Just like that.
Valerie appeared at the glass, trying to listen.
Mom leaned close, her voice low enough that only Marlene and I could hear.
“If you pursue this, you will tear this family apart.”
I looked at her sun-browned face.
“No,” I said. “I think I’m just going to stop holding it together.”
She stared at me.
Then Marlene stepped forward. “Time to leave, Mrs. Pierce.”
Mom’s eyes never left mine.
“You have no idea what I sacrificed for you.”
“For me?” I asked. “Or from me?”
For once, she had no answer.
Security escorted her out five minutes later after she refused to leave the nurses’ station.
The next week passed in fragments.
Tests.
Sleep.
Lawyers.
Physical therapy.
Phone calls I did not answer.
Thomas visited every evening, always asking permission before entering. He brought books, real coffee I was not allowed to drink, and stories about Sam Reed.
Sam loved thunderstorms.
Sam sang badly while repairing wiring.
Sam once drove three hours to return a wallet with nine dollars in it because he said honesty didn’t come with a minimum amount.
Sam had wanted to name me Emily if I was a girl.
“My mother named me Jessica,” I said.
Thomas smiled. “Sam liked that name too.”
“Did he know about me before he died?”
“Oh, yes.” Thomas’s face warmed. “He carried the ultrasound picture in his wallet. Showed it to strangers. Drove your mother crazy.”
I turned that over in my mind.
Leave a Comment