He felt Mallory give his thigh a supportive squeeze which reminded him it was his turn to speak. “When can she come home?”
“Well,” the doctor hesitated. “I’m not the physician in charge, but I would suggest she go to a rehab facility for a while.”
“I’m not putting my mom in a nursing home.”
“Not a nursing home. A facility that will offer her the care as well as the physical therapy she needs. Once she’s situated in her room, you’ll be able to see her, and a social worker can come up and explain your options once she’s awake.”
With that, the doctor gave him a quick pat on the shoulder and then turned to leave. He was supposed to make a major decision about his mother all on his own. He ran his hands through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do. The thought of his mom in a nursing home gave him a cold chill he couldn’t seem to shake.
“Call your brother,” Mallory suggested. “You’ll feel better if you run it by him. You don’t need to carry this by yourself.”
“I’d rather call him after I see her. He’s not going to want to know what the doctor’s said as much as he’ll want to know how she’s feeling.”
Mallory put her arm around him and rubbed his back. Her warm touch was the soothing contact he needed. She had managed to become more important to him than any woman had in years, and yet he was keeping things from her that she may never forgive him for. He needed to tell her, and soon. If he continued to wait, he knew the line between not saying anything and purposely withholding information would be crossed.
“I need to call more than just my brother,” he said after a long sigh.
Mallory watched him warily, as if she could tell whatever was about to come next wasn’t going to be easy to hear. Her brow was creased with worry, and her blue eyes watched him carefully. Her arm went still behind his back, but she rubbed his thigh with her other hand.
“What is it?” she asked when the silence grew longer than was comfortable.
“I have to call my daughter and tell her about herabuela.”
Mallory flinched. She removed her hands from his body and squinted as a mixture of hurt and confusion crossed her features. “You have a daughter?”
“She’s thirteen and the reason behind my tattoo. Her name is Liliana. Lily for short.”
Chris sat still as Mallory stood and began pacing the room. He felt like shit dropping the news on her the way he did, but if things were serious enough that she was sitting with him in the hospital waiting room, he couldn’t keep things from her.
“She lives in Florida with her mom. My ex-wife.” He closed his eyes for the last part, unable to watch her reaction.
“Jesus, Christian,” she said, releasing her hair from her ponytail. “I know we’ve only seen each other a few times, but I would think an ex-wife and a daughter would be something you mention in the beginning.”
Chris stood and closed the distance between them. With both hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “I wasn’t keeping it from you, I swear. I wanted to tell you when you asked about the tattoo, but it I didn’t want to have that conversation with my mom right there.”
“But you were okay kissing me with your mom right there.”
He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to come up with a way to explain things. “I’ve never had to have this conversation before, I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean? Oh my God, you aren’t still married, are you?” She twirled the ponytail holder around her fingers as she waited for him to explain.
“No. Of course not. We’ve been divorced for nearly ten years. I just haven’t been serious with anyone since. You probably would have met her at my mom’s house if Vivian hadn’t moved her to Florida.”
He stopped talking and attempted to gauge her reaction. She hadn’t left, so that was a good sign. Chris imagined her mentally reciting something about accepting peace as he watched her take several slow breaths. She opened her eyes and folded her arms, obviously waiting for him to go on.
“I’m not some dead-beat-dad. We shared custody until she moved. Now I get her a few weeks over the summer andevery other holiday. Like I said, I’ve never needed to have this conversation before. I’m sorry I’m screwing this up. I’m worried about my mom and I’m going to have to break the news to my daughter that she won’t be able to come here this summer because my mom can’t watch her while I work,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “And I have to tell her that Mom had surgery. Everything is fucked up.”
Mallory put her arms around him and held him tight. Once again, her firm hold instantly calmed him down. He assumed she knew from experience how to calm someone down who felt like everything was falling apart, because she knew what to do without him saying a word. She did things that he wouldn’t even know to ask for. As a person who seemed to crave closeness, he wondered how she managed to be without her family.
“Mr. Ramirez?” a nurse called from the doorway. “I’ll take you to your mother’s room.”
They followed the nurse down the long corridor and around the corner past a nurses’ station before stopping in front of a room. “She’s sleeping, but we got her to wake up and respond to us before bringing her to her room. She should be waking up again soon. Are you both family?”
“Yes,” Chris answered without hesitation. He knew the truth would keep Mallory from being able to stay with him.
“Well, you are welcome to sit with her. Visiting hours end at nine. Feel free to talk. Hearing your voice might help her to come the rest of the way out of the anesthesia quicker.”
He took Mallory’s hand, and they sat in the only two chairs in the room. His mom looked comfortable despite the oxygen going to her nose and everything she was connected to that monitored her vital signs. He was relieved to see her breathing on her own. He released Mallory’s hand and moved his chair close enough to hold his mom’s fragile hand in both of his.
