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Thankfully, there are signs for the room numbers, so I head in the direction of Audrey’s room. When directly outside, I take a peek and recognize the lightly tinted brown of Audrey’s hair billowing over her pillow, her eyes shut and a breathing tube in her mouth. By her side is a middle-aged looking lady with silver-blond hair who I believe is her mother, talking softly to her as she holds her hand. Briefly, I wonder if I should knock and interrupt the moment, but then I don’t have to when—as if sensing I am there—she glances up my way with a frown.
I take that as my cue to come in and immediately, she is on her feet.
“My apologies for disturbing you. I take it you are Audrey’s mother?” I offer her my hand with the most reassuring smile I can muster.
A little wary, she rounds the bed and takes my hand. “Yes, I’m Emma Stone. And you are?”
“Eli.” There’s a quick shake of the hands and then an awkward moment where I know she must be itching to ask me questions, so I attempt to answer them for her.
“I hope you don’t mind me visiting, but I met Audrey in her café on her birthday and although we only spoke for around five minutes, I was compelled to visit her again. When I heard she was in hospital, I wanted to come visit.” Her concerned frown worries me. “I’m not a stalker or anything. It’s just…” Oh, boy, now I’m rambling. The more I bumble the words out, the worse it makes me look. “Sorry, I’m not making this any easier, am I? Now you probably think I’m some lunatic with a fixation on your daughter.”
She actually laughs at that, causing me to relax my shoulders with ease. I didn’t even realize I was tensing them, I’m so uptight.
“It’s okay,” she finally says, narrowing her eyes at me as if trying to figure me out. “Funnily enough, you look familiar. Have you only been in the café that one time before now?” I’m about to answer when something dawns on her. She gasps, pointing a finger at me. “You’re not...?” She then shakes her head. “No, you can’t be.” She steps closer, squinting as she studies my face. “Wow, you look a lot like him, though. And your name is Eli too? What are the odds?”
“Well, none in my case.”
She pauses a moment, thinking about what I said. “What do you mean?”
Wondering if the day I met her was ever brought up, I ask, “Did Audrey not tell you she met me on her birthday? I gave her a VIP ticket to the after party of my movie launch.”
Taking a step back, she gasps again. “Noooo… it’s really you?”
“Yes,” I reply, laughing at her uncertainty.
She takes a few steps forward, placing her hands on my face as she studies me. A strange, intimate moment, but surprisingly comforting.
“Wow, it really is you.” She takes her hands away, frowning. “You came all this way just to visit my Audrey?” Tears begin to well in her eyes as I smile softly.
“I noted that she never came to the after party, and considering I was in town again, I thought I would stop by and see her. Victoria mentioned that she was a big fan, so I was a little disappointed when she never turned up.”
Glancing down, sadness overcomes her before she eventually glances back at Audrey.
“She was so looking forward to seeing you as well.” She stops talking a moment, but I sense she wants to say more, so I stay silent. “She was so excited that night… the happiest I had seen her since… well, since her dad was alive. The evening went so well, the food great, the conversation flowing. We got her a cake, and she made a wish before blowing out her candles. It was one of those picture-perfect moments that I’ve cemented to memory. I had always been proud of my daughter, but in that moment, even more so. It was just like a burst of pride came over me. It’s hard to explain.” She chuckles a little, glancing my way with tears in her eyes.
“No, it’s fine. I totally get it.”
“She always worried me, though.” She flits her eyes back at her daughter.
“In what sense?” I ask, somehow needing to know more.
“The café was… is her life. She’s barely twenty-one, and yet she lives and breathes that place. Everyone has said that she works way too hard, but she never listened. I was so anxious about it that I thought one day she would end up in hospital from exhaustion. I never in a million years thought that it would be a car hitting her that would do it.”
Noting the tear falling down her face, I step forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “She’s young, Mrs. Stone. If she can survive a button, she can survive this.”
She pats my hand back, laughing. “You know about the buttons?”
“It was one of the many things we talked about… including your husband.”
She closes her eyes, another tear falling as she lets out a huge sigh. “I lost my husband and haven’t been the same since. If I lose her… I…”
Squeezing her shoulder, I stop her from saying anything further. “Don’t let your mind go there, Mrs. Stone. Your daughter is a fighter. She’ll make it. I know she will.”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I inwardly shake my head. The number of times I hear people in movies telling people that they promise they won’t die, or they promise they will make it home safely, and it always makes me angry. How can anyone promise something like that? I can’t tell Audrey’s mother with a certainty that her daughter will live, but despite that, the words still come out of my mouth just as boldly as stating that water is wet.
“You’re very kind,” she replies, patting my hand again “And, please… call me Emma.” She then moves around the bed and sits down to take Audrey’s small, delicate hand.
My eyes move from her and follow a long line of photographs on the windowsill. Intrigued, I move closer, glancing at the many photos of Audrey with her mother and father, and also a couple of the café and the people I recognize that work there—including Victoria. One photo in particular draws my attention, so I pick it up to inspect it. A very young girl of around eleven or twelve at the most, with the familiar light brown tint of her hair and amazing deep blue eyes, stares back at the camera, beaming like she’s the happiest girl on earth. Right next to her is a very tall gentleman, blue cap, sunglasses, his arm around her tightly, a big lake the backdrop behind them. There’s no mistaking that the young girl is Audrey, and I assume the man next to her is her father. A small boat is clearly visible in the corner of the photo and in Audrey’s hand is a fish that looks almost as big as she is.
