Page 16 of Beneath Her Hands
“He doesn’t even know who I am, Rosie,” her mother said with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do or how to handle it. We were married for forty-two years—I don’t even know how to exist without him. I certainly have no idea how to take care of him.”
Rosalind reached around her mother’s shoulders and squeezed tightly. “It’s okay.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“It’s not okay,” her mother said through her sobs. “He always took care of me, and now I’m lost, he deserves so much better.”
“He’s a great man, he was a great dad, and from what I can tell, a wonderful husband,” Rosalind said.
“He was,” her mother said, her shoulders sagging.
“Heis,” Rosalind insisted.
“He isn’t,” her mother said. “He isn’t my husband anymore, my husband would never,neverhave pushed me down to get past me. I don’t know who that is wearing your father’s body, but it isn’t my husband.”
A cold realization crept into Rosalind. Her mother was right; he was too far gone. Her mother was no longer safe with him living in the house. Though she had fought the idea of her dad not living at home, it was time for some hard decisions. And it was going to be up to Rosalind to make them. She really wished she hadn’t messed things up with Jane. She wanted more than anything to go and find some comfort in Jane’s arms, but that was not likely to happen again.
“We’ll figure it out, Mother,” Rosalind said softly.
“I think I’m going to get some sleep, honey,” her mother said after a couple of minutes. “This pain medication has me all loopy.”
Rosalind chuckled slightly. The pain medication was a somewhat larger dose of acetaminophen than an over-the-counter Tylenol, but if her mother wanted to blame the medication for her state, then so be it. She gave her mother one last hug and turned off the lights as she left the room.
She slowly trudged to her office; the weight of everything sagging her shoulders. She sat down in her chair and put her head in her hands. Before she could realize what was happening, she was crying, deep mournful sobs that reverberated againstthe walls. She couldn’t fight it any longer—she had lost her father, even if he was still breathing. Her mother was no longer safe, and he would have to be moved to an intensive care facility, that’s of course assuming he even pulls through tonight. Such a cruel twist of fate for such a good man. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? Rosalind knew such questions were futile. She’d asked them time and again while she was overseas. Fate had nothing to do with anything, and people rarely got what they deserved. She snorted a laugh through the tears at her own existential pessimism. It was all so pointless.
A soft knock sounded on her door and she looked up wiping at her eyes. “Come in,” she called, fighting to keep her voice steady. Her heart leapt when she saw Jane poke her head around the door.
“Hey,” Jane said softly. The whole hospital could probably hear her crying. She bet they thought of her as a real hero now. “Are you alright?”
“No,” Rosalind said, and tears began to flow again. Jane stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.
Rosalind couldn’t help herself. She got up from behind the desk and crossed the room, throwing her arms around Jane’s neck, and cried into her shoulder. Jane just stood there frozen, holding on while Rosalind sobbed. She wrapped her arms around Rosalind’s waist and pulled her close. Rosalind breathed in the scent of her hair, welcomed the warmth of her skin. She was so grateful that Jane had come that she couldn’t even bring herself to speak. She just cried until she had nothing left to give.
Jane held on, giving her a pillar of strength. Finally, she led Rosalind over to the small couch in the corner of her office.
“We need to talk,” Jane said softly as she sat down.
“No, not right now, I can’t,” Rosalind said, fresh tears beginning to stream down her face.
“It’s about your father,” Jane said, her mouth tightening.
“Did something happen?” Rosalind asked, taking in a few gulps of air.
“No, but I did run some scans,” Jane said and took a deep breath. “Rosalind, it doesn’t look good.”
“What do you mean?” Rosalind asked, trying to find any ounce of strength left in her body.
“Your father’s condition has deteriorated rapidly,” Jane said. “His brain scans are well past anything we expected.”
“What are you trying to tell me, Jane?”
“Rosalind, I don’t think your father is going to be leaving the hospital,” Jane said, and her voice cracked.
Something broke inside Rosalind with the news, and though she would never admit it, it came with a sense of relief, of finality. “Are you… Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jane said, her eyes misting over.
Rosalind nodded slowly, she hated herself in that moment. She hated how vulnerable she felt. She hated the relief that poured through her that this was almost over. She hated that she was glad her mother would be safe again. It felt wrong, like she was betraying the only man she’d ever really cared for, but there it was.
“Go get some sleep, Rosalind,” Jane said and squeezed her hand. “Tomorrow is probably going to be a rough day.” Jane gave her hand one last squeeze and stood up. She gave Rosalind one last glance before walking out the door.
