One foot in front of the other.
My leg bounces uncontrollably as I sit in the emergency room waiting area, expecting my mom’s surgeon at any moment. The nurses couldn’t tell me anything more than what I already knew. Every passing minute lets my mind spiral further, creating an obscene number of ways this situation will end poorly. Each one worse than the last. My imagination might be a blessing when it comes to the creative aspect of my career, but it’s definitely a curse in situations like this.
This is one of the few times when I see the appeal of siblings. Having someone sit beside me in the freezing hospital waiting room. Someone to share the pain with. Be a shoulder to cry on. I used to have someone like that. He made me feel like I never missed out on anything by being an only child, but that’s in the past. Jake hasn’t been part of my life for almost fifteen years, and I can’t imagine that ever changing.
I scan the room and land on a doctor wearing dark blue scrubs approaching the nurses’ station. When a nurse nods in my direction, I know he’s been operating on my mom. The tension and weariness on his face aren’t giving me good vibes, and I realize the next few minutes will likely change my life.
“Kate Carpenter?” the unfamiliar doctor asks as he approaches.
“That’s me. How’s my mom?”
“Let’s go to a private room.”
Oh God. Private rooms are never a good sign. “Okay,” I murmur, following him down a hallway and into a small conference room.
“Your mom was in a car accident this morning and sustained several significant internal injuries as well as multiple broken bones. Her condition rapidly deteriorated, requiring emergency surgery. The surgery went well, but she’ll have a long, hard road to recovery,” the doctor explains calmly.
My heart breaks, imagining my mom’s battered body slumped over the steering wheel, unable to move until paramedics extracted her from the car. Gently, I shake my head, trying to force the haunting image from my mind. “How much longer until I can see her?”
“Probably a few hours. She’s headed to the ICU. They’ll want to make sure she’s comfortable before allowing visitors.”
“But she’s going to survive?” My voice cracks as I ask the question.
“Yes. Your mom will recover eventually.”
Relief courses through me as I exhale, and the tension slowly starts to fade from my shoulders. I can handle a long recovery. Anything is better than the alternative. I’ll figure out how to work remotely so I can stay with her. Immediately, my mind goes into planning mode before the doctor interrupts my thoughts.
“There’s one more thing we should discuss,” he begins, pausing briefly and focusing his eyes on mine. “Your mom wasn’t alone in the car.”
“What do you mean? Who was with her?”
“Normally, I wouldn’t share this information, but we’ve tried to reach her next of kin multiple times. I’m new in town, so I don’t know everyone. However, I’ve been assured you’re basically family and may be the best person to get hold of him.”
My stomach sinks. I know what he’s about to say before he opens his mouth. Tears start streaming down my face again as I close my eyes, trying to wish away this moment. Praying I’m wrong.
“Judy Caldwell was also in the car. Her injuries were more severe than your mom’s. We did everything we could, but she didn’t make it.”
I nod, unable to speak. What do you say when the woman who was your second mom for thirty years dies? There are no words to describe the pure devastation. Tears fall faster, and erratic breathing leads to full-on sobbing. My body shakes as I sit in a bright, poorly decorated room with a doctor who doesn’t know me, my mom, or Judy. He likely won’t remember this moment years from now, but it will be etched into my soul for a lifetime.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I’ll give you some time.” He gently pats me on the shoulder and leaves the room.
The door closes quietly behind him, and I sob harder.
This can’t be happening.
She can’t be gone.
A few days ago, she was ganging up on me with my mom about wedding planning. Now I’ll never talk to her again.
And… Oh my God. Jake doesn’t know.
I replay the doctor’s words in my head. The hospital couldn’t get a hold of Judy’s next of kin. He meant Jake.
Does this meanI’llhave to break the news to him? Tell the man who wants nothing to do with me that his mom died. The first conversation we’ll have in more than a decade will be me delivering the worst news possible.
The mere thought of that conversation breaks me. Snot drips from my nose, and tears cascade down my face as my body shakes forcibly. I try to muffle the anguish coming out of me, but it’s impossible. My heart hurts too much, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. This is the shittiest day of my life.
And I’m all alone.
