“Yes.”
“Because when I left the hospital late last night—” She checked the time on the alarm clock by the bed. “Really, only four hours ago, she was fine and—and...”
The doctor sighed heavily again. “I know this is a huge shock, but when it comes to sepsis… things move fast. We tried everything, but a blood clot is one of those things that can happen without warning. Like I said, it was in her brain. I think her body was so weakened from the infections that she—”
“She wasn’t that weak,” Sasha said with a defensive tone. Her face reddened with anger while tears blurred in her eyes once more, rage warring against grief. “She—she seemed to be getting better to me!” Sasha trembled, she wasn’t even sure who she was yelling at—the doctor, her mother, or herself. Regardless, it felt good to raise her voice, to release the storm of emotions inside. “My mom is a fighter! Don’t you get it?!! She’sbeen through way worse than this and she’s the strongest person I know! I’m telling you, you’re wrong.”
The doctor took a beat before responding, his words wavering when he spoke once more. “I’m very sorry Miss Sommers, really, but unfortunately it was your mother. We always triple check paperwork and charts before we call someone like this. That said, I know this is a lot to process. Everyone has their own way of grieving, but you’re welcome to come and say your goodbyes.”
Goodbye?The word sounded foreign to her. What was the point of saying goodbye to someone who couldn’t possibly be gone?
“While you’re here,” the doctor went on, “you can speak with our staff about what sort of service you think your mother would like. We can hold onto her for a while, but they’ll go over all of that when you’re ready.”
Sasha shook her head. He had to be wrong. Not only was she unable to accept the fact that her mother was gone, but how could she give her the kind of service she deserved? She was barely making ends meet, and her mom had only a couple people in her life she might’ve called friends.
“She has to be buried in the Ferndale Cemetery," Sasha blurted out. It was the only thing that came to mind. “That’s where my grandma’s buried.”
“Okay, then,” he said, “I’ll write that down. Anything else we should know? Are there any religious or spiritual practices that require us to do anything with her body? She’s covered with a sheet, but—”
“That’s fine,” Sasha said, her voice hollow. The thought of her mother lying lifeless under a sheet was enough to make her sick. “That’s—I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She forced herself onto her unsteady legs, her hands feeling tingly and numb. “Thank you.”
“Ask for me at the front desk,” the doctor said. “I’ll be here to speak with you whenever you arrive.”
Although she still wondered if the doctor had made a mistake, she was strangely comforted that he would be there waiting for her. He had been kind and patient over the phone, so he’d likely be very apologetic once he realized that he’d confused her mother with another patient.
*
The doctor wasn’t wrong.
When the crisp white sheet was removed, Sasha saw her mother’s pale face—her body was still and peaceful, like she was just catching up on rest so she could get back to work next week. But the eerie silence told her otherwise.
“Take all the time you need,” the doctor said, stepping out of the room. “I’ll get you the list of contacts for the funeral homes we’ve worked with previously. But of course, if you have someone else in mind, you can make whatever calls necessary.”
Sasha only nodded, unsure what to say at that moment. Once he left and the door was shut behind him, she slowly approached the bed and took one of her mother’s hands. Her fingers weren’t stiff yet, so Sasha was able to curl them around her own hand a bit. A fragile smile formed on her lips and tears welled in her eyes—she finally let herself cry.
*
Two months later, Sasha stood at her mother’s grave. Holding onto her slightly protruding belly, she sniffled as a cold gust of wind rushed by.
To get a plot next to her grandmother, Sasha had spent practically every cent in both her and Maggie’s bank accounts—but she was glad she did it. Her mom never had much down timewhen she was alive, so Sasha really wanted Maggie to be laid to rest in a place she felt safe, next to one of the most important people in her life. She deserved it.
Truthfully, her mother deserved a lot of things she didn’t get in life—a stable living situation, a well-paying job, and help to raise her child. Maggie deserved to sleep in a warm bed on winter nights and always have enough to eat. She deserved real birthday parties and a working water heater. The list was endless, but Sasha refused to think about it—it was too heavy, and her mother’s loss already weighed too heavily on her shoulders.
Ever since the funeral, she visited the grave every day, but this was the last morning she would be able to visit Ferndale for a while.
“I got a temporary job,” Sasha said to the pile of dirt in front of the gravestone. The grass was starting to grow over it a little bit, but it still had a long way to go. “A couple towns over. I’ll be working as a maid at a motel, but the good news is it comes with a free room. They’ve guaranteed me six months of work, which means I’ll be bringing in money until the baby comes. Without having to pay rent, I’m hoping to save up and get a place in Ferndale after I give birth.”
A faint smile formed on her lips, and she drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention—I’ll be coming back here once I have the baby and I’m back on my feet.”
Sasha rocked back on her heels, half expecting to hear her mother’s voice asking her why she’d bother coming back to Ferndale if she’d found a job somewhere else.
Good jobs don’t grow on trees,her mother used to say.
But all was quiet.
“I found him, Mom,” Sasha went on. “David Ward. Dad.” Another gust of wind whipped past her. “I don’t have a ton of information, but I’m positive it’s him. I haven’t decided how I’mgonna approach him yet, but I don’t want to go to his doorstep like a beggar, you know? I want him to see that I didn’t need a dad in my life at all. Sure, would it have been nice? Does it sting to think that he was over here in Ferndale living in a big house and raising his other kids, while we were eating day-old bread from the dumpster? Obviously. But I suppose he was never given the chance to be there for me.”
She wiped a few rogue tears from her cheeks.
