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“Yes, ma’am,” I say, my throat tightening up from all the love pouring from every fiber of her being.
She is my second mother, who took over when my mom couldn't care for me properly. Since Kieran moved away, Korrine has been living next door, raising her three kids after a car accident that disabled her and took her husband's life.
Like us, this apartment was all she could afford at the time, and she’s never left. After my ma started her night jobs, I slept over at Korrine’s and became another family member. If it weren’t for her all these years, I never would have had big dreams or hope for the future. She pushed her kids and me to succeed when my mother was drowning in grief and financial woes.
She waves me off with a huff and a stern nod, disappearing into the depths of her apartment. With a snick of her lock, the lights turn out, and I head for my own. I suck in a breath, ready for my damn bubble bath and wine, but stop short when a small light shines through the open window. And when I walk inside, my heart fucking drops at the sight of her.
“Ma?” I question, setting my purse down on the kitchen counter. “You okay?” My brows furrow. She usually works until six in the morning and is never home at night.
My mom moves her dark brown hair over her shoulder, sighing, bringing a small glass to her trembling lips, and sets the cup down. Large, dark circles sit under her eyes, and my heart drops when her crystal blue eyes meet mine.
“Fell on stage,” she murmurs, kicking out her booted foot. “Broke my damn ankle.” Her eyes stay on the floor, observing the cast. “I lost my balance, the room spun, and I just…I fell, River.”
“Oh God, Ma. Are you okay? Need meds? Anything?” I take a tentative step forward, cautiously watching the silent tears run down her cheeks. She shakes her head.
“No, baby,” she murmurs, running her cold fingers up my arms and stopping at my shoulder. “Barry fired me.” When those words leave her lips, my entire body breaks out in a cold sweat.
“F-fired?” I gape. “He can’t just fire you because of a broken leg, dammit. You’ve worked with him for over fifteen years. You’re one of his best dancers. You…”
“Yeah, he can. He pays me under the table, Sugar.” She squeezes my shoulder with trembling fingers and loses her grip on me. She curses under her breath, reaching for her glass, but it slips between her fingers. Landing back on the counter, thankfully not shattering. Her long fingers run through her curled and primped hair, and a sob leaks from between her lips.
“Ma?” I whisper, swallowing hard. I can tell by her avoidance of eye contact; she’s hiding something from me. “What is it?”
She bites into her bottom lip. “I got Multiple Sclerosis, babe.”
“M.S.?” I scrunch my face, and she nods when the realization hits me, and dread fills every muscle in my body.
M.S. is something I've seen before in one of our bar patrons. He could walk one day, but then he started to stumble, and by the end, he was in a wheelchair. Last I saw, he had landed in a nursing home because he couldn't take care of himself anymore. He explained to me one day that it was an autoimmune disease that would never have a cure until he dies.
“I got diagnosed,” she takes a large breath, fiddling with her fingers on the counter, “seven years ago, and it’s only getting worse. I tried so hard to work through the symptoms and the flare-ups. But I can’t anymore. I hurt too much, and the club's heat makes it too hard to stand, walk, or think.”
I take a step back, gaping at my mother and her admission. Seven fucking years and I never noticed? I run my finger over my clenched jaw, and my chest heaves. All this time, I was so blind to my mother’s symptoms because I was a kid caught up in her own life. Shit.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had it? I could have helped. I could have done anything to make it easier on you!” I shout, throwing an arm out.
Inside my chest, my heart works overtime, banging against my ribs. My breaths come in short pants as I wrap my head around her confession.
When she looks up at me with her glossy eyes and another sob leaks from her lips, I close in on her, forgetting the anger brewing in my gut. Throwing my arms around her, I pull her into a much-needed hug, and she sags in my grip.
“You have always worked so hard, Riv. I don’t know what I did to get such a good kid like you, but you work harder than anyone I know. You got straight A’s, worked two jobs, and still managed to be home every night. I didn’t want to worry you, Kid. You’re my responsibility, and I already failed you once.” Every ounce of emotion I know she’s buried deep inside her comes to the surface as she sobs into my chest. “I failed you when I couldn’t keep your father around. I failed you when I couldn’t secure child support from the good-for-nothing Corbin West. I failed you when we had to move back to the middle of nowhere and raise you by myself.”
“It’ll be all right , Ma. I promise,” I murmur, running my fingers through her ratty hair. “We’ll get through this. We always do.”
Ma pulls back, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “See, Kid? This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re my baby. I’m supposed to rock you and tell you everything will be okay. But I can’t anymore.” She shakes her head, running a shaky hand through her hair.
“Okay, so Barry fired you. Can you get disability or unemployment? You have to be eligible for something that could help.” I breathe, sitting on the stool beside her, trying to think of a solution to our problems.
“No unemployment. It was cash under the table. I never had to claim a cent, so Barry wins this round. But Disability? Maybe,” she says, nodding her head. “Korrine will help me make it to the doctor tomorrow and drive me. I’ll have more answers tomorrow.” She gives me a sad smile and raises her good foot. She hobbles toward her beat-up recliner near the flat screen and sits down with a huff. Our only saving grace through all this is the medical card we've been on since our arrival. If it weren't for that, our medical bills would be through the roof.
“I’ll do some research, Ma. There must be something out there for you.” I swallow hard, brushing past her toward my bedroom at the end of the hall.
“Night, Kid. Get some rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow,” she whispers, blowing me a kiss, and I catch it with a small smile. “You’re my big college girl now. I’m so damn proud of you.”
“Night, Ma,” I say, waltzing into my bedroom with a sigh.
Not only do I have to try and come up with double the money we were making between my job and hers, but now I have to contend with a chronically ill mother, who will only get worse and worse. Then I’ll have to put her in a home or try to find a day nurse or…shit, I don’t know.
I rub a finger along my forehead and groan at the ceiling. So much for a warm bubble bath and some wine before bed. I have five hours before I must get up and open the store across town. Yay for responsibilities. Yay for being an adult. And yay for walking everywhere! Bessy was our only vehicle, and now….
