I force myself to take a deep breath as I listen to the phone ring.Please pick up. Please pick up.I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t answer.
“Hey, beautiful. How’s your mom?” Brian says, answering on the fourth ring.
“She’s out of surgery, and she’ll have a long road to recovery, but…she wasn’t alone in the car. Judy was with her,” I say, breaking into sobs once again. “She didn’t make it.”
Saying it out loud somehow makes her death real. Permanent. I suddenly become extremely nauseous, pressing a hand to my stomach, willing myself not to throw up. Sobbing on the phone to Brian is bad enough; the last thing he needs to hear is me retching.
“Oh God, Kate. I’m so sorry. I know how close you and your mom were to Judy. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you,” Brian replies compassionately. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips together at the finality of how he talked about Judy. The small shift in verb tenses takes my breath away. “I wish I could be there to support you. I would be if it weren’t tax season. You know how busy this time of year is. My father would lose his shit if I left town.” Brian lets out a deep sigh. “I absolutely hate that you’re going through this alone.”
“I wish you…you…were…here, too. I don’t know what to do. How do I handle all of this by myself?”
“Take a deep breath. You can do this,” he says reassuringly. “You need to focus on your mom and helping her get better.”
“I know. I just… Someone has to tell him. He doesn’t know.”
“Who doesn’t know?”
“Jake. He’s Judy’s son. The hospital couldn’t reach him. They told me instead. I’m going to have to tell him.” I sob harder. The walls feel like they’re closing in on me. “I have to tell him his mom died. How do I break that news? I’m not prepared for something like this.”
“Take a deep breath. You need to calm down before you make yourself sick. You can do this,” Brian replies, ever the confident guy who easily finds a solution to every problem, who never lets anything in life get him down. The strong man I’m going to marry. “You just need to take a few minutes to get yourself together. Check on your mom, see how she’s doing. Then, you can deal with Judy’s son. I didn’t even realize she had a son. Are they estranged?”
“No. He’s just not around much due to his career.” It’s the simplest answer to explain Jake’s situation. Brian doesn’t need the long-winded version of what happened and how Jake cut everyone out of his life. Except his mom. Judy would never let that happen. She’s relentless about calling him multiple times a week, refusing to let him go more than two weeks without talking to her. Or shewas. She won’t be making those calls anymore. To Jake or anyone else.
“That makes sense. I can relate to having your career come first. I can’t believe the hospital would makeyoucall him. It feels like they’re shirking their responsibilities. They’re trained to handle these difficult conversations.”
“They tried calling him a few times, but he never answered. Everyone in town knows how close our families are.” I force myself to take a few deep breaths, pressing my back into the plastic chair and wiping the tears from my face with the sleeve of my sweater.
“I really wish I could be there for you,” he repeats. “I hate that this is happening during my busy season and I can’t leave.”
“I know you’d be here if you could.” Or, at least, I think he would. Sure, he doesn’t take care of me when I get sick because he doesn’t want to catch it, but this is different. It’s a major emergency. The first we’ve experienced as a couple. If it weren’t tax season, he’d be by my side. Helping me through this. That’s what couples do. It’s what he would do if this were any other time.
There’s a rustling of papers in the background, so he’s likely at his desk, multitasking while he talks to me. “I hate to do this, but I need to run. I have a meeting starting in a couple of minutes. I’ll call you tonight. I love you.”
“I love you,” I say, tears still streaming down my face as Brian hangs up.
Talking to him made me feel a little better.
He’s right.
I can do this.
I’ll make a plan.
Find out about my mom’s injuries and what type of long-term care she’ll need.
Determine how to work remotely. It won’t be ideal, but taking months off work isn’t an option financially.
I can work on wedding planning from here, too. We’ve already picked out the venue. Most of the remaining to-do items can be done online. Brian can take the lead on any tasks requiring an in-person visit.
I’ll find a way to get in touch with Jake and tell him what happened. It won’t be an easy conversation, but I’d rather be the one to tell him than have someone from the hospital share the news.
He’s going to be devastated. First, his dad, now his mom.
How do you tell someone their parent died? How was the doctor able to make it seem so effortless?
I’ll figure it out. The right words will come to me. They’ll have to. I don’t have any other choice.
four
