I missed him all ready and it had only been a matter of hours.
I wanted to hear his voice more than just about anything. But I needed to get to my mom.
I had to call my office in a few hours. I had left a message with Mr. Richardson before I had boarded the plane at Heathrow, letting him know I was called away by a family emergency. But once I had a handle on my mother’s condition I would need to call him again and talk about how long I could take off. I wasn’t even sure about sick leave and whether that covered family illness. I was absolutely clueless.
My head was in turmoil. I was exhausted. My eyes burned from lack of sleep. And now I had to drive an hour and a half to the hospital.
I blasted the radio and rolled down the windows to stay awake. It was unseasonably warm for October. The air was thick and it smelled like rain. But the wind in my face kept me from dozing off behind the wheel.
Maybe it was the fact I was slightly delirious, but the drive went relatively fast. There was little traffic on the road that time at night so I made it to the hospital around twelve-thirty.
I headed towards reception and the lady behind the desk directed me to the third floor. My mother was in room 312. Intensive care.
I felt as if were walking in molasses. I felt slow and heavy. Scared to see her. My mother dying had always been my greatest fear. She was all I had, having never known my father, and extended family being all but non-existent. I would have nightmares as a child about her funeral. The school counselor said the dreams were stemmed from anxiety. No duh.
The hospital was still buzzing with activity. People rushing down the halls. Patients being wheeled around in their beds. Nurses hurrying to tend to those that needed them. I could hear a woman crying, her sobs muffled by the walls.
A nurse stopped me as I made my way to my mother’s room. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see my mother. She’s in room 312.”
The nurse frowned, her face severe. “Visiting hours ended at seven.”
“I know, but I’m hoping you’ll make an exception. I’m Ms. Carter’s daughter. I just flew in from England. I came straight from the airport. Can I please see her?” I would beg if I had to.
The nurse must have seen the tired desperation in my eyes because she waved me on without putting up much of a fight.
I found my mother’s room and hesitated before going in.
I didn’t want to see what waited for me.
But I had to. She needed me.
Mom was fast asleep. She was connected to a dozen monitors that beeped steadily. She looked so small. Her face ashen; her arm was black and blue from where they had tried to insert an IV multiple times.
And she was alone.
No one sat by her bed.
She had been all by herself.
I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle a sob.
I sank down in the chair beside her and picked up her cold, limp hand. I recoiled at the feel of her skin. Then I berated myself.
She’s my mother.Stop being such a coward.
Griping her hand tightly, my eyes started to droop and the next thing I knew I was asleep.
“MORGAN?”
My mother’s raspy voice woke me up out of a deep sleep.
I sat up and wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth. “You’re awake!” I exclaimed. My tiredness was gone in an instant at the sight of her lucidness.
“What are you doing here?” my mother asked, seeming confused.
“Lisa called me,” I told her.
