It took a few seconds, but her dad shifted his attention to her. “Hi, dear.”
She sat beside him and that’s when she heard her mom retching in the bathroom. “What’s going on?”
“Mom is getting worse.”
“I’ll meet you guys at the doctor tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
The bathroom door opened and Providence stifled a gasp. Her mom looked pale, gaunt, and sickly. Heather Sharpe ambled toward them. She and her dad moved out of the way and her mom got into bed.
“I’m not feeling so good,” her mom said.
Her dad held her mom’s hand.
“Maybe you should go to the hospital.” Providence felt her mom’s forehead. No fever. Then, she placed her finger over her mom’s wrist and timed her pulse. “Hmm, well, your heart rate is slower than I would have expected.”
“Probably because she’s so weak,” said her dad.
Megan appeared with a glass of water and set it on the night table. “Brunch is ready.”
“Thank you, honey,” said their mom. “Take Dad and enjoy. I’m going to rest.”
Providence glanced at her sister. “Can we bring you something? How about a piece of toast with jelly and tea?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep it down, but sure, that would be nice.”
“I’ll be back with it.” As Providence kissed her mom’s forehead, she struggled with just how ill her mom was.
“Dad, do you want me to bring you a plate so you can stay with Mom?” Megan asked.
He nodded.
The sisters left, closing the bedroom door behind them. As they headed down, Providence voiced her concern and her sister echoed her sentiments. They entered the kitchen to find a sweaty Randy guzzling a glass of orange juice. Leigh was seated at the table, surrounded by covered dishes, while Lizzie poured champagne in a flute, then added orange juice.
“Hey, guys!” Randy raised his glass. “The lawn is mowed. I’m taking a quick break for grub, then heading back out to weed the gardens.”
“Who wants a mimosa?” Lizzie asked.
Those two sure are happy.“No, thanks.” Providence placed a piece of bread into the toaster and pulled a mug from the cupboard.
“No one is having a cocktail?” Randy asked.
“No,” Megan replied, sitting next to Leigh. “I can’t drink. I’m too worried about Mom.”
“Poor thing,” Lizzie said. “I was hoping she’d be feeling better by now, but she’s getting worse.”
Randy walked past Providence and she grimaced from his body odor. He sat and started serving himself. “Am I the only one who’s eating?”
Leigh dished out a plate for herself, then passed a serving bowl to Megan while Providence waited by the microwave for the tea to heat.
“What’s your story?” Randy asked Megan and Leigh. “Are you two roommates?”
“We’re married,” Megan replied.
Silence.
“That’s wonderful,” Lizzie said. “Isn’t that great, honey?” she asked Randy.
