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I nod, wrapping an arm around Amelia as she comes back to me.
“I’m coming too,” Mackie says, and the four of us make our way outside.
I guide Amelia to the car and into the backseat, running my fingers through her hair as she leans against me. She’s got a death grip on my hand, and she can’t stop crying.
“I’m not ready for this,” she mutters.
“I know,” I whisper back. “But all we can do now is face it. Together.” I recall the words she said to me when Rae was in the hospital this time last year.
Looking up at me, Amelia nods. “Together.”
She lets out a shaky breath, and I hold her closer, absolutely terrified, and praying this isn’t the moment Amelia loses her mom.
Amelia
I’m in a haze. When my mom had that minor stroke, I barely kept it together. Knowing this may have been a major stroke? The thing that could take her from me? I’m catatonic.
In the past, I would’ve drawn strength from places I didn’t know it resided and put on some armor. I can’t do that anymore. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be strong right now. I want to be as broken as I feel.
Miles hasn’t let go of me since we left the farmhouse. We’re almost to the hospital now, and his hold tightens. I could face this alone or with Dani, but I wouldn’t be able to face it the way I need to without him. He keeps me safe, so I don’t have to worry about the rest of the world. I can feel everything I need to feel.
Dani pulls into a parking space, and Miles helps me out of the car. Again, he wraps an arm around my back, tucking me against his side and walking with me.
He kisses my head and whispers, “I’ve got you, baby.”
I fist his shirt and force a breath. I can do this.
Katie meets us at the door to the ER. Shortly before Emmie was born, I updated all my mother’s medical information so that medical information can be given to Miles or Katie, and I made Katie her backup healthcare proxy. I figured if I was unavailable for any reason, Miles likely would be too, so it was best to have someone else, and I know Katie understands the responsibility. And she loves my mom. Somehow, she met my mother in the worst season of her life and found love for her regardless.
“I’ve already spoken with a nurse,” she says, leading us inside. “They said it was an ischemic stroke, and they’re administering thrombolytics to help with the clots. They’ll be out to update us as soon as they can.” She takes charge, leading us through the ER to another waiting room down the hall.
I don’t even know when Miles texted Katie, but she got here before us and took charge. God, it’s nice to not be the adultiest adult in the room. That was one of the worst things about handling my mom’s Alzheimer’s alone. I had to make all the decisions. Social workers can help, but I didn’t have anyone to bounce ideas off.
The five of us sit down, and we wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I hate waiting.
At least I’m not pregnant this time. Waiting room chairs are extra uncomfortable when you’re carrying another human.
Pulling my phone out, I text Rae.
Me: How’s Emmie? Thank you for taking her.
Three dots appear immediately.
Rae: She’s all good. We’re hanging out in the nursery. I need one of these chairs.
Another message comes through, this time a photo of Aaron lying on the floor with Emmie as she plays.
Rae: She’s obsessed with Uncle Aaron. How’s your mom?
Me: Don’t know yet.
Rae: We’ve got Emmie as long as you need. Love you.
