20. Lily
20
Lily
The next couple of days seemed to run into each other. On Sunday afternoon, when I knew things at the hospital were not going to be resolved anytime soon, I gave Jasmine a call and told her I wouldn’t be at the bakery the next morning and why. I also told her I was thinking about just closing up for a few days.
Of course, Jasmine wouldn’t hear of it.
“I can run this place for you, Lily. You don’t need to worry about a thing, girl.”
I trust Jasmine with my life. And there have been occasions where she has had to be in charge of the bakery before. She has the keys and knows how to do everything I can do, apart from some of the baking. But before now, she’s only ever had to cover me for a day. I don’t know how long my mom’s hospital stay is going to take, and I don’t want to take advantage.
“It’s a big ask, Jasmine,” I replied. “There’s so much to do, and besides, I don’t know how long I’m going to be away.”
“All right, well, how about a compromise? I’ll come into work and sell whatever comes in on the orders. If people want fresh bread, they’ll have to go elsewhere.”
“I still feel like I’m asking a lot,” I said worriedly.
“Will you chill, honey? I’ll be fine. Besides, I can get the kids to come in and help me after school.”
I hesitated for several minutes before agreeing to it. Even then, I added a caveat. “Fine, but only on the condition that if it all gets to be too much, you’ll just call me and let me know.”
“Sure. I’ll do that,” Jasmine said, with a tone that told me I wasn’t likely to hear from her anytime soon.
I laughed then because I knew she was going to handle it. “Thank you,” I said.
“Sweetheart, you are welcome. Now, you just concentrate on helping your momma get better. She needs you right now.”
“All right. I’ll speak to you soon.”
Ellie has made up her spare room so I can stay with her, and with the bakery dealt with, I’ve been able to do just as Jasmine instructs and concentrate more on Mom.
The three of us decided we would take shifts so there would be no time when Mom was left alone. I mean, it’s not like she’ll know who any of us are if she wakes up, but it makes us feel better, knowing one of us will be there. When she does wake, she’ll still be confused. I know she doesn’t remember us, but I think she’ll know the difference between a hospital room and the place she calls home.
Her room at the nursing home is cozy, and she’s surrounded by familiar things; trinkets, ornaments, pictures of us—not that those photos help at all, but they’re there all the same.
At night, there’s just one of us so the other two can sleep, but during the day, we’ve arranged to take turns sitting in twos. For the most part, all three of us have been there. We don’t get to see each other often, and thus, we’ve taken the opportunity to spend time with each other and catch up.
Orson and I are now officially dating, which is weird because everyone else thinks we’re married. It’s funny for us sometimes when my sisters say things to us like we’re a couple. We’ve nearly been caught a few times, though, like when Martha asked if we’d thought about kids. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Orson’s face look so pale.
He’s driven the whole way to the hospital to visit a few times. He never comes empty-handed. There’s either takeout or flowers or snacks, all of which my sisters think is adorable.
I can’t disagree. I know he’s super busy, so for him to take the time out and be here only reinforces the type of person I’m beginning to realize he is. The truth is, we don’t really know each other yet. Sure, we’ve spent a couple of months together, but we’ve not been together-together.
I’ve been busy running my business, as I always am, and he’s been running in circles seeing to his like he always is. Some days, we’re like ships passing in the night, and we hardly see each other at all. There have been times when my business is his business, like attending the council meetings and discussing the plans for the town. But still, it’s not like dating, right?
There’s so much I don’t know about him, but now, I’m looking forward to doing just that. Getting to know the guy I had a crush on for four years in high school. Which was pretty embarrassing to disclose, I can tell you. He was surprised, though, which I thought was rather sweet. It was like he couldn’t believe anyone would look twice at him. I don’t know why. Well, I do. The kids were just awful.
After a barrage of tests, the doctors come to the conclusion that Mom’s seizure was the result of her advanced dementia after all, and so, on Wednesday, they bring her out of her comatose state.
When Mom finally comes around, we’re all here. Even Orson. I’ll be honest; I really want to introduce him, but I know it will just be too confusing for her. She just doesn’t remember us.
“Where am I? This isn’t my room. What am I doing here?” Mom’s panicking, but Ellie is by her side to soothe her.
“It’s okay, Mom. You’re in the hospital, but you’re okay.”
Mom looks at Ellie like she’s from another planet. “I’m not your mother,” she retorts.
Martha and I have both told Ellie that she has to stop calling her Mom, but our baby sister just can’t help herself.
“No. Of course not,” Ellie says, a sadness in her tone.
“Who are you?” Mom demands.
“I’m one of the nurses,” Ellie says.
Orson moves closer to me and leans in to whisper in my ear. “She doesn’t have any idea who any of you are?” he asks, looking more than perturbed.
I shake my head. “She hasn’t for a long time.”
He looks down at me sadly. “That has to be tough.”
“It was at the beginning,” I say, keeping my voice low, while Ellie continues to talk to Mom. “But we’ve all come to terms with it. Well, most of the time. Times like this, it affects us a little more—Ellie the worst. She’s the baby and was the closest to Mom.”
Mom starts to get a bit distressed, and the doctor steps in and gives her a sedative. A few seconds later, she’s sleeping again. No longer in a coma, but not with us, either.
“It has to be hard for you, too,” Orson murmurs under his breath.
“Yes.” I nod. “I suppose it is.”
The following day, the doctor is ready to discharge Mom. The carers from her nursing home arrive, and after a brief greeting to us, they ready Mom and take her away. I’d love to throw my arms around her neck and kiss her goodbye, but it would completely freak her out. It’s better for everyone this way, even if it does break our hearts.
I can, however, throw my arms around my sisters’ necks, and I do so, giving and getting huge hugs. Ellie, as usual, is emotional.
“You do this every time,” Martha laughs. “We only live fifty miles apart.”
But I sense it’s not just the goodbye that has affected her.
“It’s Mom, right?” I say.
She nods, sniffing and wiping her nose with a hankie. “Sometimes, I just miss her so much.”
“I know, darling,” I say, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “I do, too.”
I’d be lying if I said I’m not feeling a little emotional, too. Mom raised us, loved us, advised us, wiped our tears, and comforted us. Your mom is your mom, right? She’s this constant in your life who carried you for more or less nine months and then cared for you when you couldn’t care for yourself.
For most people, their physical connection to their mother is a big deal. Something that usually only breaks in death. But this disease gives you cause to grieve while your parent is still living. When we lost Dad, I grieved deeply. Honestly, I think this is worse.
On the drive back to Willow Creek, I realize how much the situation has really affected me when I find myself crying at my memories of me and Mom. She was always so much fun, and though I inherited my wit and sense of humor from Dad, Mom always showed us a positive outlook on life and the things it throws at us.
By the time I get back to the apartment, I’m exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. I would say I’m looking forward to seeing Orson, but the truth is, I think I need some time alone. I haven’t had that for nearly a week.
As it happens, Orson isn’t home, which is a relief. I can relax for a little while. Throwing my bag on the bed, I turn on the shower, undress, and climb into it, sighing with pleasure as the beads of water hit my skin.
After far too long under the thundering hot water, I finally dry off, wrap a towel around my hair, and throw on a robe. Then I head for the kitchen. There’s always wine in the fridge, and I plan to pour myself a large glass.
I’ve dropped down onto the sofa and am just sinking into the plush cushions when I hear a ping. And then another. And then another. It’s not my phone; it’s Orson’s home laptop. This is the notification sound for an email. It drives me nuts sometimes, but I’ve learned to live with it. Just not today.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
Pushing myself back up off the sofa, I pad around the corner into the nook he’s commandeered as his study. The desk is immaculate, as always. Everything perfectly straight and in its place. He must have been working before he left because his laptop is still open, but then, he’s always working. I’m about to slam the noisy thing shut when a subject line catches my eye.
Thanks for last night.
I can’t help myself. The email is from someone named Charlie Wells. I open the email and read about how Charlie enjoyed the dinner they had shared together and can’t wait for them to meet up again. The end of the email makes me catch my breath.
Can’t wait to give you a big sloppy kiss the next time I see you. Love, Charlotte.
Wait! What?
My stomach drops at the same time as my jaw, and a cold feeling rushes through my entire body, like my veins are filled with ice. For a whole moment, I can’t take it in. It doesn’t make any sense, and yet, it’s there in black and white.
While I’ve been staying up night after night with my mother, Orson has clearly been making connections in my absence.
And then the rage comes. Maybe it’s based in the fears I had about this relationship to start with. Maybe I’m more angry with myself for taking a chance with my heart. It doesn’t matter. I’m angry.
Slamming my glass down on the desk, I tear a piece of paper out of the notebook and scribble a message. Leaving it on the keyboard of his laptop where he’s bound to see it, I then storm to my room and get dressed.