Chapter 1 #2
This nigga watch was diamond out damn near blinding me.
His deep cut waves were literally swimming.
And the way he was dressed screamed, not regular at all.
No lie, he was so fine I was embarrassed standing in front of a man like him looking the way I was looking.
They didn’t even look like they belonged in the hospital.
Luckily, his phone rang and he stepped off walked away to take his call.
The woman stepped closer holding out a ten-dollar bill. And for a second, I just stared at her trying to figure out what made her think I need her ten dollars.
My first instinct was to say no. Pride always seemed to get in the way at the wrong damn times. But then my stomach cramped again, and I thought about how long this night was about to be.
“I’m good,” I lied anyway.
She glanced down at the handful of change in my palm before lifting one perfectly arched brow.
“No, you’re not.”
That almost made me laugh.
I looked at the money in her hand, then back at her face.
“I don’t know you,” I said, not even trying to sound polite.
“And I don’t know you,” she shot back, still holding the ten out.
“But I know what it looks like when somebody’s trying not to fall apart in public,” she added.
At that moment something in my soul shifted. Not enough to trust her though just enough to give in to the offer.
Slowly, I took the money from her hand.
“I’ll pay you back.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I will.”
Her smile deepened like she found my attitude funny.
“Okay.”
I slid the money into the vending machine, grabbed the sandwich a sprite and a bag of chips, then turned back toward her.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
She nodded once, then glanced over toward the hallway I’d come from.
“Your mom?”
I swallowed.
“Yeah”
Her face softened.
“Mine too.”
That made me look at her differently, not as some rich woman in designer clothes caring a designer tote bag. Just another daughter standing in a hospital trying not to break.
“What happened?” I asked before I could stop myself.
She looked down for a second, then back up.
“Not MY mother she already passed away…Me,” she said quietly.
I frowned not understanding.
Before I could aske anything else, the man walked back up.
“Stylez, the doctor said they’ll come get us when they’re ready.”
Stylez?
The name fit her a little too well.
She looked back at him and then at me.
For a second, something unreadable passed across her face….pain, maybe. Or embarrassment. Then she quickly smothered it with a smile.
“I’m Kaizleigh,” she said extending her hand.
I stared at it for a second before taking it.
“Nyrobi.”
She smiled and then walked off behind her man. And just like that, sitting in a hospital waiting room, I met the kind of people who looked like they had never struggled a day in their life.
I barely made it back to my seat before a doctor in navy scrubs stepped into the waiting room, scanning the chair like he was looking for somebody.
“Nyrobi Ellis?”
I was on my feet so fast the sandwich nearly slipped out my hand.
“Yes.”
He gave me a tired smile, one of those professional ones that never really meant anything good or bad.
“Come with me.”
My stomach tightened instantly.
I followed him down the hallway, my slippers scraping against the shiny floor while a hundred different thoughts crashed into me at once. By the time we stepped into a small consultation room, my heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to break out my chest.
The doctor closed the door behind us and motioned for me to sit, but I didn’t.
“What happened? Is she okay?” I asked instead.
He folded his hands in front of him.
“Your mother suffered a serious episode related to congestive heart failure. Her blood pressure dropped dangerously low, and she was having trouble getting enough oxygen.”
I stared at him, trying to keep up with every word.
“We were able to stabilize her, but she’s still not in the clear” he added, and some of the air came back into my lungs.
Not in the clear?
Those four words landed heavier than they should’ve.
“She’s gonna stay a few days so we can monitor her, adjust her medications, and run more test. If she keeps straining her heart, these episodes are only going to get more frequent.”
I looked down at the floor, my jaw was tight and I was trying to keep calm.
This mothafucka’ talking about frequent, as if this shit wasn’t already our normal.
Like I wasn’t already juggling work, bills, prescriptions, doctor appointments, and a woman who swore every hospital discharge was permission to go right back to doing whatever the hell she wanted.
“She been taking her meds,” I muttered , more to myself than him.
“I make sure of it,” I added.
“I’m not saying you haven’t, but with condition like hers, medication alone isn’t enough. Diet matters. Stress matters. Rest matters. Follow-up care matters.”
I almost laughed at that.
Rest, stress management?
Shit, we lived in a one-bedroom apartment where the air worked when it felt like it, the rent climbed every year, and half my mother’s medication costed more than a damn car note. What part of our life looked restful?
“What kind of tests?” I asked, forcing myself to focus.
“We want to check her kidneys, monitor fluid retention, and see if her heart function has worsened since her last visit.”
He paused….
“Do you have any other family we can contact? Anyone who can help you with decisions if needed?”
The question hit harder than it should’ve.
I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head.
“Naw , it’s just me,” I replied not even thinking to bring Nysheca up.
My sister was useless in this situation. And all my momma siblings were out of state living their life not concerned about shit that had to do with her health.
He nodded slowly like he’d expected that answer.
“Well, the nurses will bring you paperwork shortly. Your mother is resting right now, but once she’s settled in her room, you’ll be able to see her.”
“Can I ask you something?” I said before he could stand.
“Of course.”
“How bad is it…really?”
For the first time since he’d started talking, he hesitated and that’s what scared me.
“Heart failure is exactly what it sounds like, Nyrobi. It doesn’t mean her heart is going to stop tonight, but it does mean her heart is weak, and every episode puts more strain on it. We’re doing what we can to manage it, but this isn’t something that gets cured. It gets managed.”
I don’t know what he meant by managed because I was doing everything I could man.
The doctor gave me a few more instructions, then left me alone in the consultation room with a stack of papers and silence so loud it made my ears ring. I finally sat down and just stared at the forms in my lap.
Insurance information, emergency contacts, medication history and consent forms.
Everything in my life had become a form of asking me to prove I could handle things I wasn’t handling at all.
By the time I made it back to the waiting room, my sandwich was cold, my sprite was warm, and my eyes burned from crying so much I didn’t have any tears left. I sat back down and tried to eat anyway.
One bite in, my phone buzzed.
Light bill due tomorrow.
I laughed under my breath because what else was there to do?
My mama was upstairs fighting to keep her heart going and Duke Energy wanted their little $186.42 like life wasn’t already taring my ass up.
I rubbed both hands over my face and stood up before I could lose it in front of all these strangers.
I needed air, or coffee, or a minute to be miserable somewhere without fluorescent lights staring back at me.
The hospital cafeteria was half empty when I got downstairs.
The smell of stale fries and burnt coffee hung in the air, and the vending coolers hummed louder than the handful of people scattered around the tables.
I went straight for the coffee machine, even though I hated coffee.
At this point I just needed something hot in my hand to keep me from feeling so damn helpless.
I was fishing in my purse for some more change when I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Dang you still here too.”
I turned around and it was the girl Kaizleigh again but this time without the polished smile she’d had upstairs.
She looked tired-tired. The kind of tired that makeup couldn’t cover. Her hair was still laid, her clothes still screamed money, but her eyes looked swollen like she’d either been crying or trying real hard not to.
I glanced around for her man, but he wasn’t with her.
“Yep still here…Your husband let you wander off by yourself?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Her lips twitched.
“He’s on a phone call.”
Of course he was.
Men always seemed to find phone calls when emotions got too heavy. And that’s why I didn’t have a man because a nigga was going to have to go through everything I was going through with my mother.
I put my coins into the machine.
“Well, my mama’s stable. For now, anyway.”
Kaizleigh leaned against the counter beside me, crossing her arms.
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. Doctor basically said her heart is weak and I need to prepare myself for more hospital stays ” I pressed the coffee button and watched dark liquid pour into the cup like my life wasn’t already bitter enough.
I said it flat, like it didn’t hurt. Like if I made it sound casual, maybe it wouldn’t feel like I was drowning.
Kaizleigh was quiet for a second.
Then she said, “I know that feeling.”
I looked over at her. Her eyes stayed on the floor.
“I’ve been in this hospital five times in the last year, every time I thought maybe this one would be different” she said softly.
Something in her voice made me pause.
I frowned. “What happened?”
She let out a breath and finally looked at me. “I can get pregnant, I just can’t stay pregnant,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.
Oh.
The word didn’t leave my mouth, but it hit me all the same. Suddenly the tired eyes made sense. The pink blanket in the wheelchair. Her man’s tense face in the waiting room. The sadness that seemed to hang around her like perfume.