Saved By You (23 page)

I gave her a nervous smile. “I hope so, too,” I said.

I watched her for a second as she walked back down the aisle of chairs and sat next to a few other people I recognized from the band’s audition. Haden was flipping through the magazine, trying to find the article about his band. After a moment of frantically ripping through the pages, he finally came to a stop. His eyes widened and a smile spread across his face as he read the article.

“This is amazing,” he said, shaking his head. He jabbed a finger at it and shoved it toward me. “They say they expect to see us headlining our own tours before the year is out. Listen—

Blending a style of rock, pop, and vocal styling reminiscent of Weezer’s Blue album, The Believers will spin your head and make your jaw drop. They’ve managed to work their magic on this editor—they’ve made me a true Believer.
”

Haden’s eyes gleamed as he finished reading the passage. I gave him a tight smile, and tried to keep down the wave of nausea that bubbled in my stomach.

“That’s so great,” I said. “Congratulations.”

He held the magazine up in front of him, marveling at it again. Then he shook his head and turned back to me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Hi.” He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. The whole thing was so sudden I barely got the chance to kiss him back. When he pulled away, his eyes studied me for a second. Then they darkened. “What’s up?” he asked. “Is everything alright at home?”

I gave him a puzzled look, then shook myself out of it.

“No, everything’s fine,” I said, waving my hand.

“Oh, good,” he said. “I just… I wasn’t expecting you down here.”

I gave him a tight smile. “Yeah, I just needed to get away for a bit,” I said. “Grandma thought it would be a good idea to get some fresh air.”

“Oh, okay,” he said. He shifted his weight nervously. “So, you didn’t need anything?”

My stomach tightened as I thought about the conversation I’d just had with Kyle. But, looking at the glow in Haden’s eye, I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it. Not when he was in such a good mood.

“No,” I said. “I just thought it would be nice to see you.”

His face spread apart in an even wider smile.

“I’m glad you did come down,” he said. “You going to stick around for a few songs?”

I pursed my lips in what I hope looked like a smile, but I shook my head.

“I can’t,” I said. “I promised I wouldn’t be gone long.”

His smile dimmed, but only a bit.

“Okay, well, it was good to see you even for a few minutes,” he said.

I nodded at him, and he leaned in for another kiss. My lips buzzed when he touched them, and I felt myself pulled up toward him when he leaned away.

“I’ll talk to you later?” he said.

“Of course,” I said.

No sooner had the words escaped my lips than he gave me a tight smile and bounded toward the stage. He held the magazine article out toward the band, and was calling for all of them to gather around.

I spun around and darted for the back of the auditorium. I had to get out of there before Kyle was able to track me down and ask me what had happened. I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to Haden about something that serious when he’d just gotten such good news.

Before I knew it, I was back in the ‘Vette, and was peeling out of the parking lot. I thought about nothing but that silly little magazine article the whole drive home. Not only had Rolling Stone taken notice of Haden’s band, but also they had written a glowing review. I didn’t know much about the music industry, but I was certain that had to be a pretty big deal.

Wasn’t that all the more reason to call things off with him? Wasn’t that all the proof I needed that Haden was throwing away a golden opportunity by sticking around in Green Falls? I felt sick to my stomach as I thought about it.

Why couldn’t Haden be just some regular guy that I had met? Why did he have to go and be so amazing?

When I got back home, everything was the same as when I’d left. Mom was still sleeping on the bed, and Aunt Denise and Grandma were both buzzing around trying to keep themselves distracted while there was nothing else to do.

They both gave me warm smiles when they saw me, and they asked how Haden was. I told them about the Rolling Stone article, and they thought it was the neatest thing they’d heard in a long time. I wished I could have shared their enthusiasm about it. I mean, the news was pretty cool—I just wished there weren’t so many strings attached to it.

I sank into the couch next to Mom’s bed and laid there for the rest of the afternoon. I told them both that I didn’t mind watching over her for a while if they had other stuff they needed to get done. The truth was, though, that I just wanted some time alone to think. I wanted some peace and quiet so I might be able to figure out what I was going to do.

As I lay there watching Mom, I wished more than anything that she were awake to talk to me. There were so many things I wanted to talk about. If I’d only had the chance to explain the entire situation with Haden, I knew she would have the perfect solution to fix everything.

But, she wasn’t awake. She wasn’t going to be giving me any advice. I had to figure this out for myself.

I watched her for a long time that afternoon. She looked so peaceful—so serene. From time to time I would hold her hand, hoping that she could feel it. I hoped she knew that I was there with her. It may have taken a while to get through to me, but I was there with her, now.

Every once in a while, her face would twitch. I double checked the morphine to make sure it was giving her the maximum dosage. Every little twitch looked like it hurt, and they sent shivers running through me.

I leaned in real close to her so I could whisper in her ear. I didn’t know if she could hear me or not, but I had to tell her anyway.

“I love you, Mom,” I said. “I know you’re probably worried about me, but you don’t have to be. Things are confusing right now, but I’ll figure them out. I’ll figure them out because you showed me what it means to be strong.”

I leaned away from her, and could have sworn her face looked more peaceful than it had before. I knelt down, close, so I could put my head on her arm.

“I don’t want you to hurt, anymore,” I said. “I know you’re fighting this really hard, but you don’t have to stick around for me. I’ll be strong for the both of us. It’s okay to let go.”

Tears bubbled to my eyes as I said it, but they didn’t fall. I don’t know what led me to say those things, I just knew that I needed to say them. It might have been my imagination, but I could have swore that I felt her whole body relax just a bit more—as though one more burden had been lifted from her.

I only wished that I could take more of the pain away. I didn’t want her to die, but I didn’t want her to be in any more pain. She’d known a life of too much pain, already. It wasn’t fair that she had to endure even more.

Sometime that evening, Grandma and Aunt Denise came by to check on me. They sat with Mom and I for a while, and then they both disappeared to sleep. I sat there next to Mom for a long time. I held her hand deep into the night, unable to pull myself away. I couldn’t tell you what made me do it, I just knew that it was the right thing to do. I knew that I wasn’t going to get another chance to be with her.

Finally, sometime around two in the morning, I laid down on the couch next to her, and let the sound of her breathing lull me to sleep for the last time.

The next day was business as usual. Grandma and Aunt Denise were awake before I was, and they were making sure Mom was alright. Grandma brought me a plate of breakfast. A stillness had settled over the house, and it weighed on us all.

Sarah spent most of the day running around with Huck. She had promised she would be back sometime in the early afternoon, but when lunch came and went, we hadn’t heard from her. Aunt Denise told us how nervous she was about Sarah running off to college somewhere far away, but she knew it was going to be a good thing for the both of them. She said it would give her even more of a reason to come visit me in New York next year. I smiled and told her that would be lovely.

The nervous small talk went on well into the afternoon. It was sometime after two-thirty that I realized I hadn’t showered that morning. I just hadn’t felt the need to since I had no intention of leaving the house, but the grime of being cooped up, and from sleeping on the couch, weighed on me.

I climbed into the shower and stood beneath the hot water for a long time. I let it soak through me until I felt like I could melt right into the bathtub. I tried to keep my thoughts clear. I didn’t want to think about Haden, anymore. I didn’t want to think about my dying mother laying in the other room.

My thoughts flashed back to the afternoon in the falls. I tried to imagine that I was back there, and that the water was still tumbling down on me, warmed only by the sun. It wasn’t long ago, but it seemed like a simpler time—a time when I didn’t have to make adult decisions. I was quickly coming to find out that adult decisions were very overrated. I’d rather be a kid, thank you very much.

I took my time soaping myself. Then I took an even longer time washing my hair. I let the lather soak in deep before finally washing it away. Maybe then it would take everything else along with it.

But it didn’t.

Finally, the hot water began to fade. I could have twisted the nozzle even further to keep it hot, but I’d been in there long enough. When I climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, a wall of fog and dampness greeted me. It cast a mystique over the tiny bathroom. It reminded me of the day spa that Sarah had taken me to in San Antonio.

I let out a sigh.
That
had been a simpler time—even if I hadn’t realized it back then. I guess you never know what you got until it’s gone. Was life going to get even worse before it gets better?

I pulled on the clothes that I had laid out. I put on a simple cotton tee with my favorite pair of blue jean shorts. Nothing special—I didn’t need to look cute. When I left the bathroom and walked into the second bedroom to drop off my clothes, was when I heard everything going on.

“Maggie,” Aunt Denise called out to me. “You better get in here.”

I don’t remember exactly what it was about the tone of her voice, but she didn’t need to say anything else. I stood in the bedroom, still holding my clothes, when I felt the little pang go through my chest.

This is it.

I set my dirty clothes down on the bed, and took a few deep breaths before moving. My fists flexed a few times.

You can do this.

When I got to the living room, Grandma and Aunt Denise were huddled next to Mom. Aunt Denise was holding her hand, and Grandma had a hand on her leg. I slid in next to her in the same spot that I’d held her before. I grabbed her other hand, and wrapped my fingers around her.

Mom’s breaths were a sharp staccato. They punched through the air like her body was trying to push her breath all the way across the room. Unconsciously, my fingers slid up along he wrist. I could feel the gentle thump of her pulse. It was steady, still, belying the sharpness of her breathing.

Poomp. Poomp. Poomp.

“It’s okay, Pattie,” Aunt Denise said in a soothing voice. Her face was neutral as she looked at Mom. “We’re all going to be alright. You can let go.”

It was almost the same thing I’d told her the night before. I noticed, for the first time, that Aunt Denise had a set of rosary beads in her hand. She thumbed through them absently while she clung to my mother.

I squeezed Mom’s hand, softly, as Grandma repeated the sentiment.

Poomp… Poomp… Poomp…

Surprisingly, there were no tears that rushed to the right then. There was no pain in Mom’s face as her body fought against each breath. She looked calm—her face serene—as though her body was just going through the motions.

The motions of dying.

Poomp… Poomp…

Poomp…

I slid my hand up along her arm, caressing her. There was no tension in her body aside from the spasms in her chest. Finally, the breaths became more spaced—their intensity muted. She was getting closer with each gasp of air.

“We love you, Patricia,” Grandma said. “Be at peace.”

Poomp…

Poomp…

Poomp…

Her breath slowed even more. It was barely coming, and I felt the anticipation building in my chest.

This is it.

I squeezed Mom’s hand again, and held on tight. After everything we’d been through—after all the things we’d survived—this was it. In that moment, I knew that the last thing I could do for my mom was to be there for her. I’d missed that opportunity so many times over the last few weeks. But, not anymore. I squeezed her hand, again, letting her know I was right there.

The breaths were barely perceptible.

Aunt Denise’s face turned beet red, and a tear fell down her cheek.

“We love you so much, Pattie,” Aunt Denise said.

I squeezed her hand one more time.

I’m right here, Mom
.

I watched as she let out a low, soft breath. Her body seemed to deflate with it. Grandma’s hand clung to her leg, and I cupped both hands around her, squeezing her tight.

Poomp.

I leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

“I love you, Mom.”

As I pulled back, Aunt Denise’s sobbed. She collapsed forward against Mom and clung to her.

The clock on the wall ticked and caught my attention.

It was 3:51 PM, and my life would never be the same again.

We held her for a long time before any of us moved. The whole thing had ended just as fast as it started. Had one of us been on the other side of the house, we would have missed it. Aunt Denise left to get Uncle Larry, and Grandma said she was going to make some calls. I sat there by my mother’s side, unable to take my eyes off of her.

Now that she was gone, the tears bubbled up and I didn’t try to stop them. She looked so peaceful laying there. I didn’t want to move—didn’t want to disrupt anything.