“You… you’re no better than your father. Putting all of usin danger with your foolish whims. You’re a disgrace. Adisgrace! You’re not my… my daughter.”
My hands shake. I twist my fingers together to hold them still. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Her face contorts until it’s ugly. “What did I ever do to deserve this? Abandoned by my family and stuck with only you at the end?”
Well.
Isn’t that a lovely thing for her to say?
Why did I even bother coming?
I have a flicker of instinct to lash out, to turn the knife, to make her hear how terrible a person and mother she’s been, to tell her she’s getting more than she deserves by my presence here.
But that feels mean and petty, and I don’t want to be that kind of person. All that’s left here isme—who I am—since this woman will never change.
And the person I am matters to me, even in this.
“Let me know if you need more water or anything. I’ll be here.”
Mother diesin the middle of the night.
There’s no climax. No final resolution or moment of bonding at the end.
She starts coughing. It continues. Then she can’t stop.
And somewhere in the middle of the hacking spell, she stops breathing and never starts again.
Teresa and I are both in the room with her—a grace she doesn’t deserve but we give her anyway.
Maybe it means something to her in her final moments. Probably not.
But Teresa is a good person, and I’ve always tried to be one too. So while the new family she thought would keep her safe and secure abandoned her when she needed them most, Teresa and I are still here.
It’s a relief when it’s over. Teresa is crying, but I don’t think it’s from grief. It’s a kind of emotional closure for her, and she’s always processed her emotions through tears.
I never have. My eyes are dry, and so is my throat.
I’m incredibly glad it’s over.
“I’ll get the village medic to come in the morning,” Teresa says, standing up with a wince, as if her back is sore. She’s got her youngest in her arms, a healthy, round-faced baby girl who is currently sound asleep.
“Okay. How are you planning to get back home?”
“I’ll send a message to Mason. We got an old motor a few years ago, and he’ll come pick up me, Bill, and Rayna.”
“Oh, that’s great. I guess Ben and I better leave in the morning, unless you need us to help with anything. I wish we could come visit, but it’s a precarious time. We’ve gotten attention, and it’s been risky enough to come here.I don’t think we should even get a ride from you just in case someone notices. There’s no way I’m going to put you and your family in danger.”
“I know. I agree. We’ll find another time to visit.” She moves Rayna into one arm so she can hug me. “Thank you for being here.”
“It was mostly for you.”
“I know it was. That’s why I’m thanking you.”
Ben has been outsidewith Bill, both of them guarding the perimeter as obsessively as a pair of watchdogs, so I go out to find him and drag him inside to rest for at least a few hours.
We’ll need to leave at dawn, but even a short sleep is better than nothing.
He only puts up a token resistance. Teresa tells us to use the kids’ room, and she’ll clean it up in the morning after we leave.
