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JOYCE
It’saweekafterthe carpet incident and I still can’t get the sight of Mr. Bardin cleaning on his hands and knees out of my mind.
I’m smiling to myself as I finish work. However, as I’m driving over to Long Island, where mom is hospitalized, I find it a little difficult to keep my smile in place. But I am determined to do so anyway for her sake.
Finding some comfort in the beautiful colors of the sunset, I still fight back tears, dreading the sight of her weakened state.
We discovered the cancer three years ago, already at an advanced stage. She remained stable for most of that time, but last year things took a turn for the worse, and I put my life on a temporary hold to take care of her.
Mom spends her days alone at the hospital, while my Aunt Gabby and I alternate her nights. Gabby and I both work, she as a grocery store manager. My twelve-year-old sister, Sophia, also visits a few times a week, but less often now that mom has been getting worse.
I don’t blame Sophia, and don’t force her to come along. She comes because she knows mom misses her.
I park my car in the parking lot and go inside the reception area, where I show my already battle worn visitor card. On the fifth floor is the oncology wing, and I head over there with sadness lying heavily on my shoulders.
As I wash my face and hands before going into mom’s room, I picture all my sorrow going away down the drain with the water — I will not make things worse by bringing my grief near her.
One last thing bothers me though: my empty hands. Mom can’t even have a sugar cookie, and she used to be so happy when I brought her things.
But it doesn’t matter. Soon she will be home, and I’ll find healthy ways to spoil her.
I knock on the door as a formality, and then open it to find mom, fully awake, accompanied by Gabby and Sophia. They appear to be having an animated conversation.
“We were just talking about you,Joy!” mom says in her soft voice. I smile at the nickname that only she uses. She’s used it since I was a little kid.
“I hope good things!” I retort, getting closer to hold her hand.
“How’s life working for the billionaires, J?” Sophia asks, standing by the room’s window.
“So glamorous, Sophia!” I say playfully.
“That boss of her sounds like he's right off the cover of a magazine,” Gabby says, “Cora, you need to hear what she says about him!”
Mom smiles and squeezes my hand lovingly.
“Tell me more, Joy,” she pleads.
“Ah, he’s very handsome, mom,” I say, shrugging, “Dark hair, blue eyes, a very nice body. You should see his arms…”
“Okay, but what’s his personality like?” mom asks.
“Well, not that great,” I shrug again, “He’s very stern and grumpy, impatient too. Sometimes I think he forgets about his little one!”
“What a creep,” Sophia says, so nonchalant as she looks at her nails.
I startle at her words. “Sophia!”
“What! A guy who forgets his own daughterisa creep!” Sophia shrugs, offended.
“He’s just very overworked, Sophia!”
“Maybe she likes him as more than a boss,” Gabby says, tapping Sophia’s shoulder with a knowing look.
“Do you?” my little sister asks.
The two watch me with sly stares, daring me to deny it.
All of us know that nothing with him could ever actually happen, but I don’t mind giving them a little drama if that’s what they are looking for. “I like someone, but it’s not him!” and I shrug for good measure as I let the little lie out.
