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“I…I just…”
My son—where was he?
Bethany brought Leo to me. I scooped him into my arms, hugging him so hard that he begged me to put him down. He reached for Galanthia next, unabashedly burrowing his face into her neck while Bethany tugged on my arm.
“…two seconds, I swear, Xavier. I’m so sorry. I left the roomfor two secondsand she cried out. And Leo yelled. And I just…”
I caught Bethany before she could spiral out. “Beth, get a hold of yourself. It’s alright now.”
“I should be telling you that.” Her eyes fearfully slid over to Leo. “I should be telling you both that, but I can’t stop crying.”
Anguish contorted her features as more tears came. I had never hugged Bethany. I had barely touched her. But I couldn’t let her go down like this. I couldn’t allow her to suffer when we were all supposed to be here together. My rejection was enough of a blow to her, even if she wasn’t letting me see how much it hurt.
I rubbed her back. “It’s going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay.”
Etta wavered somewhere on the edge of my awareness. My vision kept warbling, kind of like a dream, and then reality would snap right back into place with such striking clarity that I thought I was losing my mind. The only thing grounding me right now was this hug.
Something touched my back and I jumped. Galanthia put distance between us and whispered, “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” I released Bethany and took Galanthia’s hand. “We should see her.”
Bethany opened her arms to take Leo. For a second, it seemed he had fallen asleep, but really he was just tired from crying and worrying. My poor boy was totally drained, and he refused to leave Galanthia’s arms. I wasn’t going to argue with him. As much as I didn’t want him to see his grandmother in her condition, I knew it was important for him to be with Galanthia.
He had been asking for her all week. Now that he had her, I wasn’t going to tear her away. Never again would I make him suffer.
Troubled steps carried me down the hallway. Etta was talking. She was using medical terminology. She was saying things like “We’ve made her comfortable,” and “There’s not much else we can do.”
Those were softened blows. Those were empty assurances.
Nothing was going to help my mother. Life had a way of doing that, didn’t it? Life could be a real dick sometimes, and just when life was about to get better. Which one would win out? Would my mother die, or would I get to be with Galanthia?
It seemed like one of those things was destined to happen.
I stepped into the room. I closed my eyes.
Not yet. I didn’t want to see her losing her battle just yet. I wanted to remember what her smile was like when she was making jokes and telling me about her strawberries. I wanted to retain the quality of her laugh before it became a weak croak. I wanted nothing more than to preserve her in my mind as the picture of strength and glory, her singing voice intact and her fingers tickling the ivory.
Heaven forbade me this desire. When I opened my eyes, I saw the husk of my mother on her bed. I saw the IV tubes and the machines. I saw the brittle hair framing her face and the pallid texture of her skin. Autumn came as a season, and it was my mother dying in her bed. Winter would soon break into the room.
I could feel its approaching chill.
Galanthia touched my back and guided me to the bed. She placed my hand on my mother’s hand. She placed her hand over mine.
The corners of my mouth twitched violently. “Fuck.”
Mom cracked her eyes open and rasped, “Language.”
There was still a fight in her yet. “Sorry. I should have come sooner. I should have stayed.”
A twinkle. A small smile. A weak breath. “Oh, you’ve finally found your mate.”
Galanthia bent to place a gentle kiss on Mom’s forehead. “Yes, we’ve found each other. I’m sorry it took us so long, Claire.”
“You’ll be happy now.”
No one moved as Mom turned her hand so our palms were touching.
“I can die happy knowing you’re taken care of, finally.”
