Page 77 of As a Last Resort
I was so tired of people doing things out of obligation or guilt for my mom.It was bad enough that he took care of me last night.I felt like a complete idiot and wanted him as far away from me as possible at that moment.I never had a problem with alcohol before, and here I was, sitting in a hospital completely hungover with my mother checked into the ER because she was found passed out.Great look for both of us.
This is what I’d been missing at home.Endless calls of “we found your mother.”Town gossip about who she was slobbering over at Harpoon’s, or who she stumbled home with.
I needed to get out of here.The promotion was gone.Robby was on his way.Maybe I’d just quit, or look for a new job.Or maybe some other monster project would sign on once wind of the Oakstone Springs project went public and I’d get that one.I just knew I needed to get the heck out of Dodge.
A nurse walked up to me and handed me two Tylenol and a cup of water.“Here you go.”
“Oh, I’m not a patient here.I’m just waiting for my mom.”
“Doctor got pulled into an emergency real quick, but said to let you know she’s up and doing alright.You can go on in and see her.He’ll be back around to talk to you soon.”
I let out a shaky breath but didn’t move.
She paused, then slowly eased herself down into the chair besideme with a soft sigh.“This old back gets more and more bent over the more weight it’s got to carry.”Her voice was smooth and steady.She glanced over at me, her smile warm and familiar, as if she’d known me my whole life.The faint scent of baby powder lingered around her, and the crinkles etched across her face—evidence of a lifetime of joy or pain—deepened when she smiled.She held out the Tylenol again.“Austin said you might need this.”
“Oh, um, okay.Thank you.”
“Patrick’s my son.”She patted my knee as she leaned her head back on the wall and closed her eyes.Her name tag—MABEL—pulled against her snug cotton scrubs.
“Oh, I see,” I said, the realization of where the familiar smile came from finally dawning on me.“Gotta love small towns.”
“It had just been me and my boy our whole lives, then this little boy with shaggy blond hair comes home one day with Patrick like a lost puppy.He says to me, ‘His name’s Austin, can we keep him?’Haven’t been able to separate them since.”
I smiled, thinking of Austin as a kid.I knew that shaggy mop of hair she was talking about.
“So I heard Patrick changed his name?”
“Oh Lord, don’t get me started, catering to those tourists with that silly accent.He’s a closet comedian, that one, always thinking he can make a buck with his jokes and his acting skills.”
“He is pretty funny.”
“He is, isn’t he?But don’t you go and tell him that.You’ll just encourage it.But he’s a hard worker too, even if he drives me crazy.”She looked at me again, and I noticed her smile didn’t have a single trace of pity in it.“She’s up if you want to see her.”
I looked toward the door and exhaled slowly.
“Family ain’t who you choose,” she continued.“They’re who God gave you to love.There’s a big difference.”
“Well, I have no idea what I did to deserve this, then.”
“She lucked out getting you as a daughter.Lots of people don’t have someone who’d sit outside their hospital room after so long.”
“I haven’t been here in a long time.”Even though it felt like only yesterday I was in these halls.
“Doesn’t matter.You’re here now.”
“Does it count even when I don’t want to be?”I asked, guilt gripping my throat.
“That’s when it counts the most,” she said, easing herself up.“Take that Tylenol and stop by the desk and see me on your way out.”She shuffled down the hall as I stood up.
The smell of cleaner stung my nose as I walked into the small room.The curtain was drawn back, letting far too much light in, and she was lying back on the bed with her hands clasped in her lap.
She waited until I closed the door to speak.
“I know you’re angry.”Her voice carried that familiar grit from the friction of a tube being shoved down her throat.The bed swallowed her tiny frame.“I was doing so good.”
“Yeah, until a guest called 911 because they thought you were dead after finding you topless on the dock barely breathing.”
“Don’t exaggerate.”
