“I bet you’re shocked that I am. I haven’t always been—”
“Shh. You’ve always been perfect to me. You’ve always been true to yourself, and I admire that. I’ve been a shitty mom. I acknowledge that too.” She coughs and winces again. I stand, fluff her pillows and offer her water.
“We’re not going to talk about that,” I tell her. “We have to watch out for your blood pressure—”
“Let me say it. I don’t know when I’ll get another opportunity.” I sit. I could argue with her, but I know what she means. It’s almost impossible for her to pin me down. I’ve made sure of it.
“You weren’t always, though, Mom. I think it would have been easier if you were. It would have at least made more sense. The nine-year-old Vickie didn’t understand why you left her father. He’s perfect to me. But adult Vickie understands relationships aren’t always easy, and that only the two people involved know what’s really going on. What I’ll never understand is why you left us too. We’d go months without seeing you. You’d make plans and bail. I felt like you didn’t want to be around us, and that we were a nuisance to you. I still feel that way. I don’t understand how the mother who took such good care of us just walked out.” The words come rushing out of me. I’ve held onto those feelings for almost twenty years and having them come out was like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. A weight I didn’t know I was carrying.
The room goes deathly quiet after my speech. Beth comes in, checks Mom’s temperature and blood pressure. “It’s gone down a little bit, but it’s still high. Dr. Prescott will be back soon.”
Once Beth leaves, Mom grabs my hand in hers. “I was selfish, Victoria. I can’t make excuses.”
“We don’t have to talk about this now.” I rest my forehead on the back of her hand. “You need to rest.”
“Let me say something.” She clears her throat. I hand her the cup of water, and she sips, but her hand shakes the entire time. “This might not be pleasant for you to hear, but I fell out of love with your father.” Affronted, I sit up, ready to eviscerate her for daring to speak ill of my father. The man who has always been there, unlike her, but she squeezes my hand and I swallow my sharp rebuke. “It was nothing that he did. It was me. He was a good husband, but he was busy building the business and I was building my own career. Then my career stalled and his took off. The ugly side of me was jealous, and instead of being happy about his success, which was good for all of us, I became bitter. I blamed him for the lack of progress in my own career. I wanted to be a news anchor, and it never worked out, but things for your father were great. And it all became too much. I blamed you kids too.” I look up, shocked by that admission, but she holds a hand up. “We both had careers, but I was the one who had to handle almost everything at home. It was like I was working two full time jobs, and I was burned out. I left. I figured everything would be perfect for me if I could make my own life without the shackles of marriage and children. All I thought about was me.”
A coughing fit hits her and when the nurse returns moments later, I’m ordered out of the room while she’s examined. On the way to the waiting area, I slip into a bathroom and throw up. I haven’t eaten yet today, so I dry heave until there’s nothing left, and my chest starts to hurt. I sit on the floor for several minutes and gather my thoughts. I’ve always known Mother was selfish, and this story is no great revelation. It just confirms what I’ve always suspected, but the idea of her blaming us for her floundering career is something I’ve never considered. I’m not surprised she blamed Dad.
I stand, and since I’ve spent the last two weeks throwing up, I pull out the little bottle of mouthwash I keep in my purse. Once I rinse my mouth and my face, I return to the waiting room.
Colt rushes to me when he sees me, but I push against his chest and move away. He sits next to me and grabs my hand.
“She’s okay.” He’s been here with me. He has a right to know her progress. “We talked, but she started coughing so the nurse told me to leave. You can go. Thank you for bringing me here, but you don’t need to stay.” I stand and start to pace the small room. It’s going to be hours until my family gets here, but I plan on staying in the building until their arrival.
“I’m not leaving.”
“We’re not in a relationship anymore, Colt. You did your good deed.” I stare out the window and into the overcast city.
FIFTY-TWO
I approachbut I don’t touch her. I stand as close to her back as possible without our bodies making contact. I’d give anything to pull her into me and wrap my arms around her right now, but I know she’ll fight me, and she’s already under enough stress.
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re not pushing me away.”
She scoffs and shakes her head. She steps away and stands on the other side of the room.
“Right. I pushed you away. Of course, you’d blame me because I’m the one who went to another state and forgot you existed. You know what, Colt? Go to hell. In case you haven’t noticed, my mother is in a hospital bed. This isn’t about you.”
She sits and we both remain quiet. She’s right. This isn’t about me, and we’ll have plenty of time to talk about our relationship, but now’s not the time. I take the seat next to her and remain quiet.
About an hour later, her cousin Bernie comes into the room. Vickie runs into the woman’s arms and they hold each other. I’ve met Bernie a few times, but right now I envy the fact that she’s consoling my woman and I can’t. She should be in my arms getting comfort from me.
“Your mama’s going to be okay,” Bernie says. “She’s a tough old bitch.” Vickie nods her head in agreement. “But I’m surprised to see you here.” Bernie cups Vickie’s cheeks and stares into her eyes. “Oh,” she says as if everything makes sense. “I see.” She looks over at me but doesn’t offer me a smile. She’s always flirted with me, but today, her eyes are dark and practically shooting fire at me.
For the next three hours, we wait. Vickie excuses herself to use the bathroom four times, and each time she wrings her hands before she goes. When I get a text from the nanny, I tell her where to meet us. A few minutes later, she walks in with Evan.
“Vickie!” Evan yells. He runs and jumps into her arms. “You’re back! Daddy said we were going to Mexico for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Does this mean we’re not going anymore? I’m playing soccer now that baseball season is over. Will you come to my game on Saturday?” He talks nonstop, telling Vickie about everything she’s missed since she’s been gone. She holds him the entire time, nodding and answering all his questions.
My heart swells at the sight of her and my son. As much as I’ve missed her, I know Evan has too. I’d give anything to take them both home tonight.
“Well, I’m not going back to Mexico,” she tells Evan. My ears perk up at that. I’ll have to find out the reason later. “And I’ve missed you too, so yes, I will come to all your games. How about we go to the cafeteria and get you a snack? If you eat it all, I’ll get you ice cream.” She brushes his hair off his forehead. Evan nods, and they start to walk out without asking me if it’s okay.
“I’ll call you if anything happens,” Bernie says to their retreating backs. I dismiss the nanny, but instead of taking my seat, I walk around the room to stretch my legs.
“You know, I liked you,” Bernie says to me.
“Liked? I thought we were friends, Bernie.” I give her my best smile, but she doesn’t return it.
