6. Falcon
Same Song, Different Beats . . .
“Are you there yet?” Dove asked. There was so much worry in her voice as it came through my car speaker. “When I called earlier, she rushed me off the phone.”
I sighed deeply. “I’m here, Sis. I’ll let you know when I leave.”
We spoke for another minute before we disconnected the call.
Our mother had been a little off for the past few days.
I asked our father, but in his true nature, he told us that she was fine.
Dove and I knew that meant that if there was anything wrong with her that he had it.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t good enough for me or Dove.
We both felt a pop-up was needed. My father was off at one of my properties doing what he did best . . . process improvement. I climbed out of my car to take the walk to the front door.
I knew before Dove or my mother told me that Lauren Coral was in the middle of a flare.
I didn’t need to be a doctor to know it either.
I was her son who watched her since she was diagnosed.
I knew the difference between her tired and lupus draining her energy.
Lauren Coral would never admit it, though, because to her, that would have made her weak.
That woman would go toe-to-toe with God if he called her weak.
It just wasn’t in her makeup to be weak.
I knocked on the door before I used my key to enter. The chain on the door stopped it from fully opening. “Ma, why do you have the chain on the door? Come open this door!”
My parents’ house was a nice size, so I made sure to project my voice since I didn’t know where she was in the house.
The nerve of her to have the damn chain on the door.
I wasn’t sure where we did that at, especially when her husband wasn’t home.
The chain normally went on the door when he was home and if they were doing things that I didn’t want to think about.
It was another minute after I yelled out again before I heard her. “Falcon, I’m coming. Calm down.”
Each word sounded like it fought through her exhaustion to get to my ears.
She pushed the door closed, then I heard the chain come off.
When the door opened, she had already walked away toward the kitchen.
Her steps were stiff and deliberate as she walked closer to the wall than normal.
That could only mean that her joints were inflamed.
I sat on a barstool at the kitchen island as she busied herself with her teapot. There was nothing for me to say yet. I wanted to put eyes on her before I did.
Once she was done with her tea, she turned to face me. There it is. From one cheek across the bridge of her nose to the other spread a rash. She tried to cover it with foundation, from what I could tell, but the rash won. It looked irritated, and she looked frustrated.
My eyes shot down to her hand that gripped her teacup. Well, tried to grip the teacup. Her fingers were swollen around the knuckles, which I could tell made it hard for her to grip the cup like she wanted. The skin over her knuckles looked tight and stretched.
These were all the signs of her flare that I needed. Another was the fact that she didn’t curse me out when she opened the door for screaming in her house. My mother was feisty. She said what she wanted to say and dared you to think that she wouldn’t.
“So, how long since all this?” I asked in a quiet tone.
Her eyes squinted, and her head tilted. “Good morning to you as well, Falcon.” She paused for dramatic effect and time for her eyes to roll. “Yesterday.”
She picked her cup up as tightly as she could, then slowly made her way to a seat in the breakfast nook that was in the bay window of the kitchen. She huffed after she sat down and was as comfortable as she could get.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before I took my seat across from her. We stared at each other while I took a drink from the bottle. “How bad is the pain, Ma?”
She took a sip from her teacup. My mother made her own tea and had for years. She used to sell them but found it more trouble than it was worth. Now she gifted them to friends. “It’s manageable.”
My head shook. That wasn’t good enough, and she should have known that. “Ma, on a scale of one to ten, where is your pain?”
“Falcon, you’re not going to get on my nerves this morning. I already answered all these questions with your worrisome daddy. Now here you come,” she fussed.
I chuckled at the notion that she thought I cared if she answered these questions with him.
“Ma, if you did answer these questions with him, you probably lied. I know you. You stayed your ass in the bed this morning so that he wouldn’t see you move around.
If he saw you walk the way I just did, his ass wouldn’t have gone anywhere today. Again, on a scale of one to ten?”
She scoffed because she knew I was right. There was no way that my father would have left this house if he knew his wife was in any kind of pain. She sighed with closed eyes. “A six when I’m relaxed and not moving. An eight when I move around.”
It was my turn to scoff. “Ma! That is not manageable. Are you serious right now?”
She chuckled. “Falcon, it’s not an emergency either. This, too, shall pass.”
Technically, she wasn’t wrong. As I looked her over a little more, I took in the full picture.
She hadn’t complained of chest pains when she inhaled, and her breathing was even.
She was oriented, alert, and showed signs that I was on her nerves.
That counted as a good neurological assessment in my opinion.
Her eyes weren’t puffy underneath, and her ankles didn’t appear to be swollen.
She didn’t mention a headache, a temperature, or anything like that.
“You have a fever or anything?” I asked. She probably didn’t mention it because I didn’t ask. Yes, her lupus was moderate, but that didn’t mean it was harmless.
All the moderate term meant was that her ability to function was interfered by the lupus that was just active enough to do so. It wasn’t aggressive enough to create an immediate threat to any of her major organs. At least that was what those people told us.
I leaned up from my seat, then stretched my hand across the table toward her head. She swiftly smacked my hand down. Her beautiful face screwed up. “Boy, I know how to check my own temperature. I used to check yours.”
I chuckled as I sat back down. “Alright, then what was it? I want to know what it was last night and this morning, ma’am.”
“Let me cover all this so we can move the hell on. Last night it was one hundred point four, and this morning, it was one hundred point one when I checked a little over an hour ago. I’m not coughing, my throat doesn’t hurt, and I’m not congested.
Oh, and most importantly, but none of your business, it doesn’t burn when I pee.
Yes, I have one mouth sore inside my cheek.
Is there anything else, Dr. St. Claire?” Oh, she was really annoyed now.
With a stone expression, I responded, “Actually, yes, there is. Are you having any hair shedding, shortness of breath, or chest pains? Are you having headaches?”
She plopped back in her seat, then crossed her arms over her chest. With tight eyes, she responded. “My hair is shedding more than usual. No, I’m not having shortness or pain when I breathe, and yes, I have a headache because you are on my last nerve.”
If I had to get on her nerves to make sure she was alright, then that was what I would do. “Did you take all your medication? All of it, Mama?”
“Boy, you act like I was diagnosed yesterday. I’ve been taking these meds since before your lil peen worked.” She sat up and leaned her forearms on the table. “Stop playing with me.”
My top lip twitched. “You’re doing way too much, Ma. You didn’t have to say all that.”
At that second, I realized that I didn’t see any food on the counter, pots on the stove, or dishes in the sink. “Ma, when’s the last time you ate?”
“I ate dinner last night around seven,” she confirmed. Before I could say anything else, she held her finger up. “I already sent rheumatology a message this morning in the portal. You don’t have to play doctor. I have plenty.”
My arm lifted so I could see the time on my watch. “It’s almost noon. No one responded yet?”
Now I was irritated. When she told me that it was Saturday, I wanted to knock everything over. I didn’t give a damn about the day of the week when my mama was in pain. That was why they had an after-hours line that I was sure she didn’t bother to call.
She huffed, then slowly stood to her feet. It prompted me to do the same. My hand gently grabbed her arm when she started to walk my way. She glanced at me with a side-eye. “You know I’ve been walking to my couch for years now. I think I can manage.”
“I know that, and today you will manage with me helping you. You will also manage with me calling the after-hours line for your doctor,” I told her.
I got her comfortable on the couch with a blanket over her lap, because she said that she was cold.
Her swollen knuckles wouldn’t allow her to handle the material like she normally would.
There was no answer when I called the after-hours line, which was normal.
They normally called back within the hour after a message was left.
My mother looked at me with an evil eye when I plopped down next to her, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television. I flipped through a few channels. “What do you want to watch, Ma?”
“I would love to watch you walk out of my house and leave me the hell alone. That’s what I want to watch. Can you make that happen?” She rolled her beautiful eyes.
I held it for a millisecond, then I burst into laughter. Why was she like this? “Dang, Mama. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”
Her resolve softened. “Turn to Family Feud. You know I can’t miss my man, Steve.”