Chapter 45 What If She Doesnt Remember?
~Felicity~
The twenty-minute drive to Brigham and Women's felt endless.
Macy sat in the backseat, quiet, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt.
The silence was deafening. She was so nervous getting ready this morning.
I'd helped her pick something out and she changed countless times before we settled on her favorite purple sweater and jeans—the outfit we'd actually started with.
Jessica had bought the outfit for her this past Christmas—well, the sweater and jeans.
The shoes were too small, so we went with a new pair of boots.
Macy's realization that her shoes were too small resulted in a minor meltdown which ended with the both of us on the floor, crying while I rocked her.
"You okay back there, kiddo?" Caden asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
"Yeah," Macy said, but her voice was small. "Just thinking."
I turned around to look at her. "Anything we can help with?"
"I don't know." She pulled her knees up to her chest on the seat and leaned against the door of the car, head resting on the window. I barely heard it, but I was able to catch her asking, "What if she doesn't remember me?"
Fuck. There is no way out of this without all of our hearts breaking—Macy at the loss of her mother, Caden and I in watching Macy's heart break and the utter unfairness of a kid getting such a raw fucking deal.
"Then we'll remind her," I said gently. "And if she can't understand or remember, that won't be your fault. It won't mean she doesn't love you."
"But what if she says mean things? Like she did before?"
Caden pulled into the entrance, turning the car over to the valet. "Then we remember what Dr. Chen told us—that's not your mom talking. That's the tumor."
At the front desk, we asked for directions amidst the loudness of the hospital setting.
Patricia, the concierge, helped us with where to go.
Before heading up though, Caden had placed an order at the Panera in their lobby and picked us up some coffees and waters which were already ready in the to-go area by the time we were heading up.
Jessica had been transferred from the Neuro-oncology department at Mass General Hospital to the Palliative and Hospice care unit at Brigham and Women’s.
She had to remain in hospital while under guard and, due to her circumstances with the charges, she couldn't be transferred to a private facility or for homecare for end-of-life care.
We were told her condition was deteriorating more rapidly than initially expected.
"She has good moments and difficult moments," the Doctor had said. "She asks for Macy and Brad intermittently, but her words get jumbled easily. The tumor is putting pressure on the areas in her brain that impact her speech and memory."
Making our way to the elevators, we followed Patricia's directions and ended up in a small unit area. We knew we were in the right place when we saw the on-duty Police Officer stationed outside the unit entry. After checking our visitor badges, he radioed to someone else, and we were ushered in.
Walking down the hall, we passed another two officers before reaching her room.
Two additional officers were placed outside her room—it felt excessive to be honest. What do they think she's going to do?
Make a run for it? I put my sarcasm away though and opted for silence.
In all fairness, I haven't seen her, so I don't really know what her circumstances look like right now.
Caden bumped elbows with me, checking to make sure I was okay. I was on his right and he was holding Macy's hand on his left.
Arriving at her door, I maneuvered behind Caden and leaned down toward Macy. She was shaking. "We don't have to do this," I whispered. "We can leave right now if you want."
"No," Macy said, squaring her small shoulders. "I need to see her."
Caden approached one of the officers stationed outside her door. "We're here to visit Jessica Jensen. We're on the approved visitor list."
The officer checked his clipboard and nodded. "You can go in. Just knock first."
Caden knocked softly on the door. "Jessica? It's Caden. I have Macy with me."
"Come in," came a voice from inside, but it sounded different than I remembered. Weaker, more uncertain.
We stepped into the room, and noticed Brad was with her, holding her hand.
He looked haggard. You could tell that, no matter what she did, he still loved her.
He stood and approached us, shook Caden's hand, saying, "I'll go grab some coffee and let you guys spend some time with her.
" At this, he touched Macy's shoulder gently and left the room.
Looking back toward Jessica's hospital bed, I had to work to keep my expression neutral.
Jessica was propped up, positioned near the window.
She looked like she'd aged years in just weeks.
Her hair, once perfectly styled, hung limp and unwashed around her face.
Her skin had a grayish pallor, and there were dark circles under her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and pain.
But it was her eyes that were the most shocking. They had a vague, unfocused quality, like she was looking through us rather than at us.
"Macy?" Jessica's face lit up, but there was something off about her facial expression—there was almost a delay, like her emotions weren't keeping up with the moment. "My beautiful... my... you came to see me."
"Hi, Mom," Macy said quietly, not moving from her spot near the door.
"Come here, baby. Come... come..." Jessica gestured vaguely her bed, but her hand trembled and she seemed to forget what she was doing in a moment. I think she even may have forgotten we were even here.
I felt Macy hesitate, so I walked with her to the chair. Caden followed behind like he was on guard or something.
"You look so... so pretty," Jessica said, reaching out to touch Macy's hair. But it seemed like she lost the strength when she reached the cup and, instead of grasping it, she ended up knocking it over on her table. The water flowed over the table and onto the floor.
"Oh, I'm sorry. So sorry. I'm so... stupid fucking stupid..." She looked at me as if noticing me for the first time and just stared. Moments ticked by and she was still just staring.
"Mom?"
Surprised, Jessica looked over at Macy and said, "Macy! You came. Come, come sit with me." Her words were slurring as she rolled over the consonants.
Macy's eyes filled with tears as she watched her mother remember her, realizing she'd forgotten the minutes before when we came in. She reached for my hand, clearly scared.
Jessica's eyes skated to where our hands were clasped and said firmly, "Macy, come here."
I leaned to my side and told Macy, "It's okay, Macy. I'm right here. I'm not leaving your side, okay?" She nodded at my encouragement and shuffled toward Jessica's bed.
"My daughter doesn't need help from some nurse. You can go now." Jessica must not recognize me. To keep from antagonizing her, I stepped a little outside her line of sight and into Macy's instead.
Macy leaned toward her mother, settling her hip a bit on the bed.
Jessica reached for Macy's hair but struggled to get her arm up high enough. Macy grabbed her hand and held onto it rather than watch her keep trying.
"I'm so-so-so-sor-sorry," she said, stuttering out her words. "I…I…I am ha-ha-hav-ing a ha-ha-hard ti-ti-time some-sometimes. It co-comes and goes." Jessica blew out a breath, pausing for a minute, she appeared to be struggling to focus, and after a bit, she continued. "Okay. I think I got it."
"It's okay, Mom. I understand."
Jessica nodded. "I know what I did was wrong." Jessica's voice became urgent, almost panicked. "I just couldn't stop. They said that it was because my brain and my pills. I hate you." She pressed her palms against her temples, frustrated. "No! The words are wrong. They're all wrong."
"Mom, take your time," Macy said gently, and I was struck by how mature she sounded, how she was comforting her mother instead of the other way around.
"I love you," Jessica finally managed. "That's...that's the right words. I love you so much, baby girl."
"I love you too, Mom."
Jessica's eyes suddenly focused on me with startling clarity, and I saw a flash of the woman she become in the last year, before her deterioration—sharp, calculating, angry.
"You," she said, pointing at me with a shaking finger. "You took... you took my..." Her face contorted with frustration as she struggled to find the words. "My family. My life. Everything."
"Jessica," Caden said firmly, stepping forward.
"No, it's okay," I said quietly, holding my hand out to my husband to stop him from proceeding. I looked at Jessica. I no longer saw the the woman who had tormented our family. Instead I saw a sick, dying woman whose body and brain was betraying her. "I know you're scared and confused."
Jessica stared at me for a long moment, then seemed to deflate, the anger draining out of her face as quickly as it had appeared.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't... I can't think straight anymore. It's eating my brain."
Macy said gently, reaching out to take her mother's hand. "But it's not your fault, Mom."
Jessica looked back up at me again and said, "Can you come closer?"
I was hesitant at first, not sure if she would be volatile or not, but given her lack of strength, I wasn't as afraid. So, approaching her bed, I stayed on the other side of Macy—just in case I needed to keep her out of the line of fire.
Jessica leaned toward me and said, "I'm dying."
At this, a sob escaped from Macy. Jessica glanced back to her and squeezed her hand slightly. "It needs to be said."
"Jessica, it's okay. I know."
"No—know don't you." She dropped her head and blew out a breath, grunting at the effort and tapping her forehead with her free hand.
She spoke more slowly. "I mean—no, you don't know. I need you to do something."
"Okay. Tell me what you need." I thought she would say something like, bring me a new water or cover my feet because this room is freaking cold! That is not, however, what she said.
"Macy is yours now. It's what you always wanted—to steal her away. So now you'll have her."
I paused, shocked but realizing that this is part of the paranoia she has been experiencing, I measured my response. "Jessica, I don't want to steal her. She will always be your girl and you will always be her mom."
She shook her head, but I continued, "Jessica.
You will always be her mom. No matter what, and I will remind her of you all the time.
We won't forget you. We will talk about you, and help Macy remember good things about you.
. And one day, she will tell her children about you.
And her children's children. I promise you this. You will not be forgotten or replaced."
We were all crying now. Fuck this was so hard. She nodded her head and laid it back on the pillow.
"Macy…" Her voice was thin and breathy. She turned her head toward her daughter.
Macy's breath caught and she held back another sob. Through her tears and sniffles she said, "I'm here, Mom."
For a moment, Jessica just looked at her, really looked at her, as though taking in every detail. Her expression was soft, and her eyes were heavy.
“I always loved you. You were the best thing I ever had.” She licked her lips, her mouth clearly dry.
Caden approached the bed. At some point he had gotten another cup and straw for her because he had one at the ready. As he stepped closer, he held the straw to her lips and helped her so she could drink.
"I love you too, Mom."
Jessica’s eyes closed, but a faint smile lingered on her lips. In mere seconds, she had slipped into a restless half-sleep. She muttered something, but it was too incoherent for any of us to understand. The moment was gone, but I knew that Macy would keep those words with her forever.
There is no easy solution here. There is no easy way out of this. No one wins in this scenario. I stepped to the side of Macy, placing my hand on her shoulder. Caden had already moved behind her and rested his head on top of hers.
Tears shone in his eyes. He cried for the woman Jessica had been and for the daughter they had together. Macy cried for the loss she was experiencing and the pain she felt in the depths of her soul. I cried for the future that was forever changed and the lives that would never be the same.
And in that moment, as the three of us stood there by Jessica's bedside, I saw tears stream from her eyes. I knew that she cried for the life she didn't get to live and the daughter she wouldn't see become a woman.