mom. He kept his eyes on the road as Tori gushed about their tour. “It’s so nice there. And everyone is so friendly. Especially that one nurse, Miss Bylin.” She paused and glanced over at him. “Do you know her from somewhere? I think she went to high school with us.”
Knew her and her mother. “I know her a little.”
“She’s so cute and bubbly. I love her already.” Tori rested her chin on her fist. “I think Mom would like it there.”
“It’s going to be a hard sell no matter where we decide to leave her.”
“You talk as if we’re sending her away forever.” She shook her head. “I’m as clueless as you, but I have a good feeling about that place. Can we afford it?”
That was the big question. After leaving the hospital the night before, he had gone through his mom’s records to find the insurance papers that spelled out how much of the convalescent care would be covered, as well as their bank statements that showed how much they could pay for. Hopefully, it would be just enough. “Dad made sure Mom would be looked after. He might not have been a warm man, but he made arrangements so we’d be taken care of.”
“Good, then it’s settled. We’ll tell her today about our plan.”
“I’m warning you that she’s not going to like it no matter what we say.” He knew his mom. Knew her independent spirit. She wouldn’t be agreeing to this so easily. “She won’t want to go.”
Tori nodded and sighed. “She can be stubborn.”
“Luckily she has two kids who inherited that from her.” He gave a smile, his first since the call yesterday. Had it really only been a day since their world had shifted? It had started as a normal day but had changed in a moment with a phone call. Nothing would be the same again. He nodded. “But I agree. That’s where I’d like her to go, too.”
The exit for the hospital arrived, and Will took the exit ramp. As they got closer to the hospital, he made a vow that he’d take care of his mom. No matter what.
But that meant convincing his stubborn mother that he was right.
She folded her arms across her chest and refused to look at him. Much like a four-year-old would. He moved so that he’d be in her line of sight. “Ma, this is not up for discussion. You can’t go home right now.”
“Yes I can. I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions.” She looked to Tori. She gave her daughter a large grin. “Baby, you think I can do it, right?”
Uh oh. Ma was dragging out the cutesy nicknames. Stay strong, Tori. Will watched his sister, willed her to hear his thoughts. They had to remain united to convince her that their plan would work.
Tori paled and shrugged. “It’s not what I think, Ma. This is what the doctors say.”
Will let out a puff of air. He’d hoped they’d be on the same page here, but when his mom pulled out the baby card...He nodded at Tori, letting her know she was on the right track. They were only doing what was right for Ma.
“Doctors.” Their mom shook her head. “What do they know?”
Will sat on the bed next to his mom. “They know that you need to recover from this surgery. And they know you can’t do it at home on your own.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Tori sat next to Will. “No you won’t. You’ll be out in the garden when you shouldn’t be. You’ll be going back to work too soon. And that’s why you’re going to the seniors’ home.”
“I promise I’ll be good.”
Yep, a four-year-old. He took his mom’s hand in his. “It’s not forever. Just for now.”
His mom shook her head and took her hand away from his. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. That you’re sending me to a home and forgetting me there.”
Tori pleaded, “I’ll visit you every day, Ma.”
“You just want to get rid of me.” She covered her face. “You don’t love me.”
Tori put her arms around their mom. “Don’t say that. Of course we love you.” His mom and sister burst into tears, hugging.
Frustrated, Will got up from the bed. He had to take control of this situation before they agreed to do anything his mom asked. She might be good at manipulation, but he’d learned from the best. He summoned the spirit of his father, and let the steel surrounding his heart tighten...because it was for his mother’s own good.
“That’s enough.”
Startled, his mother and sister let each other go and stared up at him. Good. He had their attention. “You’re sick, Ma. Dying even.”
Tori gasped. “Will—”
“Unless you’re willing to fight to get better.” He crouched in front of his mom. “So do you want to go home and die? Because that’s what will happen.” He used the most serious tone he could. “Or do you want to go to the seniors’ home and fight this? Be around for your kids and grandkids? Live to see your first great grandchild?”
His mom narrowed her eyes at him. Let her be angry at him. It might give her the strength she needed to beat this.
He didn’t let up on her. He clenched his fists. “You will be going into that home. You will have chemo once you’re recovered. And when the doctors clear you, you can finally go home.” He stood. “Am I clear?”
There was a pause and then Ma sighed. “You sound just like your father.”
And by that, he knew he’d won this round.
SUZY TOOK HER afternoon coffee onto the deck and surveyed the backyard. Two days had passed, and she hadn’t started the clean up. Twelve days remained. She still had trash bags to drive to the dump. Old equipment to throw out. And Daddy’s car to be donated or sold.
She leaned against the railing and winced. She needed more time. She needed at least another eight hours a day for the next week to get all of this done. And if she didn’t finish in time, she’d pay a hefty fine and might lose Mama’s house.
She’d lose everything.
She walked back into the house and surveyed the cluttered kitchen and dining room. She couldn’t remember what the kitchen table looked like any more. It had been years since she’d seen it cleared off. She might have done her homework there during her high school days, but that was before Mama covered it with plastic bags, boxes and the various stuff she’d collected.
Now that Mama was gone, it was Suzy’s problem to deal with.
She put her mug in the kitchen sink and rinsed it out. Placed it face down in the wooden dish rack, a purchase she’d made after moving back in with Mama. Just one thing she’d had to do out of a million last year after her mother called for help. Her mother had put off getting medical attention until it was too late, meaning the cancer would
