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Paisley
I LEAN TO peek into my mother’s bedroom and nearly jump out of my skin when her eyes snap open and meet mine.
My hand immediately goes to my racing heart. “You’re awake early.” I hurry into the dimly lit room. “Are you feeling okay?”
My mother gives me a weak smile. “As okay as I ever feel.” She struggles to sit up. “And I’m not the only one who’s up early.”
I move in close and help her straighten, carefully tucking the pillows behind her back so she can comfortably sit against the rickety headboard. “I have to work this morning.”
I’m not going to tell her that in order to be up early I would have had to go to bed, which I haven’t technically done. My trip to Andre’s ate into the three hours of sleep I planned on stealing before heading out to work at the other job he so graciously said he will allow me to keep after I move into his penthouse.
Not that I’m considering doing that. I can’t.
“Always working.” My mother reaches up, her bony fingers coming to rest against my cheek. “You’ve always been such a hard worker.”
“Thanks.” I fight to offer her a smile I don’t feel. “Are you hungry?”
I already know the answer to that. She’s never hungry. It’s one more battle I’ve had to fight, because if she doesn’t keep her strength up then she won’t be able to take part in the trial I’ve sacrificed everything to buy her way into.
Which I shouldn’t have had to do. She needs this drug more than any of the other people I saw in the waiting room wearing smiles as they found out they were accepted. All because they met some ridiculous set of standards.
“I’m okay, honey.” She pats my face with a gentle touch, like she did so many times when I was a little girl, back when she was the one taking care of me. “And if I get hungry I’ll go into the kitchen and make myself something to eat.”
We both know that won’t happen. My mother couldn’t stand long enough to prepare a meal even if she wanted to.
“I’ll just grab you a few things and bring them in here before I go.” I take her hand off my face and give it a little squeeze, a gentle gesture that almost feels like I’m crushing her bones together. “That way you don’t have to miss any of your shows.”
I pass her the remote to the secondhand television that’s the reason my cell phone bill went unpaid. “You want anything special?”
My mother’s head rests back against the headboard. Her once beautiful face now looks hollow and gaunt, but her eyes are just as warm and loving as ever when they meet mine. “I really am fine.”
She’s the farthest thing from fine I can imagine.
But her illness isn’t something we talk about, just like so many other things. “I know you are. I’m just already up.” I flash her a quick smile before ducking out into the cramped kitchen that is essentially a closet with a small fridge, tiny stove, and single-basin sink shoved into it. I pull out two of the premade shakes I keep on hand hoping they might help her put on a little of the weight she’s lost, continuing our conversation as I add them to the tray I deliver to her nightstand every morning. “Do you want me to bring you home anything from work?”
“I don’t see how they can schedule your shifts so close together.” The faint sound of the television mingles with her complaint. “How do they expect you to get any sleep?”
“We’re just short-staffed.” I add a sleeve of the crackers that settle her stomach and a can of Sprite to the tray, along with the lidded cup I filled with ice and water. “I’m sure it will get better once they hire some more people.” It’s easier to lie to her than it used to be. Maybe because I feel like all those lies are finally paying off. “Hopefully that will be soon.” I carry the tray into her room and carefully slide it into place. I pull the cordless phone from its base and set it right beside her. “Call the restaurant if you need me. Madison’s off today.”
My mother’s brows lift. “They don’t give Madison the same terrible shifts they give you?”
I reach out to adjust the cap protecting her mostly bald head. “Guess not.” I give her the same stern expression she’s used on me more times than I can count. “Drink all your water.”
My mother rolls her eyes. “Yes, boss.”
I pull at the blankets keeping her too-thin body warm, gently tucking them around her. “Call if you need me.”
“You already said that.” She reaches out to pat my hand. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
That’s the plan, and I’m so close to making it happen that I can taste it.
But I’m running out of time. In more ways than one.
I straighten up and give her setup one more go-over. I think I’ve done all I can do right now to make her comfortable. “I’m going to get moving then.” I point to the television as I back toward the door. “Don’t watch our shows without me.”
Cable is the one splurge I found room for in a budget that is so tight I’m nearly suffocating. The TV is the only thing my mother has to keep her company while I’m working, but it also provides us with a little bit of happiness to share.
A couple of nights each week I pile up next to her in bed and we watch a few shows together.
