Page 54 of Relapse

When I crossed the threshold, the first thing I noticed was the silence.

The room that had once been loud with the constant rhythm of beeping monitors, the mechanical sighing of the ventilator, the soft shuffle of nurses adjusting wires and checking screens, had now fallen still. The machines that had filled every corner with noise and urgency were quiet now. No more steady pulse echoing through empty hallways. No more sharp alarms slicing through the air.

Just an unbearable silence.

I stared at the bed. My mom was still. No more shuddering breaths, no more heavy collapsing of her chest. Just stillness. Her mouth was still partially open, frozen.

“No,” I mumbled, more so to myself than to anyone else. It really couldn’t have been that quick…could it?

A nurse stepped closer. I think she said my name first, but it took a moment for the sound to reach me.

“Ms. Marsh. We are so very sorry for your loss, your mom took her last breath a few minutes ago. We came as soon as the alarms in the room sounded, but you had just stepped out.”

Chelsea let out a sharp gasp and her fingers clamped around my arm so tightly it almost hurt. She stumbled some, and I tensed my arm for her to brace on.

“Oh no, Delane. D-Delane, I’m sorry.”

Her voice cracked. I didn’t need to look at her to see that tears were streaming down her face. My mom was dead, but here I was, holding Chelsea up from falling, comforting and supporting her in my own stunned shock.

She had to have blamed herself. My hand moved on its own, steadying her elbow, guiding her backward. I barely remembered deciding to move, but suddenly we were at the chair the nurses had originally ushered us to. I lowered us into it carefully.

Chelsea buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed. I wrapped my arms around her.

The nurses were still talking, but I couldn’t really hear what they were saying anymore. Their mouths moved, but the words drifted through the room like distilling clouds broken throughout the sky.

“…very common… take as much time as you need…”

“...the chaplain…”

“…hospital policy…”

I nodded at the right moments. Or at least I thought I did.

“Typically, the hospital allows the body to stay for just a few hours before being picked up. So that you can say your final goodbyes.”

Everything felt muted. Cotton seemed packed into the air, into my ears, hindering my connection.

My eyes drifted back to the bed, to my mom’s thin shape under the blanket.

“I already have the funeral home picked out,” I said abruptly.

The nurse paused.

Chelsea’s crying faltered against my shoulder.

“I’m getting her and my dad a double stone,” I continued, nodding slightly to myself.

That seemed practical. Organized. This is what Delane would do. This is what a good daughter would do.

The nurse said something else, but I really wasn’t listening anymore. Not even to the broken bits and pieces of her advice.

I kept looking at the bed. Waiting for my mom’s chest to move again.

Because it had to.

It always did.

Maybe if I waited long enough… maybe everyone else would realize they’d made a terrible mistake.