though she does everything she needs to, even though she calls for a doctor and begins to administer an emergency treatment, I just know. I know the truth in the marrow of my bones.
This is it.
This is the moment I feared. The moment my mother, my beautiful, loving, generous mother slips away.
The next twenty minutes are a blur. Dr. Walker and another nurse rush in, exchanging hurried words, most of which are medical jargon I don’t understand. They check her pulse, make sure she’s comfortable, administer the correct dose of morphine, and leave. In the end, the only person who stays with me is the first nurse who came in to help.
"I don't understand," I sob, clutching my hands at the side of my mother’s bed. "She was just… she was just talking to me, laughing and smiling. She seemed so full of life. How can… how can this happen so quickly?"
The nurse places her arm on my shoulder. Her eyes are soft with sympathy. "It's called terminal lucidity," she says gently."And you were one of the few lucky ones to witness it."
I shake my head, struggling to process her words. "Terminal lucidity?"
"Yes," she says. "Sometimes, patients brighten up just before… before they go." Her hand rests on my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "It's as if they're given one last burst of energy, one final chance to say goodbye to their loved ones."
I feel my heart shatter into pieces. Why? Why would the universe be so cruel, so twisted, as to give us hope only to snatch it away at the last moment?
"But… how?" I ask, even though I know it’s a pointless question.
The nurse shakes her head. “I wish I had answers for you, Miss Williams. Sometimes, the power of love can work wonders even the best doctors can't explain.” She pauses, then continues, almost as if talking to herself. “The only thing we can do is cherish every moment we have with the ones we love.”
My throat is tight. "Thank you," I manage. "I think I needed that."
“I’ll give you two some time.” She stands and gently pats my shoulder before turning to leave.
The sterile stillness of the room seems to vanish as my focus narrows to my mother’s frail body. My vision blurs from my tears, threatening to spill over as I gently take her hand in mine. Her skin feels like delicate parchment beneath my trembling fingers.
"Mom," I whisper, my voice cracking with the weight of a thousand unspoken goodbyes. "Mom, I'm here."
Her eyelids flutter, fighting against the heavy pull of morphine and fatigue. When they finally open, those familiar hazel eyes - now dulled, but still glimmering with love - find mine. A faint smile tugs at the corners of her lips, transforming her gaunt face into the one I've known and cherished all my life.
"Mindy," she breathes, her voice gossamer-thin. Each syllable seems to cost her dearly. "My sweet girl. I'm so... proud of you."
The dam breaks. Tears cascade down my cheeks as a sob wrenches itself from my chest. My heart feels like it's being torn apart and pieced back together with every precious word.
"I love you so much, Mom," I manage through hitching breaths. "I love you more than I can express... I don't know how I'll survive without you."
Her fingers twitch in mine, a weak squeeze that somehow still radiates with all the strength and love she's always given me.
"You can do it, my darling," she murmurs, conviction shining through the exhaustion in her eyes. "You're strong. Stronger than you know."
She pauses, struggling for breath. Each inhalation is a battle, and I find myself unconsciously matching her rhythm, as if I could breathe for both of us.
"You'll be..." she continues, her words punctuated by shallow gasps, "the best mother. I'll be watching over you. Always."
I lean in close to her, my tears falling onto the starched white pillowcase. The scent of her favorite lavender hand cream still clings to her skin like a bittersweet reminder of better days.
"And you’d be the most incredible grandmother," I whisper, my voice thick with grief. "The baby... my baby... would be so lucky to have you."
A serene smile graces her face, smoothing away the lines of pain. Her eyes open again with a newfound intensity in her gaze.
"Mindy," she whispers, her voice gaining some strength for a brief moment. "I want you to find the man who will appreciate you for who you are. I hope... I hope the father of your baby is the one."
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Suddenly, the absence of Maron strikes me with crushing force. Where is he? Why isn't he here, holding my other hand, supporting me through this unbearable moment? The thought opens up a chasm of loneliness within me, even as I cling to my mother's hand.
Mom's eyes close again, but her words are clear. "I love all my three girls."
Grief clogs my throat, rendering me mute. I can only cry, holding onto her hand like a lifeline.
"Mindy..." Her whisper is barely audible now.
I lean even closer. "Yes, Mom?"
Her breathing becomes more labored, each word sounding like a herculean effort. "Listen... please… don't beat yourself up about Emily... or me..." She pauses, fighting for air. "That accident... has nothing... to do... with me going..." Her eyes flutter open once more, locking onto mine with startling clarity. "And look after Alexis... please. She needs you... more than you know."
I close my eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely. The weight of her words, of all she's leaving behind, settles heavily on my shoulders. "Say hi to Emily for me, Mom," I whisper. "Tell her I miss her every day and every minute. Just like I will miss you."
She doesn't respond verbally, but a beatific smile crosses her face. It’s as if she's already glimpsing something beyond this world. And then, with one final, gentle sigh - like a whisper of wind through autumn leaves - and a last, tender squeeze of my hand... she slips away.
The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor flatlines into a single, unbroken tone. It's a sound that will haunt my dreams for the years to come, marking the moment when the world lost its brightest light, and I lost the guiding star of my life.
She’s gone…
Something inside me shatters, something vital and irreplaceable. My mother, my rock, has slipped away into the great beyond, leaving behind a world that now feels unbearably cold, empty, and meaningless.
And me? I’m lost. Broken. Utterly alone, in a way I never thought possible. The emptiness is overwhelming, all-consuming.
As I look at my mother's peaceful expression through my tears, my heart aches with the desire to escape with her. To flee this cruel world of betrayal and loss. But I know I’m unable to go anywhere just yet. My body is no longer just my own – there is someone else growing inside of me.
I place a hand on my still-flat stomach, emotions swirling within me. This tiny life inside me - part of me, yet distinct - feels like both an anchor and a lifeline. It keeps me tethered to a world I long to escape, while also giving me a reason to keep going.
I'm torn between wanting to run away and the overwhelming love I feel for this baby I haven't even met. How can I feel so much for someone so small, someone I can't even see or hold yet? And how can I be a good mother when I feel so lost and broken myself?
Mom's last words echo in my mind: ‘You'll be the best mother.’ I want to believe her, but right now, it feels like an impossible task. Yet, as I sit here, caught between the mother I've lost and the little soul I’m bringing to life, I feel a flicker of something. It’s not quite hope - not yet. But maybe… purpose. A reason to keep breathing, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
I don’t know how I’ll do it. I don’t even know if I’m strong enough. But for this baby, and for the grandmother they'll never meet - I know I have to try.