Page 92 of Dirty Puck

Claudia called me to meet her at the hospital. When we arrived, she stood in the lobby, arms already outstretched for Benny. For a woman who hated to drive, she surprised me. I’d expected to have to pick her up. But like me, she knew this day wasn’t about her or her fears.

We stopped at the ER desk. “My name is Baker Reece. My mother, Charlotte Reece, was just brought in by ambulance.”

“Just a moment,” the receptionist said and she made a call. A few moments after she’d hung up, a doctor in dark-blue scrubs walked out to speak with him. Us, I guess.

Reece gripped my hand. “Do you want to go in first?” I asked. “Give you more time with her.”

“No,” he said. “I want you there with me.”

“Normally, we don’t let a party this large into the room at one time, and we don’t let children that young back, but given the circumstances, you all can go in.”

The circumstance, as in, she was dying.

Her room was dim, the machines steady and quiet. Char’s breaths came too shallow and I knew there wasn’t much time now. Her eyes fluttered when we entered.

Claudia stepped forward, leaned close, whispered something in her ear. A goodbye, a blessing, a release—I didn’t know. Then she kissed her forehead and turned to us, tears sliding silently down her face.

Reece lifted Benny up, letting him lie gently in the space between her shoulder and the bedrail. Benny laid his head on her pillow, resting it against hers.

Even as Char lay there mostly unconscious, a tear rolled down her cheek. She understood her Benny was with her.

“I’m here,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m here, Char. Thank you for letting me be part of your family. Thank you for loving my boy like your own. Thank you for bringing a good man like Baker into this world. You are so loved. I prayed that my mom would meet you when you get to the other side.” Tears choked those last words. I wiped frantically at my face because I had something important to say. “Baker’s here. I need you to hang on long enough for him to say what he needs to say. Then, it’s okay. You can go. No more pain, Char.”

It gutted me to let her go. Another mother gone. But I hada role to fill here today and I planned to fill it to the best of my abilities.

Claudia took Benny after that. Took him home.

And I stayed.

I stayed as Reece held his mother’s hand. As he whispered how much he loved her. As her breathing slowed. Then stopped. Monitors went off. The doctor walked in unhooking everything to stop the alarms.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “I’ll give you some time.” Then he graciously left us alone. Reece held it together until it was just us and his mother lying still.

Then he broke. And I scooped up the pieces of him into my arms, offering a safe space to grieve.

They gave us all the time we needed. The hospital chaplain stopped in to ask if we wanted him to pray with us, but it wasn’t going to resonate with Reece now, nor would it help comfort him, so I politely thanked him for stopping but declined the offer.

Reece held his mother’s hand until the heat left her body.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

He reluctantly nodded. I helped him stand. A shell of a man.

Somehow, we made it to the house. I hardly remembered driving us there. It got worse inside, where the weight of her absence echoed through every room. No more gentle humming from the den. No more tea mug on the counter. No more sunlit smiles at breakfast.

We sat in the living room long after Benny had gone to bed, not talking.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Dane.Again.

I ignored it.

The next one went to voicemail.

I didn’t need to listen. I already knew the hits:

“You’ve got Reece now. What do you need my money for?”

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