Dr. Hudson stood up and went to the front desk, grabbing a business card and a pen before sitting down again to join me. “This phone number will also be on your paperwork,” he said. “But this is the infusion center. Call them to set up appointments for Susan.”
I took the card from him, hands trembling to such a degree that I almost couldn’t face him in embarrassment. But then Dr. Hudson rested his hand on top of mine kindly. “I can tell she’s happy you’re here,” he said. “And so am I. With your support, I think she can beat this.”
I nodded but said nothing to this, instead glancing down at the card I was playing with between my fingers. “Is she awake?” I asked. “Can I see her?”
“She should be waking soon,” Dr. Hudson said, getting to his feet and offering me a hand to do the same. “You are welcome in there to see. Just give the infusion center a call first thing tomorrow morning. The sooner the better.”
With a nod and shaky legs, I followed Dr. Hudson out of the waiting-room and through some doors, back to the patient rooms. We stopped in front of my mother’s closed door and he knocked before stepping in. I took a deep breath before following him in, unsure of what to expect.
“Mom,” I breathed, stepping around the doctor to go automatically to her bedside. A nurse was there changing an IV bag, and she smiled at me reassuringly.
“Susan is a tough cookie,” she said. “You must be Peyton. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Melissa.”
“Hi, Melissa,” I said, focusing on my mother’s pale complexion. “Thank you for being there for my mother when I couldn’t be.”
“It’s what we do.”
“How is she?” I asked. Melissa glanced at Dr. Hudson, who walked forward to join our side, checking the patient chart as he did so. My mom’s eyes were still closed, but her breathing was regular, and I figured that was more important than anything else.
“She should be waking up soon,” Melissa said. “Less than an hour is our hope. Vitals look good.”
Dr. Hudson grabbed a chair for me that had been sitting in the corner and pulled it up to my mother’s bedside for me. I smiled gratefully and took a seat, reaching for my mother’s hand, squeezing it, trying to convince myself not to notice how cold her skin suddenly felt against mine. Like death.
“She’ll wake up, right?” I asked, shattering the silence in the room. For a long, trying moment there was silence, and Dr. Hudson cleared his throat.
“Obviously there’s a chance with every patient and every surgery that the they don’t wake up afterwards. But we don’t anticipate that with your mother.”
As if she’d heard those words, my mother stirred, and her eyelids fluttered opened. Sky blue eyes flickered over to me, scanning my face, and she squeezed my hand. Not with much energy, but with just enough to allow a slow simmer of relief to course through my body.
“Hey, Mom,” I said quietly, reaching my free hand up to rest my hand on the side of her cheek. My voice caught, and I swallowed, trying not to cry in front of her. “How are you feeling?”
She swallowed and coughed as if trying to swallow sandpaper, and Melissa offered her a sip of water with a straw. Once she’d drunk, she focused back on me, and a tiny smile played on her lips.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered. “Thank you. Thank you for being here.”
“Of course, Mom.” I took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips. “I will always be here for you.” Still holding my mom’s hand, I looked at Dr. Hudson. “How long does she have to be here?”
“We want her here overnight, and then tomorrow, we’ll reassess.”
“I’ll stay here with you,” I said, turning my attention back to my mother. “I’ll sleep right here tonight.”
“Don’t be silly,” Mom said. She sounded exhausted like it was a fight to keep her eyes open. I couldn’t blame her. I was tired, too, and I wasn’t the one who was sick. “Go back to the house and sleep in your room, Peyton. Nothing has changed since you left.”
“Mom.” I closed my eyes and leaned forward, still embracing her hand between both of my own. “Are you sure? I will absolutely stay here with you. I don’t mind.”
“No,” Mom said. She tried to shake her head but seemed too tired to do so properly and gave up halfway. “You have a bed just a few minutes away. Take advantage of it, sweetheart. Unpack your bag and settle in. I’ll be fine until tomorrow, I swear it.”
I glanced up at Dr. Hudson, hoping for an acknowledgment one way or the other, and he nodded.
“She’ll be fine. Go to the house. You’ve been here since this morning.”
With a nod, I squeezed my mother’s hand and stood up, realizing that she was already falling asleep. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom,” I murmured, kissing her forehead. And then I turned to Dr. Hudson. “Please call me if she needs me. Or if she needs anything at all.”
“I will.”
With a sigh, I gathered up my jacket from where it lay crumpled in a chair and shrugged it on, eyes on my mother’s face, soul aching for answers that none of us yet knew.
“Thank you,” I said, shaking Dr. Hudson’s hand. “I appreciate it.”
