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“Kate. Hey, it’s Derek. I’m sorry to call you under these circumstances, but I was called to a disturbance in Lake Mead.”
His voice is shaky, and my stomach bottoms out. I lower myself to my chair, my hands gripping the arm.
“L-Lake Mead?” An unsettling knot of unease twists in my gut.
“It’s your mom, Kate.”
My breath hitches, and I panic. I’m sorting through, trying to figure out the last time I talked to her. Did she sound okay? She sounded fine. Is she hurt? Is she—?
Oh god!
“She’s at the Lake Mead Cemetery. She is inebriated and has been causing a scene with the maintenance personnel. Local police were called in, and a buddy of mine was able to pass it on to me at my precinct. I’m here now, but we are having a hard time talking with her and getting her to leave. We wanted to give you a courtesy call; we may have to take her to the station, Kate.”
“Wait—” I bend my neck to hold the phone to my ear with my shoulder and pat around my desk for my purse. “Derek, I’m on my way.”
“I gotta go,” I say to Natallia, and run toward the elevator.
I call Ivan, another name thankfully programmed into my phone. “Ivan, can you pick me up at the office?”
“Da.”
Relief washes over me, and I lean against the back of the elevator, the cool metal soothing my heated skin. I recall Derek’s words.She is inebriated. We may have to take her to the station.
No.
A ding brings me back to the present, and I dart out, slipping on the slick floor and running out of the building. Ivan is standing at the rear car door, having already opened it for me.
“Lake Mead Cemetery please, Ivan,” I say, panic lacing my voice. I slide in, and he shuts the door.
I take a few steadying mouthfuls of air, guilt eating at me. I thought she was doing okay with therapy. I thought she was doing better.
The ride is agonizingly slow, although Ivan is driving as fast as he can. I catch him glancing at me in the mirror several times, and I try not to think that I hijacked Luka’s driver for my personal use. Ivan was available for me; no questions asked. Their loyalty to Luka, extends to me, and I’m not alone.
Ivan pulls into the cemetery forty minutes later, and his eyes go wide at the police presence, but he doesn’t say anything. He parks, and I bolt out of the car. The shock of where I am, hinders my ability to move forward.
“I’m sorry,ma’am. Your husband has suffered a major heart attack. We were unable to revive him.” The ER doctor hangs his head.
I’m sitting in the waiting room, the hospital brimming with people waiting, nurses running, and doctors smiling, but it all seems to slow as I take in those words. I tuck my hands under my thighs as tears prickle behind my eyes.
“What do you mean you are unable to revive him?” My mom’s voice booms in the waiting room. “You need to go back in there; you need to help him! Help him!” Her sobs echo off the walls, and the hospital even as large as this, becomes claustrophobic.
“Please!” She tries to push through the doctor, and he holds her shoulders.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. We’ve done all we can.”
“No. No!” Her fists pound the doctor’s chest, before he steps back and she collapses. Her crying is uncontrollable as she slumps to the floor. Several nurses approach her to rub her back and try to coax her up. “My love,” she wails. “Come back, please!”
An ache in my chest hurts, and it feels like I’m dying. Several tears escape as I watch the scene unfold. I look up from my mother on the floor, the room blurry with my welled-up eyes, and my gaze meets the doctor’s. His face is apologetic, and empathy shines brightly in his eyes. Several more tears fall down my face.
“Daddy …” I whisper, and the dam breaks.
I takein the solemn Lake Mead Cemetery, nestled between towering trees, the air soft and reverent. I approach the iron gates and follow the path to where a couple of officers are standing with Derek. The gravestones stand tall, with inscriptions telling of all the love and loss. A soft breeze rustles through the leaves and several take flight, slowly falling to the ground. In the distance, a small, secluded alcoveall toofamiliar appears. I see two other officers talking to a woman, her hands fluttering in the air.
Mom.
“Kate.” Derek’s voice is calm and quiet. “These are Officers Dale and George. They were the ones originally called in.”
Both men nod at me and spend two minutes catching me up to speed about what happened. The graveyard maintenance came in early this morning and found my mother lying on my father’s grave. They approached her to make sure she was okay, but she was belligerent, throwing bottles at headstones and refusing to leave.
