by T. K. Rapp
“How’s your mom?”
My hand reaches out to touch hers. “Not good. I’m here with her right now, and I can’t help but be scared.”
“What do the doctors say?”
“They really haven’t said anything that makes me feel any better, so it’s pretty much a waiting game right now.”
“Like I said, I’m here if you need anything.”
We say our goodbyes and I promise to keep him posted. He offers to meet me at the airport, but I tell him one of the girls will probably pick me up. I figure I need to let Joss or Cam know what’s going on because both have called, but I haven’t returned their calls. I’m not trying to be a bitch; I’ve had too much other stuff going on to deal with them. I send them each a text briefing them on the news about my mom and promise to let them know when I’m coming home. All of the small details have been taken care of, and I’m left in the hospital room with my mom and nothing but time.
The room isn’t quiet. In fact, the machine noises sing louder and louder while I try to hear my own thoughts. I get out of my chair and sit on mom’s bed to be closer to her.
“So,” I start, feeling a bit idiotic. “The doctors say you can hear us, but I’m not sure if that’s true. Seeing as I can’t sleep anyway, I figured I’d give it a try. Do you even know what happened?”
I lift her hand to cradle it in mine, careful not to touch her IV line. Her finger nail polish is chipped and scratched; her hands dry and wrinkled. Before my dad left us, she always took great pride in her appearance, but after, the rundown look has become her norm. She’s only forty-three, but she looks so much older with all of the drinking and smoking over the years.
“Why did you stay with this guy, mom? He almost killed you.” A tear runs down my cheek and I push it away with the back of my hand. “How many times will he have to hurt you until you realize he’s bad news? Your asshole boyfriend killed my baby.” Saying those words aloud hurt more than the bruises all over my body. “When I got here today, I was pregnant; you were going to be a grandma. I didn’t know how I was going to tell you, or Ryan, for that matter. But your awesome boyfriend took care of that.”
Anger wells deep within me, not at him for killing my baby, but at her for bringing him into our lives.
“I love you so much, but I hate you.” I feel a sharp pain in my chest when those words exit my mouth. “I don’t mean it, mom. I love you, I promise I do! I just don’t understand why you stay with him, or half the losers you continue to date. Is this really the life you want for yourself? This jerk almost killed you, and from what Lang says, it sounds like he throws you around on a regular basis.”
“I don’t know anything about my baby, other than I should have protected it, but instead I was fighting for you. But that’s your job, mom. You’re supposed to fight for us, you’re supposed to be the parent, but it’s a role you easily relinquished years ago. Sure, you gave us advice, and scolded us from time to time, but then you just stopped altogether, and chose you. I’ve always hated that about you. Your choices have been whatever served Nora best. Shit, mom, Lang never had a childhood because you were too messed up to do the job right. She’s more of a mom than you are, but I’m still waiting for my mom to grow up and choose me; choose us. Hell, maybe I’m more like you than I thought, because I wasn’t even thinking about my baby when I went after Scott.”
I brush my free hand through my hair in frustration. How did this become my life? Ryan no longer a part of it, mom in a hospital bed and me without the baby I wasn’t even planning on.
“Would you have been happy to be a grandma?”
I laugh because I know she would have insisted she’s too young to be a grandmother. She would have been thrilled, but mortified, and I naively wonder if she would have changed at all.
“When you make it through this,” I squeeze her hand, “because I know you will, you have to make some changes. You have to take better care of yourself and stop dating jerks. I’m serious mom, if this is what you want, then I can’t come around anymore. I’m pretty sure Lang’s with me on this one, so you have to straighten up because I know you don’t want to miss her wedding and she needs you there. We need you here, and you need to get some help. So no more bullshit, mom.”
I try to lean to kiss her, but the action causes pain to my ribs, so I kiss her hand.
When I move back to the chair next to her bed, I try to get comfortable in any position, but it doesn’t seem possible. Laying on my side, my eyes grow heavy and my silent tears fall once again.
CHAPTER 26
My body aches.
I keep trying to move and get comfortable, but every movement causes greater pain. The same machine noises, which were so loud last night, lulled me to sleep after my “talk” with mom. But the scratching sound I keep hearing is a new one. The room is freezing and I do my best to keep my eyes shut because I’m sure I’ve only slept for a couple of hours. I keep having strange dreams that I can’t remember, I just know they wake me briefly and then I manage to get back to sleep.
What in the world is that scratching noise?
It can’t be normal. I roll over to see my mom’s hand grasping at the blankets that are covering her body. I sit up as fast as my body will allow and get to her bedside. I take her hand in mine and look at her face; her good eye is barely open.
“Mom,” I squeeze her hand. “It’s Emmy. Can you hear me?”
She squeezes my hand back. “I’m going to get a nurse. I’ll be right back.”
I rush into the hallway to grab someone so they can check on mom. They send me out of the room while they examine her so I end up walking around the hospital, somehow ending up in the maternity ward. It’s still early, so there aren’t many visitors or even people standing to look at babies behind the glass. There are only a few that remain in the nursery, the rest are probably with their mothers. I stand there and look at them sleeping peacefully, so tiny and innocent.
Maybe it just wasn’t the right time, I try to rationalize, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Would I have been a good mom? I like to think I would be, but I’ve never really been around any kids. Hell, I never really considered having any of my own anytime soon. Even when Ryan and I were engaged, we never talked about it. I think we both wanted them, someday, but our careers were our top priority at the time. He would have been the most amazing dad. I’ve seen little girls look at him and he would smile widely at them and give them a wink. They would hide behind their parent’s legs and peek their head back out and smile at him. Those times where he acknowledged kids would make me smile and excited for the day we would have our own.
I make my way back to my mom’s room and knock on the door before opening it. She’s still on the ventilator, but she seems slightly more alert. A nurse is there with her checking something when she sees me.
“You’re her daughter, right?”
“Yes ma’am. How is she?”
“The doctor just left but he told her that he wants to keep her on the ventilator for a little longer. I’ve given her a pad and pencil to communicate. It’s probably going to be frustrating for her, but I told her that it’s just for a little while. Hopefully she’ll get the tube taken out this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” I say to her as she leaves the room.
Mom waves me in closer and her one good eye is open more than it was before. She taps the pad that’s on her chest, so I reach for it and hand it to her, assuming she has something to say. She shakes her head and points to me, so I take it and read her words.
“I’m sorry.”
“Mom, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I answer, hoping to ease her guilt.
She shakes her head and points to the pad again, but this time she wants it back. She scribbles something down and hands it back to me as a tear runs down her cheek.
“About the baby.”
“You heard me?” I start to cry reading her words.
She tries to nod her head and set the pad down on the table next to the
bed. She waves me closer and I place my hand in hers. She squeezes weakly, putting as much love into the movement as she can.
“It hurts so much, Mom. I didn’t know I could feel such pain.”
She reaches out to touch my face and her brow furrows. She points to the pad again so I hand it to her. “What are you going to tell Ryan?”
“Nothing. He doesn’t even know I was pregnant. I don’t want him to go through what I’m going through. To say anything would kill him, and it’s bad enough that I have to deal with it. I love him too much to hurt him like that.”
She shakes her head and writes again. “He has the right to know.”
“I know you’re right. But what is it going to solve, is it going to make him feel better? No. I’m trying to spare him.”
We look at each other and she silently disapproves of my decision, but she nods in understanding. I send Lang a text letting her know that mom is alert, but unable to communicate right now. She is on her way, so I only have a few more moments alone with Mom.
“So you heard what I said. What about everything else? What about Scott?”
She writes something down and shows it to me. “It’s never been this bad.”
She looks ashamed that I have to see her like this, and it gives me hope. Maybe she’s going to do what’s necessary to make sure it never happens again.
“He’s in jail right now. They need your statement as soon as you’re ready. Please promise me you’re going to press charges,” I plead with tears in my eyes.
She closes her good eye in defeat and nods her agreement before jotting something else down. She hands me the pad and I read her question. “Trey?”
I laugh, for the first time since early yesterday and shake my head, “Friends. We’re just very good friends. He was worried because he’s the only one who knows I’m pregnant.” I pause to correct myself, “Was pregnant.”
For the first time in a long time, being with her is a good thing. The sympathy she feels for me is visible through her bruised and swollen features. I wish my body didn’t ache as much as it does, because I want so much to crawl into her arms and let her console me. The door opens to reveal Lang and Reid holding hands, Ryan trailing in behind them. I didn’t know he was still around, I figured he would have headed to Salt Lake to get back to work. I remember the messages mom scribbled, so I take the pad and rip the pages free and toss them into the trash, leaving it ready for her next conversation.
I look down and shrug when she gives me that look, the one that says she knows exactly what I was up to. I wink at her and move aside so my sister can talk to her, and hopefully reiterate what I’ve already said.
* * *
By the afternoon, Mom’s ventilator was removed and she was a bit more comfortable. She was in a lot of pain, but at least she was able to move more freely. Langley kept trying to tell me it was okay for me to head home and she would keep me posted, but there was no way I was leaving until I knew that Mom did the one thing I asked of her.
I was in the room when the police came by early Monday morning to get her statement about the attack. It was somewhat hard for her to talk because her throat was sore, presumably from the breathing tube. The officer was patient as he listened to her recount the events of the day, but I couldn’t help but cry, hearing the story for the first time.
“Scott came over around three in the morning. He was still drunk from the night before, so I let him in and fixed him a place on the couch. I went back to sleep, but when my alarm went off for me to get up for work; he was in bed beside me. I didn’t even hear him come in. I tried to get out of the bed without disturbing him, but he woke up anyway. He started yelling crazy things, he sounded paranoid. Accused me of cheating, and then saying that I don’t make any time for him. I knew he was still drunk, so I tried to calm him down, but that pissed him off more.”
She looked over at Lang and me before continuing, but we both nodded for her to resume and tell them everything.
“I told him that I was going to call in sick to work and I would spend the day with him, and that’s when he snapped. He started screaming that he’s not a child and doesn’t need someone to babysit him. He started throwing crap all over the place and telling me that I’m worthless and lucky that he’s even with me. I tried to defend myself but he backhanded me and said it was no wonder my husband left me. I was holding my face and crying, but he didn’t care. I knew he was wrong, my husband left because he had issues, not me.”
It was the first time I’d ever heard mom acknowledge that my father was the problem, not her. I grabbed Lang’s hand and she squeezed as she heard the same thing. I felt hope; hope that maybe Mom was going to come out of this stronger.
“I fought back. For the first time since I met him, I yelled back and that set him off. He grabbed me by my throat and threw me against the wall. I was trying to pull his fingers off of me, but he was too strong. He head butted me in my eye and dropped me to the floor. I put my hand to my eye and there was blood, so I tried to get up and run, but he pushed me into another wall and that’s the last thing I remember.”
Listening to her find the strength to file charges against him made me both proud and hopeful that things were going to change. It was hard hearing the details of what happened, but I was also thankful she couldn’t remember the most brutal part of the attack. She knows she was stabbed in her stomach and her arm was broken, but she had already blacked out by that point.
I was convinced that things were taking a turn for the better, so I listened to my sister and decided to head home. Lang swore she would call me if anything changed, but she was taking Mom home with her once she was released from the hospital. Since I didn’t have anything to pack, I said my goodbyes and told Mom that I would call her to check in when I got back to my place.
Ryan followed me out to say goodbye, or so I thought. He insisted he could drop me off at the airport in Salt Lake, since he was heading back too. I argued that I had a rental car, but he said it made sense to leave it at the nearest drop off spot and drive to the city together. Somehow, being with him was exactly what I needed, so I agreed and here I am, ten minutes later regretting the decision.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask him, as though we are mere acquaintances.
“Yeah,” he nods, never taking his eyes off the road.
“Why did you drive all the way out here? I mean, I appreciate it, it’s just, we’re not together anymore, and well, I guess I’m just curious. You got me Langley’s message, you could have stopped there. But you didn’t, why?” I use the chance to stare at him while I wait for his answer. I haven’t been able to really look at him with everything that’s going on. He looks thinner than he did the last time I saw him. He’s still so beautiful, but something about him looks worn, but then again, the last two days have been pure hell.
He shrugs and looks over at me before returning his eyes to the road. “You’re my family, Em. I love your family and I knew that you would be scared. I really didn’t even think about it, I just knew I needed to get to the hospital. For you.”
“About the date-” I start to explain, but he shakes his head and interrupts me.
“You don’t need to say anything, Em. It’s none of my business, I mean, I don’t like it, but what can I say about it?” He sounds hurt when says this.
“Agreed, I don’t have to explain.” I glance at him and see the faintest of a smile appear. “But, just to let you know, I haven’t moved on. There are things that- I mean, work has me really busy.”
He reaches out to my hand that rests on my lap, but pulls away, until I flip my hand over, welcoming the gesture. His fingers entwine with mine and he squeezes gently. “I’m sorry for the circumstances, but I am happy I got to see you again.”
“Why did you leave the apartment the other night? I didn’t even know you were still there until I heard the door shut.”
He pulls his hand away, pain in his eyes. “You said it was over.”
“As I recall, I
only repeated your words, Ryan; you ended things between us and I’ve been doing what I have to do to be alright with your decision. It’s been harder than you know,” I admit, thinking about the baby we just lost.
I decide that now is not the time to talk about the failings of our relationship or what could have been. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the happenings of the last four days, and I’m exhausted and emotionally drained.
“How’s work going?” I ask him, sticking to a safe, superficial subject.
“It’s been okay, things have been pretty busy. We’re supposed to talk to a potential client on Wednesday.”
“Are you ready for it?” I’m curious how he could be; he’s been at the hospital for the last three days with me.
“I told Alex she needed to handle it, I had family business to take care of,” he states without any hint of sarcasm. “What about you? How’d your event go?”
I smile and give myself a mental pat on the back. “It went really well. I even gave out my card to a couple of interested ladies. I was supposed to meet with Elle this morning to brief her on everything, but obviously that didn’t happen.”
We talk the rest of the drive like old friends, but the air is heavy, and I can’t help the sadness that hides beneath the surface. He pulls into the drop off area at the airport and reaches for my hand again. To him, everything going on with me right now is related to my mom, because he doesn’t know that anything else has gone on.
“Nora’s going to be fine,” he says squeezing him hand.
“I know.” I look him in the eyes, because I believe it with all my heart. “It’s a lot to take in.”
I open my car door to get out and he meets me on the curb. He pulls me into his arms and I hug him back, because even though he doesn’t know what he lost, I do, and I’m sorry for that.
“Thanks for dropping me off, Ryan. I enjoyed being with you.”
“Me, too.” He kisses the top of my head before pulling away. “Call or text me when you get in?”