“I think so, too,” Jo agreed.
Andrea simply nodded, still overcome by emotions to utter any words.
“I’m gonna check on mom.”
Andrea nodded before watching Jo exit the kitchen to head upstairs. She released a labored breath and turned back to making a pureed fruit shake for her mother. As soon as Cora returned from the inn, they would be heading to the doctor’s office. The day prior had been hard to watch Becky’s behavior during their poker game and they were getting very concerned.
Fifteen minutes later, Jo and her mother hadn’t come down the stairs. Putting the shake in the refrigerator, she made her way upstairs.
“Jo, what’s taking so…”
Jo knelt before her mother, who was bent over the edge of the bed.
“Her hand,” Jo pointed out with alarm. Andrea’s eyes immediately locked on her mother’s hand, where her fingers curled inwards toward her palm. “It’s stuck. I can’t get them straight and…”
“Jo, it’s fine,” Andrea reassured, helping her to her feet. “Everything will be fine.”
“Mom, does it hurt?” she asked her mother whose eyes had been downcast.
Andrea’s heart felt like it would shatter at the hurt and fear embedded in her mother’s light brown eyes as they raised to meet hers. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice cracking on the last syllable.
Andrea rushed over to hug her close. “It’s fine, Mom. None of this is your fault. We’ll be here for you through it all. I promise.”
Twenty minutes later, Cora was back, and they piled into her Land Rover and took off. A half-hour later, they were seated in Doctor Muller’s office while he examined their mother.
“All right, there is no easy way to say this, but…your mother’s symptoms have progressed to stage 2 of the disease,” the doctor briefed them. “What that means is that she will be having far more of these episodes and a lot worse. It comes with a lot of pain, swelling and stiff muscles, and in some instances, eating will be difficult because the mouth will have less and less saliva. ALS is extremely aggressive once it gets to this stage, so it won’t be long before it progresses to stage three. You would be lucky if you get more than two months tops before it gets there.”
“What can we do? There must be something…” Cora asked, the desperation causing her voice to rise.
Doctor Muller sighed. “I’m afraid there is nothing more medically that can be done,” he revealed. Looking seriously around the room at them, he said, “You need to spend as much time as you can with Becky, making happy memories and getting her as comfortable as possible. Once it gets to stage three, she will only be a shell of herself.”
On the ride home, the sisters remained silent as they mulled over all that the doctor had revealed. Andrea looked over at her mother, whose eyes were closed as she rested her head against the seat. A tear slipped down her cheek as helplessness tore her apart inside.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Andrea breathed out feeling a tear slip down her cheek.
Cora released a tired, defeated sigh while Jo remained silent. When they arrived home, they helped Becky upstairs to rest. As soon as she’d fallen asleep, they chose to have a cup of tea out on the side porch.
“As much as I wish it wasn’t, we have to make plans now to keep Mom comfortable and safe,” Cora spoke, looking at each sister.
“I think we should install a lift for the stairs,” Jo suggested.
“Or move her bedroom to the first floor,” Andrea countered.
Cora nodded contemplatively. “We’ll need to install some cameras too, and someone will have to be with her twenty-four-seven.”
The sisters nodded in agreement.
“Do you think…she’s aware of what’s coming?” Jo asked, worried.
Cora pursed her lips as tears welled up in her eyes. She looked out across the bay as her tears began falling. Andrea turned to look out at the bay as her own tears slipped through their barriers to cascade down her cheeks. Soon the three sisters sat, staring straight ahead as silent tears flowed.
ChapterThree
“Ican’t believe you’re asking me to sign this. After all, we’ve been through…” Rory paced the floor as she struggled to reign in her anger. James watched her, his lips glued together.
Suddenly she stopped pacing to stare at him with hurt in the depths of her green eyes. “You don’t trust me.”
“That’s not true, Rory. I trust you with my entire life,” James rushed out. He walked toward her but stopped a few centimeters away. James sighed, running his hand over his already disheveled hair in frustration and angst. “The prenup wasn’t my idea. I never thought about having a prenup. All I’ve ever wanted is to marry you.” He stared at her, his eyes shining with earnest feelings.
