Page 93 of Snowballed

Sigh. Just another way I miss Noah. He would pick up the slack when I got busy. Bert, the man he hired, is doing a great job, but he only comes on weekends. I wish he came every day.

I don’t understand it. I used to have so much energy, but these days I can barely drag myself out of bed.

When I get home, I can’t find my mother. Her car is here, but she’s not anywhere in the house. I change and go out to the barn to make sure all the animals are in. I don’t see them outside, so I assume that they’re okay.

When I open the barn door, I see my mother collapsed on the floor.

Oh my God. Is she…?

“Mom,” I scream, but there’s no response. I run over and touch her face. She’s breathing, thank heaven. She doesn’t appear to have any injuries, but I shouldn’t move her. I put a blanket over her, put a towel under her head, and call 911.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

“It’s my mother. I came home and found her collapsed on the floor. She’s unconscious.”

The dispatcher says she’ll send an ambulance immediately. She urges me to keep calm and asks questions about my mom’s age and health.

“She’s 46. She’s in good health.” Is she though? Should I tell them about the depression she went through after Dad died? But she’s over that now, and people don’t collapse from depression, do they? My mind jumps around.

“She was depressed after my dad died,” I blurt. “But now she’s fine.”

I stroke her golden hair. I wish Noah was here. He’d know what to do. Or at least he’d calm me down.

Be okay. Be okay. Be okay.The words form a rhythm in my mind. Because I know that I have not been nice to my mother for a long time. It started when she got depressed and I had to do all the housework. Now we fight about selling the farm. And I never gave Carl a chance.

At least you have a mother, Noah had said. What he must have meant was why was I working so hard to preserve my father’s farm when my living parent didn’t want it.

Finally I hear the faint wail of a siren. I run out to get the paramedics.

They ask me about her health as they quickly assess her and then move her onto a stretcher.

The woman paramedic pats my arm. “We still have to determine what happened, but her pulse and blood pressure seem normal, and there are no indications of a head injury. Why don’t you get her identification and health information and come with us?”

“She has health insurance,” I say, in case they’ll treat her better that way.

I get everything together and get into the ambulance. They don’t have the siren on, which I take as a good sign. On the way, I message the news to Derek. The ambulance is going to the University hospital, so he can get there easily.

The hospital feels like a lot of hurry up and wait. As I’m going through the paperwork, Derek rushes into the emergency waiting room. He looks serious and worried—the complete opposite of his normal demeanor.

“How is she?” he asks.

“I don’t know yet.”

We end up sitting on hard plastic seats. My mind is still racing.

“Oh my God, I don’t even know if the animals are in,” I wail.

Derek pats my hand. “Don’t worry. It’s all taken care of.”

“How?”

“I was with the guys when I got your message. Noah offered to take care of the farm. He’s driving out with Wags. They’ll bring back your car so you can get home tonight, unless you want to stay with me.”

I shake my head. “Let’s wait. Maybe Mom will be able to come home too.”

Half an hour later, a doctor comes out to talk to us.

“Your mother is awake now, and we had a chat. It sounds like she’s suffering from exhaustion, but we’ll run some more tests in the morning.” He smiles at us. “You’ll have to take good care of her when she gets out of here.”

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