A Mother's Choice

by Kristin Noel Fischer

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I embraced this feeling of elation, never wanting it to end. Finally, I opened my eyes and stared down at the postcard. At first, I didn’t understand. This was his surprise? This was what I’d waited for? A cartoon?

  The picture was cute, showing Mickey Mouse carrying a large bouquet of roses, but I didn’t understand. Then I remembered he’d told me to use a magnifying glass. I raced across the room and dug through the drawer of my bedroom desk until I found one. Even with the magnifying glass, I didn’t get it.

  Disappointment filled me, but suddenly everything shifted into place. Hidden in the boarder of the postcard was Jude’s message to me. “I adore you, I adore you, I adore you, Nadine Rose. You’re the love of my life, and we’ll be together soon. Love, Jude.”

  Joy erupted inside me. I pressed the postcard to my heart and squealed. Jude Kingsley adored me. I was the love of his life! Soon we would be together again!

  I read the postcard over and over. Now that I knew what the words said, I didn’t need the magnifying glass. Jude loved me, and nothing was better than that.

  *

  All through my senior year of high school, Jude and I corresponded via letters and postcards. Every so often he would call, and while our conversations were brief, hearing his voice restored my belief that regardless of our distance, we were meant for each other.

  Sometimes, when I hadn’t heard from him in a long time, I’d wonder about our future. Was turning down dates from other boys and waiting for Jude the right thing to do? After all, I hadn’t seen him since the spring of my junior year. Maybe I’d exaggerated his virtues. Maybe our love wasn’t so special.

  In my nightstand drawer, I kept a bottle of his shampoo I’d bought from the drug store. Each night, I’d unscrew the lid and breathe in its rich, woodsy scent, imagining Jude there beside me. But as my senior year came to an end, my faith slipped, and my feelings began to change.

  Given what happened next, I’m ashamed to say if there’d been someone else who interested me, I might not have remained faithful. But faithful to Jude I remained.

  In the fall, Ruby and I roomed together at the University of Washington. Several of our classmates, including Tim O’Connor, ended up attending the same school. Jude talked about coming back to Seattle for college, but his parents would only pay for a school on the east coast, so our forced separation continued.

  For me, college was a whole new world. Without the watchful eye of my parents, I experienced an incredible sense of freedom. I wrote Jude a long letter, saying we’d be able to communicate better now that we didn’t have to hide things. I anxiously awaited his response, expecting a lengthy love letter, but all he sent was a catchy little postcard.

  “What’s wrong?” Ruby asked. “Don’t you like the drawing?”

  “I do.” I leaned against the dormitory mailboxes, examining Jude’s latest postcard for its hidden message of undying love. “I was just hoping for something more than a short message. I miss him so much, but it’s been such a long time since we saw each other that—”

  “That you worry nothing’s there anymore?”

  My heart gave a loud thud. It was the first time I’d voiced my fears out loud, but Ruby had read my mind. “I’m being a fool, right? Whenever he calls, I know he’s worth waiting for—but am I ever going to see him again?”

  Ruby’s response was interrupted when Tim rounded the corner. “Hey, you two. How about letting me take my best girls out for a burger? What do you say?”

  Ruby brightened and smoothed back her long, brown hair. “Sure, we’d love to.”

  I didn’t respond, and Tim gave me a questioning look. Sometimes, I found it odd that many of his dates with Ruby included me. I wanted to believe he was simply being nice, but I feared he liked me more than he should.

  I was fond of Tim, but Ruby was my best friend. I’d already stolen one boy from her; I wasn’t going to steal another. Besides, I had Jude. Didn’t I?

  “What’d he say?” Tim asked, motioning to the postcard.

  I held it up for him to see. “I won’t be able to read the message until I look at it with my magnifying glass, but I recognize Elvis and the Space Needle.”

  Tim shook his head with disdain. “Elvis. You used to be crazy about that guy.”

  “I did,” I agreed, regretting how much my obsession with Elvis had gotten me in trouble.

  Ruby linked her arm through Tim’s. “Did you talk to your cousin?”

  Tim gave a self-satisfied grin. “Yes.”

  “And?”

  All week, Ruby had talked excitedly about the possibility that Tim’s cousin might be able to get us hired to play a part in the upcoming movie Elvis was filming here in Seattle next week.

  “If we show up early, they’ll pay us ten dollars to be in the movie,” Tim said.

  Ruby squealed. “Really? Wouldn’t that be something, to be in an Elvis Presley movie?”

  “You’re going to come with us, Nadine, right?” Tim asked.

  I shook my head. Initially, I’d shared Ruby’s enthusiasm, but now I wasn’t so sure. Jude’s postcard had left me in a foul mood, and I needed to think about things. “I have a Humanities test to study for.”

  Ruby groaned. “That’s not until later. You have to come see Elvis, right Tim?”

  He rolled his eyes and spoke in a sarcastic tone. “Of course you do. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I conceded. “But I’m going to pass on dinner tonight. I’m tired and have a headache.”

  They left without much of a fuss, and I climbed the stairs to my dorm room. I no longer enjoyed listening to Elvis—not because I didn’t like his music anymore, but because he reminded me of Jude, and I was tired of thinking about Jude all the time. We’d been together a year and a half, but instead of memories of dates and kisses, all I had was a shoebox full of postcards. What kind of relationship was that?

  During the war, my parents had been separated for two years, but they’d been engaged. My father had written long, romantic letters to my mother, and she’d done the same. Things weren’t like that with Jude and me. While we had professed our love to each other, I wasn’t so sure we were still in love.

  Flopping on the bed, I glanced at the postcard again. Jude had drawn Elvis dancing in front of the Space Needle. “Meet me at the World’s Fair” was written in bold letters across the top of the picture.

  Using my magnifying glass, I found Jude’s message written along the side of the Space Needle. “I would if I could, but I can’t so I shan’t. But one day, my precious Nadine Rose … one day, we’ll meet again.”

  I heaved a deep sigh and turned onto my stomach. One day? Really? When would that be? Was I just supposed to continue waiting around for him? Maybe I was like an old sweater at the back of his closet. Something not worn in years but too sentimental to be thrown away. Maybe Jude already had someone else and was just stringing me along. I didn’t think he’d do something like that, but why else did he find it so easy to stay away?

  He’d talked about coming to see me for my birthday and then for high school graduation, but both of those dates had fallen through. I couldn’t do this anymore. It wasn’t fair to either of us to keep our lives on hold when we didn’t have a future together.

  Rising from the bed, I went to my desk, where I composed the most difficult letter of my life. With tears in my eyes, I ran downstairs and slid the envelope though the mail slot before I lost my nerve.

  Back in my bedroom, I took the shampoo bottle from my nightstand, opened the top, and allowed myself one last deep inhale. The scent was incredible, but it was shampoo, not a real person.

  I took the bottle to the bathroom, dumped its contents down the sink, and threw the container away. Then I returned to my dorm room, climbed into bed, and cried myself to sleep.

  Chapter 12

  Despite the alarm of panic blaring in my head after Eleanor’s phone call, I packed up the boys and drove to the hospital as c
almly as possible. My mother had been struck by a car while walking through the grocery store parking lot!

  As horrible as that sounded, I refused to freak out. My sister could be a little high strung, so maybe she was overreacting. Maybe I’d arrive at the hospital to see my mom striding up and down the hallway, insisting she was fine.

  I wanted to call Kyle, but I didn’t want to wake him, especially if everything turned out to be okay. Besides, how could he possibly help when he was in a foreign country?

  “Is Grandma going to die?” Logan asked from the back seat.

  My hands shook on the steering wheel. “No, of course not. She’ll be fine.”

  “Then why are you driving so fast?”

  I glanced down at the dash, shocked I was traveling several miles over the speed limit. “Sorry, Logan. I’ll slow down.”

  “Thank you,” he said politely.

  At the hospital, I parked the car and unbuckled the boys. Logan took my purse while I carried Zane who was conked out and showed no signs of waking. I swore he weighed one hundred pounds more when he was sleeping, so by the time I found everyone in the waiting room, my arms were about to fall off. Michael took Zane from me and hoisted him over his shoulder.

  “Thanks,” I said. “How’s Mom?”

  My sister-in-law Darlene pulled me into a big hug. Her large body shook with quiet sobs. “Oh, Autumn, it’s not good. Not good at all.”

  I felt a blow to my gut and pulled away. Michael shifted Zane to his other shoulder, avoiding eye contact with me. Zane stirred for a moment before weaving his hand through Michael’s long beard and sinking back into a deep sleep.

  “What’s going on?” I asked my oldest brother Dan.

  He gave me a strong pat on the back, which for him was a huge show of affection. I blinked away tears, dreading the answer to my question.

  Jim stepped forward. “Your mother is unconscious, but Eleanor’s with her. I can take you back if you’d like, but the boys have to stay in the waiting room.”

  Darlene put her arm around Logan’s shoulder. “I left my boys with the next-door neighbor, so I need to go home.” Her bottom lip trembled, but she forced a brave smile. “Can I take Logan and Zane back to our house?”

  I nodded. “Thank you, Darlene.”

  After hugging my kids good-bye, I followed Jim down the hallway of the ICU. The smell of antiseptic burned my nostrils, and acid settled in the pit of my stomach. Just a few hours ago, we’d all been at Eleanor’s house complaining about the price of gas and never-ending construction on the highway. The kids had laughed and swam and played Marco Polo with my mother. How could things have changed so quickly?

  Jim ushered me into the room, and I gasped at my mom’s lifeless body. She was connected to several intimidating machines and her skin was incredibly pale. Her eyes were closed, and a large bandage covered the entire right side of her head.

  My legs turned to rubber. “Oh, Mom.”

  Eleanor spun around. “Autumn.” Her voice was sharp, as if my outburst had been inappropriate. Against my better judgment, I crossed the room and tried to hug my sister, but unlike Darlene, Eleanor stiffened.

  “Okay, you’re fine,” she said, patting my shoulder in a similar manner to Dan’s.

  I stepped back and crossed my arms, feeling vulnerable and afraid. “How is she doing?”

  Eleanor smoothly transitioned into doctor mode, explaining everything with intricate details I didn’t understand. “They had to intubate her since she stopped breathing, and right now the ventilator—”

  “But she’s going to be okay in the end, right?” I insisted. “She’s going to pull through and be fine?”

  My sister straightened. “She’s a sixty-nine-year-old woman who’s suffered a major accident, Autumn. There’s not a lot of hope at this point.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I can’t believe you just said that. There’s always hope. Is that how you talk to your patients? That’s awful.”

  She flinched, and I was glad because she shouldn’t talk about our mother like that. Mom was a fighter. She was stronger than any woman, and she was going to survive this.

  “Look,” Eleanor continued, “I’m just trying to be realistic and keep things in perspective. We’ll know more in the next twenty-four hours, but we need to prepare ourselves for the worst.”

  The lump in my throat throbbed. “No, we need to be optimistic and pray for a miracle. We need to expect Mom will overcome this.”

  Eleanor said nothing. I turned away and stared down at my mom. Never in a million years would I describe her as frail, but lying in that bed, she looked as if she were a hundred years old and on the doorstep of death.

  Rage shot through me. “Did they arrest the driver who hit her? He must’ve been drunk or on drugs or something.”

  It was Jim who responded. I’d been so focused on my mother and sister that I’d forgotten he was in the room. “No, they didn’t arrest him, and according to the police, he was clean. I’m not sure what’s going to happen. It’s under investigation.”

  I shook my head, devastated. Nausea gripped my stomach. We couldn’t lose our mother like this. We couldn’t. I took her limp hand in mine and silently promised I would do everything possible to get her better.

  *

  For the rest of the night, Eleanor, my brothers, and I stayed with our mother. I think it was the longest the four of us had been together without our kids or spouses, and it was a strange and awkward dynamic.

  Around four in the morning, one of the doctors informed us that our mother was stable and we should go home to get some rest. Dan stood and reached for his jacket as if he were actually leaving.

  “What about Tim?” I asked, feeling the need to do something, even if it was just tracking down my mother’s boyfriend.

  Michael tugged on his beard. “Who’s Tim?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but there was a letter on Mom’s nightstand from someone named Tim,” I explained. “He addressed her as ‘My Darling Nadine’ and signed the letter, ‘All my love, Tim.’ He’s probably important to Mom, and we need to find him.”

  Dan pulled on his leather jacket. “What’d the letter say?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I only read the beginning and the ending. Nothing in between.”

  My brothers shared an amused smile, the first since coming to the hospital. They were two years apart and used to look a lot alike before Michael went all Duck Dynasty.

  “We’re supposed to believe that?” Dan said, a twinkle in his eye.

  “It’s true. I wanted to read the letter, but I didn’t. I swear.”

  “Good, because it’s none of your business,” Eleanor said, her irritation palpable.

  I studied my sister carefully. She knew every detail of our mother’s life, from what day she played Mah Jongg to her cleaning lady’s favorite tea. “Eleanor, what do you know about Tim?”

  Her expression faltered, and she placed a protective hand on her stomach. “Nothing. I’ve never even heard of him.”

  Her jaw twitched and her hand made that circular motion over her belly. She was lying. But why? She’d been just a child when our father died, was the idea of our mother being with another man too difficult to take?

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “In the letter—”

  Anger lit Eleanor’s eyes. “Why were you snooping through Mother’s things?”

  “I wasn’t. I just found it when I was looking for a book to read.”

  She turned away to study the monitor on one of the machines. “We need to focus on Mother, not on some imaginary relationship she doesn’t have. If she had a boyfriend, I’d know about it.”

  Dan nervously ran a hand through his thick black hair. My father had thick black hair like Dan and Michael’s, and I wondered if he’d often done the same thing when worried. “It’s hard to believe Mom has a boyfriend. Do you know his last name, or where he lives? Or was that not in the letter.”

  He winked at Michael, and I knew Dan was teasi
ng, something else he did whenever anxious.

  “I didn’t read the letter,” I repeated. “But maybe I should.”

  “No,” Eleanor snapped. “Just let it go.”

  “What about Mom’s phone?” Michael asked, ignoring our sister. “Maybe we could find Tim’s contact information that way.”

  “The police are looking for it,” Dan said. “It was probably tossed across the parking lot when the truck hit her.”

  I shuddered at the disturbing image and closed my eyes. I tried to pray, but the noisy rhythm of the machines distracted me. Taunted me with the idea that maybe this time, no amount of praying would help.

  Dan zipped up his jacket. “I’ve got to get home to Darlene and the kids. I’m working tomorrow, but I’ll come back in the evening.”

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Michael said, not bothering to give an excuse for why he couldn’t stay.

  Eleanor nodded, accustomed to our brothers leaving during uncomfortable situations. “I’ll call if there’s any change,” she said, taking charge.

  After they left, Eleanor and I sat in silence. I needed to do something to help, but of course there was nothing to be done. I wasn’t a doctor, and I didn’t have a supernatural way of making all this go away.

  My mind drifted to Tim. Was he expecting my mother to call? I pictured a good-looking, older gentleman dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, waiting on the golf course tomorrow or at a restaurant. Maybe he was one of the other volunteers at the Boys and Girls Club.

  I looked up at Eleanor and spoke in my kindest, softest voice. “He’s probably worried about her.”

  “Who?”

  “Tim. The man that wrote the letter.”

  She flicked an invisible piece of dust off her sweater. “You don’t know that, and if he is, he’ll contact us to find out what happened.”