Page 95 of The Choices I've Made
She wasn’t wrong. To my left were the perfectly square pieces she’d diced, and next to them were the mushed versions I’d created.
“Where did I go wrong?”
“I don’t know, but I thought a heart surgeon would be better with a knife. Remind me to ask for someone else if I ever have a heart attack.”
My face blanched as the knife clattered to the counter. “Why? Are you okay?” My eyes began to skim her body, checking for signs and symptoms.
Her smile immediately vanished as her hands reached for me. “I’m sorry, Jake. That was a terrible joke. I didn’t mean it. I’m fine, I swear.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. The walls around me were closing in.
I just arrived home from Molly’s. We’d beenstudying—a code word we liked to use for anything besides actual studying.
I was running late and had pushed the limits of my beat-up truck to get here, only to find a dark house.
I felt an eerie chill when I entered the house, like a warning for what was to come.
“Is anyone home?” I hollered.
I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t stay inside. The darkness, the cold…something about the otherwise comforting home felt off somehow, and I ran out the front door.
Only to be met by Terri, my next-door neighbor.
“Jake, I have some bad news,” she said, her voice hoarse and sad.
“What is it?” I asked, backing away from the old widow.
I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know.
“Your mom,” she said, a tear falling down her cheek.
“What about her?” I said, still stepping back. My foot hit the first step of the porch, and I tripped, my butt hitting the ground.
She knelt beside me, her old knees creaking from the movement. “She’s gone son. She died an hour ago. Your daddy, he tried. He tried everything to save her. But it was too much. Her heart…it just couldn’t take it.”
“No, she’s healthy and young. She’s fine. She’s fine.” I said softly. “No,” I repeated, the truth settling in my gut. The word just kept falling from my lips over and over until I was shouting it. “No!” I screamed, tears falling from my face.
Terri held me, apologizing over and over, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. None of us could have known.”
I didn’t know what she had to be sorry about. She wasn’t the doctor.
My father was and he should have saved her.
But instead he’d let her die.
“Jake!” Molly’s voice cut through the panicked memory.
My vision sharpened, and the pale green walls of my parents’ kitchen came back into view.
“It’s okay. I’m right here.”
“What happened?” I asked, feeling dizzy.
“I think you had a panic attack,” she replied, her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders.
I nodded in agreement. “Sounds about right. Sorry.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re sorry? I’m the one who made the insensitive joke. I know what you went through. I was there. I should have known better,” she said.
