Chapter 10
TEN
JESSICA
The nurse behind the desk looks up from her notes when I walk up to the counter, having shaken my umbrella and propped it against the wall.
A faint smile pulls at her lips, and she closes the file. “Your sister came by the other day.”
Guilt is gnawing at my insides. I place my elbows on the counter and scratch my brow with an apologetic smile that’s even weaker than hers when I first walked in. “I was busy.”
She must see the guilt-ridden look on my face because she places her soft hand on mine. “It’s okay to take a day for yourself. You can’t be strong all the time.”
I appreciate her touch and the reassuring, empathetic smile she offers me, but Mom won’t be with us for much longer. I can’t let myself get distracted. The little time that we have left is precious.
“You’re warring with yourself,” she says, dipping her head to look me in the eye when I struggle to meet hers.
“You’re strong, Jessica. But you’re human.
And you’ve been here every day since the day your mother got admitted.
You’ve watched her progressively get worse, and that’s tough on anyone. It’s okay to rest.”
My eyes prick when she squeezes my hand.
“How is she?” I ask. “Summer says the new medication is making her sleepy.”
She collects a stack of files and walks around the counter. I follow her down the hallway toward my mother’s room. Daylight is bleeding through the shut blinds in her darkened bedroom. The flowers I got her the other day sit on the windowsill.
Nurse Madsen turns the blinds to let more light into the room. “She’s comfortable enough for now.”
That’s all we can ask for at this stage. The cancer is terminal, and no one knows how long she has left. It could be weeks… or months. There’s no way to tell.
She gives me one last smile when I sit down, then leaves the room. Mom barely stirs as I reach for her hand, smoothing my fingers over her bony knuckles. She used to be so radiant and full of life. Even when things were hard, Mom stayed strong for us.
“Hey, Mom.” I kiss her knuckles, wishing she would open her eyes and smile at me like she used to.
It has been a long time since she really looked at me.
It has been an even longer time since we spoke.
I miss the days when I felt like I could tell her everything.
Mom is more than just a mom. She’s my best friend.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday.”
The constant sound of the heartbeat monitor will stay with me forever.
At first, when Mom was admitted, I hated that sound, but now it reassures me, because I know there will be a day when the steady beep ceases… A day when silence falls like a blanket of snow in winter.
“Something came up, and I—”
Tears blur my vision and prick my nose. I squeeze her fragile hand, wishing I could rub warmth back into her skin. She has lost weight in the last few weeks. Her skin is gaunt and has a yellow tint.
“I wanted to be here.”
My quiet voice rouses her, and I sit up straighter when she slowly turns her head on the pillow. It takes her a moment to focus, her shaky hand reaching for me. She’s squinting, as if the sun hurts her eyes, so I shift forward to block it out as a tired smile spreads across her lips.
“Hi, baby,” she croaks.
“Hi, Mom.” Tears burn my eyes again as I press her hand to my cheek and tenderly kiss the inside of her fragile wrist. “How are you feeling?”
She shakes her head weakly, attempting to smile again, but she’s too exhausted. “Tell me about you and your siblings. I want to know about my family.”
For the next few minutes, I update her on what’s been going on at home, leaving out the negative details.
I don’t want her to worry about us. She listens until she no longer does.
I can tell that she tries to stay present, but her body is too weak, and she’s soon asleep again.
I keep talking because I like to think that some part of her deep down can still hear me. Some part of her listens.
Wiping my cheeks dry, I rummage through my bag until I find the tattered paperback of Emma I brought with me and open it to chapter nine. The spine is damaged, and I’ve earmarked pages in almost every chapter. It’s a well-loved copy, in other words, and one I’ll cherish once Mom is gone.
Mom sleeps peacefully as I lean back in my chair and begin reading aloud.
An hour later, I give Mom a kiss on the forehead and head out. I need to get some sleep.
Chris sits on the floor outside with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands tangled in his matted hair. He runs his fingers through the messy waves, tugging at the disheveled strands, and when he sees me, he quickly jumps to his feet.
“You could always visit her, you know?” It’s hard to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “She’d like that.”
Chris shoves his hands into his pockets and scuffs the floor, then shrugs. “You know I can’t see her like that.”
“Get over yourself,” I snap as I walk past. Mom has been in the hospice for months, and he hasn’t visited once. Is that how he wants her to die? Missing her son?
“Do you think you’re the only one hurting?” he calls out after me, and I draw to a halt.
It takes everything in me to control my breathing, to not succumb to the pain that’s pressing on my chest, right in the center.
I spin around. Chris looks wrecked, but I don’t care about his emotions for once. Mom is dying, yet he’s burying his head in the sand, pretending everything is fucking okay.
Nothing is okay.
I storm over. “For months, I’ve had to do everything myself because you weren’t there.”
He clenches his jaw, staring at the off-white wall. “I can’t watch her deteriorate.”
“Well, tough. What else are you going to do? Sit out here while Mom slowly dies? She misses you.”
There’s a sheen in his eyes when he finally tears his attention away from the wall and drags his hand up the back of his neck. He ruffles his hair, visibly upset.
“Just...” I lift my hands at my sides and let them fall. “I can’t do this alone, Chris. Summer is only eighteen. Dad is drunk all the time…”
He finally meets my eyes, and it hurts more than his silence.
“You’re my big brother.” My words tremble between us. “I need you.”
When he doesn’t respond, I start to walk away, but he catches up and grabs my arm. “What are you doing with Ravencourt?”
Kane? So that’s what this is about? He didn’t come here to spend time with Mom; he came to interrogate me.
“I see your little minions like to gossip.”
His grip tightens. “Answer the fucking question!”
“You’re hurting me.” I try to jerk free from the bruising hold he has on my arm. “Let go.”
“What was Ravencourt doing there?”
“I don’t know, okay? He just showed up.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
I finally pull free of his grip. “Yes.” His fingerprints are visible on my skin. I rub the red marks. “Believe me or not. I don’t care, okay? It’s the truth.”
A muscle twitches in his jaw before he leans in close. “Stay away from Ravencourt, sis. I won’t let you embarrass us like that. You hear me? He’s from the fucking Heights. His dad is one of the founders of this town—”
“You think I don’t know that?” I snap, tears brimming in my eyes. “I’m not stupid.”
His eyes blaze. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” A bitter laugh bubbles up. He’s not trying to protect me; he’s just worried about his reputation. I turn to leave, but he hauls me back again.
“Once he’s fucked you, he’ll kick you to the curb like yesterday’s trash. That’s what they do.”
“Because that’s all I’m good for, right? All we’re good for?”
Something softens in his eyes. “Exactly… At least for them. All they care about is money and power.”
I worm my arm free of his hold. “I can handle myself, Chris. I don’t need you to protect me.”
“You aren't to see him again.”
“Excuse me?”
Not that I want to spend time with Kane Ravencourt, but I won’t let my brother decide what I can or can’t do. Screw him.
“You heard me.”
I step into him. “You don’t get a say in what I do.”
He sucks on his teeth and chuckles bitterly under his breath before leaning in close to my ear.
“Stay away from him, sis. Consider this my final warning. Ravencourt can screw his way through every willing girl in town, but I won’t let him near my sisters.
And I won’t let you embarrass me like that.
If I get wind that you’ve seen him again, I’ll kill him. Understood?”
My breath trembles as he walks away. Fury is boiling beneath my skin like a pan of water on a hot stove.
By some stroke of luck, no one is around to see me quake with rage. It takes several deep breaths and vicious wiping of my wet cheeks to finally calm down enough to make my way past the reception desk.
While I’m quietly stewing, my phone buzzes with a new message.
It’s Kane.
Of course it fucking is. He won’t leave me alone.
“Prick,” I mutter, deleting the message without reading it.