Chapter 9
nine
The rest of the day goes by in a blur, with doctors and nurses constantly coming in and out of my mom’s room.
Every conversation with them reiterates the seriousness of her injuries and how close she was to dying a couple of days ago.
It’s hard to reconcile what they’re saying with how my mom’s behaving.
She’s putting on a stoic face and attempting to mask her pain, pretending the meds she’s receiving every four hours are meeting her needs when they’re clearly not.
It doesn’t help that she refuses to rest, insisting she’ll sleep tonight because she doesn’t want to mess up her circadian rhythm.
For a few minutes, I tried to rationalize with her that it would be impossible to maintain her normal sleep schedule while in the hospital. Let’s just say that conversation didn’t last long. Her body might appear frail and pale, but her mind and tongue are back to normal.
Jake has stayed by my side, only leaving the room to occasionally take a phone call or grab food from the cafeteria.
He’s always struggled with this hospital since it’s where his dad died.
In high school, he refused to go inside to visit one of our good friends who was injured in an ATV accident.
Being here all day is major progress for him and increases my hope that he’ll honor his promise to stick around.
Although he’s physically here, his emotions are bottled up.
He has absolutely zero opinions on what my mom suggests for the funeral, agreeing to all her ideas, even the outlandish ones, and there are a lot of those.
At one point, I contemplated whether my mom was making outrageous requests to snap him out of this daze, because does a casket really need four types of roses?
It took everything in me to control my expression when she went through each type of flower in great detail, requiring me to take notes to ensure I don’t forget any of the information.
There was one specific variety that I’ve never heard of.
Can’t wait to talk to our small-town florist about that one.
The three of us are grieving in our own ways.
My mom is living in delulu land, pretending she didn’t almost die in a car accident and isn’t in the hospital.
Jake is acting like he’s on board with all her ideas and doesn’t have a broken heart.
I’m putting on my “everything is fine” face while it feels like the room is burning down with me inside it.
Convincing myself I can handle everything being thrown at me.
My mom prattles on with another request for the funeral as I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms. The pressure of being responsible for everything is starting to get to me, which is confusing because I usually excel when I’m overwhelmed.
This time feels different, though. I haven’t been able to plan, create to-do lists, or make a timeline.
Everything is happening at once, demanding my immediate attention, and I have no idea what’s going to happen next.
Jake leans over and whispers, “Do you need to step outside for a minute?”
I nod, knowing I need to get myself together and avoid breaking down in front of my mom. She doesn’t need me to lose my shit because I can’t manage all these tasks. What I’m experiencing is nothing compared to what she and Jake are going through.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Jake murmurs, meeting my gaze with intense sincerity in his eyes.
“No. I can handle it,” I reply, trying to convince myself it’s true, and ignoring how well Jake still seems to know me.
I take a deep breath and stand. “Mom, I’m going to head out and start preparing for tomorrow’s meeting with the funeral director. I also need to give Brian an update on everything.”
“Give Brian my love. I’m so glad he’s by your side. You’re extremely lucky to have a man like him in your life.”
“Yes, I am. He’s one-of-a-kind.”
I lean over to hug my mom, kissing the top of her head before leaving the room. I expect Jake to follow me and head out, too, but he tosses me the keys to his truck, moves to the chair closest to my mom’s bed, and gives me a brief wave.
After my short drive home, I stand in the front yard of my mom’s house, knowing I should go in, open my laptop, and make one of my notorious spreadsheets, outlining what needs to happen over the next few weeks, but the thought of doing that makes me sick.
Instead, I grab my keys and decide to get lost down a country back road.
It’s been years since I roamed around my hometown with no purpose. Driving empty country roads with the music blaring helps clear my head and enables me to figure out problems faster than sitting. If it weren’t winter in the Midwest, I’d roll down my windows to feel the crisp, cold air on my skin.
Once I’ve driven around aimlessly for thirty minutes, I head into town. I pull into the parking lot of the grocery store, deciding to FaceTime Brian. It’s only been a few days since I saw him, and it already feels like a lifetime. I have no idea how I’ll handle spending months away from him.
“Hey. It’s so good to see you,” I say when Brian’s face appears on my screen after the fourth ring.
“Good to see you, beautiful. How are you doing?”
“Okay. It’s been hard, but I’m hanging in there,” I reply, trying to hold back my tears. “My mom has a long road to recovery, and I’ll need to be here for a few months. And I have to work with Jake on planning the funeral for his mom. It’s just… It’s a lot.”
He runs his fingers through his dark brown hair, which curls slightly at the ends, as he leans back in his office chair. “I wish I could be there with you. I hate that I can’t get away,” he says remorsefully.
I nod. “I get it. Work comes first.” Discomfort settles in my chest, and I try to push it down.
I can’t get frustrated at him for not dropping everything to be with me when it’s the start of tax season.
I take a deep breath, convincing myself he would be right next to me if the timing were different.
“I might be able to drive down and back the same day for the funeral.” He sits straight in his chair, appearing to flip through his calendar as we’re talking. “Do you know what day it is yet?”
“Not officially. The funeral director said he could fit us in any day next week.”
“Tuesday works best for me,” Brian says, moving his gaze away from his computer and back onto me.
“I’ll try to make that happen. It’d be good to see you.
I could really use one of your hugs.” The dam is breaking as tears fall down my face.
I’m minutes away from bawling and finally letting out the emotions I’ve been burying for the past couple of days.
I don’t want Brian to see me like that. He doesn’t love it when I cry, and I’d hate to make him feel guilty for not being here with me.
“It’s going to be okay, beautiful. The next few days will be hard, but you’ll get through it. Your mom is lucky to have you by her side.” His loving gaze instantly calms my nerves, warms my heart, and slows my tears.
“It’s harder than I could’ve imagined. I don’t know how I’ll get everything done. The funeral. My mom’s recovery. My job. Our wedding.”
“One day at a time. Make one of your kickass spreadsheets. It always makes you feel better when you can see everything outlined.”
“That’s my plan tonight, along with attempting to get through my inbox. I didn’t realize how many emails people send me until this week. It’s ungodly.” I shake my head and slouch slightly in the front seat of my car.
“That’s what happens when you’re killing it at work.
You’re in all the meetings and get copied on all the important emails.
Everyone needs a piece of your time,” he says, beaming with pride.
He’s the biggest cheerleader for my career, always encouraging me to strive for perfection.
Our similar work ethic is one of the main things Brian and I have in common.
“Why don’t you go home. Order some dinner.
Fire up the laptop and hunker down to do what you do best. Organize the hell out of everything. ”
“Oddly enough…that sounds wonderful. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Talk to you tomorrow. I love you, Kate.”
“I love you, too. Good night,” I say before ending the call.
Although talking to Brian makes me more confident about tackling everything on my plate, I have a feeling of unease I can’t quite explain.
It’s likely nothing.
A figment of my imagination due to always assuming the worst.
There’s no way it has anything to do with Brian.