Cursed

by Jamie Leigh Hansen

  “Right. The cancer has metastasized further.”

  Elizabeth stared blankly.

  “It means it has spread further into her lungs and into her bloodstream.” He explained with a kind tone and expression.

  “I see.” Elizabeth’s brows drew together. Her mom was dying. Cancer was eating her body. But none of that was new, Mary Beth had been fighting the cancer for months and had sounded fine just yesterday, so why the emergency phone call?

  “It means, if there’s anyone who hasn’t said their good-byes yet, they need to do so now or they won’t have a chance,” he clarified for her.

  Elizabeth frowned, her brows drawing together as she glanced at the bed. Had her mom known she was getting worse? Had she thought all her delays and cancellations over the last few weeks would help her squeeze out of saying good-bye? Not going to happen, Mother. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but she’s resistant. She doesn’t want the kids to see her sick. But they need to say good-bye.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Many patients feel this way. It’s sad for those who haven’t had that chance for a last visit, but it happens. Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

  It was a weak hope he offered, but it was all he could give. Elizabeth gave a small smile and nodded. “I thought this kind of thing took longer than just a few months.”

  “On the contrary. It usually happens quite fast. It was likely her age that helped her battle this long, but in the end …” He shrugged, his brown eyes sympathetic.

  Elizabeth looked into the doctor’s kind eyes, then away. He had a horrible job and didn’t need her bad attitude making it worse. “Thank you, doctor.”

  He paused, meeting her eyes for a moment. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, Ms. Raines.”

  “The kids—”

  “If she agrees, they can come. Perhaps one or two at a time?”

  She nodded gratefully and he left the room.

  Elizabeth looked at her mother again. She would have to explain it to the children, plan a visit for tomorrow, call Dallas again. And find Felicia. Elizabeth had been preparing for this for weeks, but now that the time had come, she still wasn’t ready. There was so much to do, so much to say. And that was without her father’s revelations.

  Well, soon it wouldn’t matter. Elizabeth turned to leave when her mother called in a thin, weak voice, “Beth Ann? Did you finally come?”

  Elizabeth circled the bed to stare into her mother’s yellow face. Her blue eyes were nearly transparent, the whites an unnatural creamy color. “Finally? You’ve been fighting me all week.”

  “Not fighting you. Only the idea of seeing them. Can you sit with me? Just for a little while?” The hope lighting Mary Beth’s face was almost pitiable.

  The plea tugged at Elizabeth more than she wanted it to, though she had to wonder if her mother was really that weak. It just didn’t seem possible. Any minute now, Mary Beth would toss back the covers, put on her makeup, and be ready to party. “Just a little while. The kids need me home soon.”

  “Yeah. How are they?” Mary Beth loved her grandchildren. There was never a doubt about that.

  “They’re good. I’m bringing them tomorrow,” Elizabeth said firmly.

  “Beth—” Mary Beth drew her head back in a negative tilt.

  “There won’t be another chance, Mom. Give them one more hug.” Elizabeth spoke firmly, inflexibly. “See the little ones. Tell the older ones you love them.”

  “You know I don’t want them to see me like this.” Mary Beth pursed her lips in that irritated way she had.

  Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Why not? They watched you get like this.”

  Mary Beth huffed against the pillow, no longer seeming quite so weak and wasted. They’d had this argument many times over. The last one just two weeks ago.

  She’d always known it would happen sooner or later.

  After all, she’d brought home the pamphlets in the third grade, reading them out aloud cover to cover in a vain hope of convincing her mom to stop smoking. Such a wasted effort.

  She’d been so angry, said hateful horrible things in anger. Who can be perfect all the time? Mary Beth wasn’t faking and she wouldn’t recover. Suddenly the time was so short, and Elizabeth felt so tired. So unprepared. Very soon she wouldn’t have her mother. She’d be orphaned. The last twelve years suddenly didn’t seem like an oasis of peace. They seemed full of wasted opportunities. Maybe if she’d stayed, they could have grown to understand each other.

  Elizabeth had lived with her anger for so long, but there’d also been a strange hope that one day it would be better. Her mother would realize the damage she’d done, apologize, and change. Elizabeth could let go of her anger and bitterness. They could become the kind of mother and daughter she’d always dreamed of. But soon, that hope would be gone.

  Mary Beth opened her eyes and looked into Elizabeth’s. “Just one more hug. Okay?”

  Elizabeth smiled briefly, and reached out to squeeze her mom’s hand. This was more than she could’ve hoped for five minutes ago. “Okay.”

  Mary Beth stroked her thumb over the back of Elizabeth’s hand and closed her eyes. Elizabeth stayed, letting the touch connect them, for as long as she could.

  “What do you mean you can’t come home right now?” Elizabeth gripped the edge of the sink and stared through the window to the dusky backyard. She hadn’t planned to stay at the hospital nearly so long. But as she’d sat with her mom, hospice had come to talk to her about the specifics of dying. Would her mom be buried or cremated? Did she have an obituary planned? Did she know who would perform the funeral service?

  Elizabeth knew none of it. She’d been given the paperwork to think these things over weeks ago, but it had fallen through the cracks. Partially because she was busy, but equally because she hadn’t wanted to believe it was happening. It would be wasted effort when Mary Beth miraculously recovered and walked out of there. But today she’d had to take the time to see to all of it. Alex had been amazing, stepping in at home and freeing her to do what had to be done.

  The four adults she’d been embarrassed to see that morning had pulled together to keep the kids busy painting the hallway upstairs, allowing them the freedom to make it theirs. It was something she’d discussed with Alex a few nights ago, but today they’d made it happen. As a side benefit, they’d all been well supervised and kept safely inside, though Maeve seemed a distant, vague worry at the moment. Right now she had to convince her selfish bitch of a sister that no was not an option.

  “Dallas,” she said. But her sister started talking to someone in the background. A door shut and it was quiet on the phone line again. “Dallas, you don’t understand. This is it. She’s going to die.”

  “She’s been dying for months now, Beth Ann. Come on …” Her sister’s voice reached that annoying whine that scraped Elizabeth’s last nerve. “I’m so close to building something here. Just a few more days and,” her voice hushed, filled with unadulterated glee, “I think he’s going to propose.”

  Their mom had begun having tests months ago but there was such a lag between appointments and results. Mary Beth’s battle had lasted longer than three months but Dallas was talking like it was years.

  Elizabeth forced herself to silently, slowly exhale before speaking. “Dallas, I doubt Mom has a few more days.”

  There. Her voice was even. Calm. She was doing good.

  “Damn it, Beth. I just can’t. I know she’s dying, I’m sorry about that. I really am. But I can’t throw this away.” Dallas sighed. “She’d want this for me, Beth. You know she would. I’ll be able to come get the kids and bring them back here. John has family surrounding him, a huge house, and all the money he needs. This is for their future.”

  “Just come home for a day or two, say good-bye to Mom, hug the kids, attend the funeral.” Why should she have to bargain for this? Dallas knew this was important. She should have come here when Elizabeth had first called.

  “Yeah. Just a fe
w days. How long have you been there now? I can’t get trapped there. I’ll lose him. Things are at a critical stage.”

  Trapped? Half of these kids were hers! She belonged here with them, helping them cope with the death of their beloved grandmother. Elizabeth gripped the sink rim even tighter. “Then bring him, Dallas. If he’d let your mother die without letting you say good-bye, he’s not worth it anyway.”

  “Of course he’s not that way. It’s not Mom.” Dallas lowered her voice. “I haven’t told him about the kids. Not all of them, anyway. Just that my kids are staying with their grandma while I get a home set up for them. Besides, he thinks they’ll be happier there until we know where this is headed.”

  “Of course he does.” She sighed.

  “Don’t be such a bitch, Beth. Just ’cause you don’t want men, doesn’t mean the rest of us shouldn’t have them.”

  It was time to end the call before it disintegrated completely. “Bring him, don’t bring him, dump him in a river, whatever. Just get your ass here before Mom dies, Dallas.”

  Elizabeth hung up the phone and gripped the sink with both hands. Why was it so hard to convince her older sister to do the right thing? It should be common sense, but heaven forbid a member of her family have that. The sad truth was Dallas was the easiest call she had to make. Bobby would take awhile, demanding comfort for not being able to make it. And then there was Felicia.

  Footsteps halted behind her and she raised her gaze to meet Alex’s. He leaned a hip against the counter and stared back solemnly. “The kids are just about ready for you to see.”

  She looked into his somber hazel eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

  He crossed his arms as he watched her, his stance more relaxed than his gaze. “Bad news?”

  She shrugged. “Typical BS. Dallas doesn’t want to come home, even though her kids are here and Mom only has a few days left.”

  Elizabeth looked away. This was a side of her that she’d always wanted to keep secret from him, but it seemed pointless anymore. Maybe it was vain to worry about how her family’s dysfunction reflected on her, but she also feared that somehow, no matter how much she tried to avoid it, she was just as screwed up. And, no matter how she tried to eliminate or bury them, Alex would see her flaws.

  “This is another reason why I said no to prom, Alex. Why I left. I wanted away from all their drama. I didn’t want to be like them and I was afraid …” She inhaled, her words wobbling a bit. “Afraid that if I went with you, I’d never want to leave. I’d stay and I’d become exactly what I hated most.”

  Raising her burning eyes to him, she spoke with a hoarse voice. “But I don’t think I have a choice anymore. No matter what kind of person I become, no matter how I screw up, I have to stay. Because I’m all they have left.”

  She’d never had a relationship or kids of her own, knowing she’d probably ruin them. But now, she’d have to take on the biggest responsibility of her life. She couldn’t count on Dallas and Bobby and Felicia. It was her or foster care. Anxiety made her sick to her stomach. What the hell did she know about doing this long term?

  Alex reached for her, but Elizabeth flinched away from the compassion she read in his expression. She had to ask him for more. Use him again. As if he hadn’t done enough. But she’d already learned that rejecting his help would be a more horrible mistake than accepting it.

  Whatever was between them needed to be on hold for a bit. She was just so damn tired.

  “I need to ask you …” She looked down and away, wrapping her arms around herself. She could go by herself, but the last time she’d blithely gone to find Felicia, she’d found herself in a few perilous situations. She was damn lucky she hadn’t been hurt. Considering the responsibility she had now, it was crucial nothing happened to her. She looked back up at him.

  Alex’s eyes searched her face, watching her. Finally, he pulled her into his embrace, and gruffly said, “Just ask.”

  “Will you go with me to find Felicia?” She had to ask before just pulling him along with her.

  He tilted his head a fraction, his face oddly sad and vulnerable. “I’d go with you anywhere.”

  Elizabeth sighed and bit her lip. They still hadn’t had their talk yet. There hadn’t been a chance. And now the uncertainty over that tied her in knots. She shook her head. “Never mind. Where she’ll likely be is—”

  His hand on her arm silenced her and made her open her eyes. His look was grim and resolute. “I’m not stupid. I can guess what kind of place she’s at. And if you think I’d let you go alone, you’re dead wrong.”

  Her back went straight like a rod suddenly fused her spine. Her objection was instinctive. “It’s not for you to let me.”

  “No.” For once, he didn’t even smile. He was completely serious and his hazel eyes were dark with it. “I can’t stop you from going, but I can and will be right by your side.”

  It was that serious and determined side of him again, the one she wasn’t quite used to. The one, most likely, who kicked serious butt in martial arts. Finally, she nodded. “I’d rather wait until the kids are in bed before we go. Do you think Geoffrey will mind babysitting?”

  “Not at all.” Alex grinned, a mischievous glint lighting his eyes.

  Elizabeth narrowed her gaze in question, but he didn’t elaborate. She just shook her head and laid her cheek against his chest.

  Elizabeth hung up the phone. Call to Bobby—check. She set down the pencil and went to the next number on the list she and her mom had prepared. There weren’t many more family members to call, but the list of her friends was huge. She’d only called half before Bobby had called her, as per the nightly ritual they’d established in the last few weeks, but that half had been devastated to hear the news. No doubt the rest would be equally sad. As many problems as she’d had with her mom over the years, Mary Beth had been a great friend. Kind, caring, generous.

  Shelly clattered into the room, a frown on her face. Plopping a paint can, tray, and roller before her door, she gave Elizabeth a look. Elizabeth sighed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Alex said I had to paint my door.”

  Elizabeth gave the door a once-over. It was cracked and peeling and in such bad shape, it needed the work. “So?”

  “Whatever.” Shelly rolled her eyes and turned to her paint can, muttering loud enough to make sure Elizabeth overheard. “Not my house, I guess.”

  “I take it you don’t like the hallway?” Elizabeth asked. She hadn’t seen it yet. With her long absence earlier and the phone calls she was making tonight, they’d chosen to surprise her when they were done. “At least the kids seem happy. I can hear them laughing and carrying on from here. Besides, the hallway’s being repainted and they get to be a part of it. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Kevin’s painting big, furry black spiders in his mural and the toddlers scream and run every time they pass it.” Irritation made Shelly’s tone dry.

  Elizabeth grinned. “Which means they pass by every chance they get. I think they’re having fun with it. You should have fun, too.”

  Shelly shook her head and her dangling silver earrings swung side to side.

  “Those are pretty.”

  Shelly glared, defensive and ready to attack at the same time. “They were in a box. I figured they’d get more use if I wore them.”

  “Aunt Lizzie, we’re ready!” sang a chorus of voices from upstairs.

  Elizabeth shrugged, pushed her chair back from the table, and stood up, not really caring about the earrings. “They look good on you. I say enjoy them.”

  Shelly ducked her head to the paint pan and Elizabeth strode past her. She reached out to squeeze Shelly’s shoulder as she passed, but the teen shrugged away her touch. Elizabeth frowned, but tried not to let it bother her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The upstairs hallway was divided in half, with old wallpaper covering the top and providing a clear border to separate it from the bottom half. They’d remove it and paint it a creamy off-white c
olor when the kids were done. The bottom half had been stripped of its old scratched paneling and was now divided into seven clear sections. It used to be eight, but the twins had combined theirs.

  The kids had worked hard, allowed to draw whatever pictures they wanted. Small containers of vivid paints and various-sized brushes were scattered all over the dropcloth covering the floor. At one end of the hallway, Alex held Jessie’s green-painted hands to the bottom of her picture of multicolored spring flowers.

  “Dere’s me!” Jessie grinned and clapped her hands, spraying small specks of green everywhere.

  “There’s you,” Alex agreed. He tickled her by running a small paintbrush over her palms. “Now let’s write your name and age so we’ll always know who painted it.”

  Geoffrey knelt by Abby’s drawing, painting her hands bright blue. The twins were staring at her painting. David looked confused and Danielle was trying to look at it sideways, her neck bent almost in half.

  “I still say it’s a blob,” he said, his hands on his hips.

  “Not if you look at it like this,” Danielle insisted. “Then it’s a snowman on skis.”

  Elizabeth tilted her head and examined Abby’s painting. “I can see it. Good job, sweetie.”

  Abby grinned at her, then slapped her hands against the wall. Geoffrey labeled it and moved to help Sarah sign her house. In a circle around the house, from top to bottom, were stick figures of the whole family holding hands. Alex winked at Elizabeth as he passed her, taking Jessie and Abby to wash up. Elizabeth smiled and moved around the hall, checking out the paintings.

  David and Danielle’s were dark and vivid anime-style cartoons. Good guys battled monsters to save the captured woman in the background. The twins were actually very talented, which she’d known, but to see something they’d created with that talent was a near spiritual experience.

  Listening to Sarah explain to Geoffrey who each stick figure was and what she’d done to make it resemble the real person, Elizabeth strode over to Tommy’s picture. He’d drawn a very realistic nighttime vision of a campfire surrounded by old-style army tents and towering pine trees. Ten sets of bare feet, complete with tiny toes, peeked out from under the tent flaps.