Page 6 of Shelter for Shay
He just had to get there first.
2
SHAY – LAKE GEORGE, NEW YORK
The oxygen machine hummed its soft, rhythmic exhale beside the bed. The heart monitor beeped. It was low but filled the room, letting Shay know her mother was still alive. Outside the window, autumn had begun to press its gold-stained fingers against the trees, but the air in the room remained still, heavy with waiting.
Shay sat beside her mother’s bed, notebook forgotten in her lap, one hand loosely wrapped around a chipped ceramic mug of cooling tea. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just… tired.
Margaret had always been a force. A sharp-witted, deeply empathetic guidance counselor with a backbone made of steel and a heart that took on everyone else’s pain like it was her own. But now that same heart was faltering—literally. The rare genetic heart condition they thought was manageable had accelerated faster than the doctors predicted.
She was dying. They could no longer pretend the end wasn’t on the other side of the door. For the last six months they’d tried. They’d made a list of things they wanted to do together. Some might call it a bucket list. They chose not to call it anything. It just was. They gardened together, something they used todo when Shay had been a kid. They went on walks, when her mother felt up for it. Watched old movies. Took drives to places that meant something or places that had no significance at all, except to make a new memory.
They laughed. They cried. They loved.
Shay cherished these last six months with her mom. However, she resented that it took something like a terminal illness to remind Shay that her mom wasn’t a superhero.
“Shay?” Her mother raised a shaky finger. “Who are those flowers from and when did they get here?” her mom asked as she woke from a short nap.
Sometimes Shay wondered if her mom knew she constantly went in and out of sleep in the middle of conversations. “About twenty minutes ago,” Shay said. “The card says they’re from your old study group in college. The note said something about we can help, just say the word.”
Her mom coughed and wheezed.
“Any pain?” Shay asked softly.
Her mother blinked slowly. “Just a little,” she murmured. “Mostly I’m just annoyed.”
Shay raised an eyebrow. “At the flowers?”
“Not them so much, but I haven’t spoken to that group in years,” her mom said with a long sigh. “Death. It has terrible timing. I’m so sorry you had to spend this last year taking care of me.” She waved her hand toward the floral arrangement. “Get rid of those things. I wasn’t really friends with those people back then. They certainly can’t help me now and I don’t really want to stare at them on my deathbed.”
Shay rose, snagged the vase, and placed it in the hallway. Her mom’s friends consisted of the garden club ladies, a few women in the neighborhood, and a few colleagues from the high school. She’d never talked much about college, except to say her focus had been to get her degree and to raise her daughter.Outside of that, her mother didn’t have much time for a social life. Shay eased back into the chair. “I’m so grateful for this last year, Mom. Besides, I was growing tired of my job. This last one wasn’t what I expected. They had me behind a desk, not out there giving tours, and while I want to return to Australia someday, I do not belong in the corner.”
“No, my baby girl certainly does not.” Her mother coughed again. “Once I’m better, you’ll find another awesome guide job somewhere. Maybe New Zealand or Cambodia. I know those are on your list.”
Shay managed a faint smile, though her chest ached because her mom wouldn’t get better this time. The doctor had told her to start making plans for the end because it was right around the corner. She reached for the blanket, smoothing it across her mother’s legs just as she heard the mail truck drive by.
“Be right back,” she said, stepping into the hallway. She leaned against the wall and sucked in a deep breath. Shay wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this. She wasn’t as strong as her mother. She bent over, picked up the flowers, and stared at the card. She found it odd that the study group hadn’t signed their names, and even odder, her mother’s reaction. But who was she to judge?
Quickly, she brought the flowers down to the kitchen and placed them on the table, where she’d let them wither until they died. She’d toss them on garbage day. She raced out the front door, down the porch steps, and snagged the mail, but not before she waved to the neighbor across the street.
She returned a minute later with a small stack of envelopes and a glossy catalog. “Junk, junk… medical bill… sympathy card from someone who apparently thinks you’re already dead.” Someone might think her and her mom’s way of handling this situation was cold and uncaring. But her mother always took things on the chin. She always told Shay that life was a circle andno matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t end that cycle. Live, love, and laugh to the fullest. It’s why her mom always supported Shay’s travel dreams because it’s what made her happy.
But Shay wasn’t sure what could ever make her heart sing now.
Margaret snorted softly, eyes closed. “Probably Amanda from the gardening club. She wants to be chair and my death would give her that opportunity.”
“Maybe I should join the gardening club because Amanda Ludwin is a snob. She was a bitch to me in school and I can’t believe she’s giving you a hard time.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, dear,” her mom said softly. “Except maybe with you.”
“Yeah, I rolled a little down the hill.”
Both women laughed at the old joke.
Her mom reached out with a shaky hand. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
Shay smiled at her mom. “Thanks. I love you, too.” She went back to the pile of mail. “Well, crap.” She held up the official-looking envelope.
