As you should.
Of course, she would expect me to drop everything important in my life to be here for her.
Of course, she expects me to put her first, when I can’t remember a time in my life where she did the same for me.
Of course, she expects me to give up the jobI’vewanted for so long, to be byherside through this.
“How’s my girl doing?” Mark says from the doorway, and my head whips over my shoulder.
“Hi, honey.” My mom smiles up at him with her eyes, and the person she was only seconds ago, now ceasing to exist. “Jenna here was just telling me that she’s going to leave that small town and take care of me while I go through physical therapy. Isn’t that nice?” She bats her eyelashes at him, and I vomit in my mouth, swallowing it when his eyes narrow in on mine.
“Then you should get some rest, Jenna. She will need you around the clock.” He kisses my mom’s temple before ushering me to stand. “Give your mom a kiss goodbye. Dr. Mansfield saidher PT will start the moment she feels a little stronger. I’ll call you when I know more.”
I haven’t so much as hugged my mom since my father’s funeral, yet she holds her stronger arm out for me, and I’m too uncomfortable to decline her, so I don't.
I take the two steps between us, dipping my head lower until it rests on her shoulder. We both keep our arms still by our sides, but she nuzzles herself closer to me. “I don’t need you here, Jenna. I don’t evenwantyou here. But good thing I have a job now, so insurance will cover all medical bills. I guess you came in handy, after all,” she whispers in my ear, low enough for only me to hear, and I pause before I pull away.
Her words turn my world dark, ripping every ounce of color I’d ever experienced.
I don’t need you here.I don’t want you here.
For someone with such little physical energy, mentally it hasn't changed or drained her.
I give the two of them my best, fake smile, and head out the door, bumping into Dr. Mansfield on the way.
“Doc?” I squeak out, and his eyes look toward my mom’s room, then back at me. “My mom…she’s going to be OK, right?”
“We don’t like to make promises, but if she’s willing to put in the work, I’m confident she’ll make a full recovery.” He checks his watch, then looks back at me.
“Did she have any alcohol in her system when she came in?”
I don’t know why I ask.
That’s not true. Idoknow.
I want him to tell me that she’s way over the legal limit, so the things she just said to me wouldn’t hurt so badly.
“Ms. Rogers, your mom’s blood alcohol level was at zero.” He grips my forearm for reassurance, but I don’t feel relieved.
I feel like a fucking fool.
“I should be a contact on my mom's file. Do you think you can have someone keep me updated throughout her physical therapy?” I ask, wanting to be kept in the loop, but only from a distance.
“You got it.”
Thanking him, I walk out further down the hallway, text Margot that I’m on my way to dinner, and book the first flight leaving for Grangewood Creek.
If that woman thinks I’m pausing my life so she can have control over me, she doesn’t know me at all.
***
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” I bring Margot in for a quick hug before she sits back down in her seat, and I take mine.
She waves me off, swallowing the sip of the cocktail she’d just taken. “It’s fine. I got your text when I was putting my shoes on. I called the Lotus and had them push back our reservation, but in case you can’t tell, they’re not very busy.” She chuckles, looking around the almost empty space. “Apparently, this is the busiest they get.”
After I left the salon this morning, I’d asked her to book this place. I wanted to see what it was like.
I felt a pull toward it, and I couldn’t explain why, and now that I’m inside it, I still can’t understand it.
