Page 33 of Lost Lyrics

“I’m fine. What’s going on?” Rubbing my chest, my fingers trembled. “You’re making me nervous. Is Mom okay?”

“I’m sorry. It’s not good news. It’s time.”

“Time?” Haze muddled with my brain. “Time for what?”

“Maddy?” Confusion edged into the doctor’s empathetic tone. “The infection your mom got in her lungs after surgery is back. It has worsened and isn’t responding to treatment. We’ve tried for weeks to get it under control, but her lupus has won. Adding in the years of Valerie’s excessive intake of strong prescription medication and alcohol abuse, her body can’t take anymore. It’s shutting down.”

“What? Shutting down? What infection?” My voice quaked. “What are you talking about? She had a bad flare-up last week, but that’s not anything unusual. She’s okay, isn’t she?”

“Maddy, no.” Dr. Raithna’s tone softened. “She’s been on a rapid downhill path for months.”

Months? No. No.No.The doctor didn’t know what she was talking about. “But we talk all the time. Take out last week, she’sbeen well.”

“You must have caught her on a rare, good day.” Dr. Raithna’s voice remained level but compassionate. “Bridget has done an amazing job taking care of her, but I’m sorry. There is nothing else we can do.”

What?Tears rolled down my cheeks. Mom had told me she was getting better. That she was living a healthier lifestyle, thanks to Bridget. No drinking. Fewer pills. Better meds. She’d said it was fine for me to go away with Slip. To work on our marriage. I’d always wanted to spend time with her because she’d been so sick, and I hadn’t wanted to miss a moment with her. Now this?

My whole body shook. My head throbbed, unable to fathom the news.

Slip wrapped his arms around me and let me sob against his chest.

“Maddy?” Dr. Raithna dialed down her tone. “We’re administering morphine to make Valerie as comfortable as possible. She’s slipping in and out of consciousness. In my honest opinion, she only has a few days left. A week, tops. If you want to see her, I suggest you come as soon as possible.”

“Oh my God.” My chin trembled. “Yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can. By early afternoon at the latest.”

“Okay. I’ll be at my practice for the rest of the day. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow morning here at the hospital around eight.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be there.”

I ended the call and dropped my cell phone onto the bed. “Mom lied to me. Bridget too. She’s dying...like, really dying.” The day I’d dreaded had come. I’d known it would, but not like this. Anger, fire, heartache, and hurt burned through my veins and singed every cell. This was so my mother. She’d kept the truth from me. Thatwasnothing new. Why this time? I didn’tneed protecting.Fuck!

“I’m sorry, Mads.” Slip pressed his lips against the tip of my shoulder and rubbed my back.

“Slip...” Unable to move, I stared at nothing, my eyes too full of tears to see.

“Sweets, I’ve got you.” He slid off the bed and drew me to my feet. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. Just the woody cedar scent of his bare skin cleared my head. His warmth soothed my heartache. “Everything will be okay. Why don’t you have a shower, and I’ll get everything organized?”

“Thank you.” I sniffled and nodded.

Somehow, I dragged my feet into the bathroom, bathed, dressed, and packed. We were on a plane by nine-thirty, in LA at one, and walked into the hospital by two.

I rushed down the corridor, gripping Slip’s hand so tight I was sure I’d cut off his blood circulation. He never complained. I burst into the private room and my heart faltered at the sight before me. Mom lay stretched out on the bed, hooked up to oxygen. An IV drip hung beside her, the tube leading to a bandage on her wrist. She struggled for every breath, wheezing and coughing with each rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes were closed. Her cheekbones protruded. Her skin, pale. Her arms, limp by her side.

Bridget shot up from the chair beside the bed and rushed over to hug me. “Maddy.” Then she gave Slip a hug too. “Hey.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes and no.” Bridget wrapped her arms around herself and glanced at Mom. Dark shadows circled Bridget’s puffy eyes. It looked like she hadn’t had a decent sleep in weeks. “It’s been a long couple days.”

I slid over to Mom’s side. I sat on the edge of the bed and took her cold, frail hand in mine. She’d lost more weight than I’d noticed during our video calls. “Mom? I’m here.”

Mom blinked her eyes open. A pained smile quivered across her lips. Tears welled in her eyes. She wheezed through her oxygen mask. “Oh, Madison. You came.”

“Of course I did.” I stroked her hair. With no makeup on, Mom’s cheeks were covered in red blemishes, but the rest of her face and bone-thin arms held a mix of yellow and gray hues. Her eyes that used to shimmer were now dull and sunken. The nasal gastric tube hanging from her nose ran behind her ears and was full of some creamy-colored fluid. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She clutched my hand against the mattress. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

I’d worried about her for fucking years; a bit more wouldn’t change anything. “If I’d known your health was this bad, and you only had several months left, I would’ve stayed in LA.”

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