Anytime Soon (30 page)

He kissed me and it felt good. I scrunched my toes in my sandals and kissed him back.

“Call me later,” he said, stroking my cheek.

After he left, I sat in Mom's room, replaying the conversation for hours in my mind.

When did Carl figure out about Jeff? Why didn't he say
anything? Why did I choose Jeff over Carl?

The hospital visits were hard for me, watching Mom so ill every day. I felt as if we were losing her. When I came home each night, I was tired and upset. I was grateful that Sophie was helpful at the house. She did dishes, cleaned the bathrooms, took out the trash, and helped with anything else she could think of. But she was a terrible cook, so Mom, although stuck in the hospital, forbade Sophie to do anything in her kitchen except eat and wash the dishes. Sophie had stopped smoking, so she had put on three needed pounds and actually looked like herself again. She enrolled in the local community college for fall semester.

After a week, Mom seemed much stronger, so they let her come home. Aunt Marie came by the house every day to check on us. Although Mom wanted to do some cooking and fussing as usual, she wasn't able to drive or do housework because she got tired so fast.

Meanwhile, Aunt Marie was getting thinner. When she got stressed, she didn't eat. She and Mom kept their feud going, but it was tamer now. Neither of them had the energy for much more. But one afternoon, Aunt Marie brought Amber to visit, and a lot of frank things got said. I felt lucky to be able to hear them from the kitchen.

“Hi, Auntie,” Amber said to my mom, who was resting on the living room couch. “You okay today?”

“Girl, your auntie is just fine. Just a little tired is all. Nothing a bit of rest can't fix. How's school?”

“Good,” Amber replied.

“And cheerleading?”

“Mom doesn't let me—” Amber started to say.

“Amber!” Aunt Marie interrupted. “Go in the den and do your homework. Your dad will be here soon. Anita, can she use the computer in there?”

“Of course,” Mom said. “Make yourself at home.”

When Amber had left, Mom said, “Merle, stop smothering that girl.”

“I'm not smothering her.”

“Yes, you are. Did you make her quit the squad?”

Aunt Marie frowned.

“You know how much she loves cheerleading.”

“She lies, Anita! Tells us she has practice when she doesn't, and tells us she doesn't have practice when she does. I'm not gonna reward that kind of behavior.”

“But cheerleading keeps her busy. If she has too much idle time on her hands, she's gonna really get in some trouble.”

“Well, if she gets into any trouble, she'll have to pull a magic trick. We don't let her out of our sight.”

“Well, Merly, if that's the way you want to handle it, go ahead. I can't tell you how to run your house. I will tell you, though, you're making a big mistake. If you hold on to that girl too tightly, she's gonna rebel.”

“We've already been through the rebellion.”

“You ain't seen nothin' yet.”

Aunt Marie sighed.

“Where's Adam?” Mom asked.

“Basketball,” Aunt Marie said. “He's always at some tournament. I'm not sure it was such a good idea to put him on this new traveling team.”

“Leave him alone, Merle, he's a boy. Boys are supposed to travel.”

“Who's traveling?” Uncle Allen asked, coming into the living room.

“We were just talking about Adam,” Mom said.

“Hey, girl!”

“Hey, Al, how you doin'?”

“I'm fine. How are you?”

“They can't keep me down, Al.”

Just then, Roscoe walked into the room, and he and Uncle Allen did the man-hug.

“How's work?” Roscoe asked him.

“Aw, man, I can't get folks to be accountable. Everybody wants to point the finger instead of figuring out solutions. It's sickening.”

“Well, Al, let me tell you something,” Roscoe said, moving in closer to him as if he were getting ready to reveal a government secret. “In life, people are either shovels or rakes. If a problem comes up, they'll either rake the problem to themselves and solve it, or shovel it off to someone else.”

Uncle Allen paused a moment before finally saying, “Right, Roscoe. You're absolutely right.”

“Amber's in the den on the computer,” Aunt Marie said.

When Uncle Allen went to get Amber, Mom said, “Merle, you don't greet your husband when he walks into a room?”

“I did greet him,” Aunt Marie said, sounding shocked.

“No, you didn't,” Mom said.

“Aw, Anita,” Roscoe said, “you don't always greet me, so why you worried about how she greets Allen?”

“I wasn't talking to you, Roscoe Goode.”

When Allen came back with Amber, Mom said, “Come give your auntie a hug.”

“Love you, Auntie,” Amber said.

“You be good, you hear?”

“Yes,” Amber promised.

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

“You take care, Anita,” Allen said.

“I'll be fine if you take this wife of yours home with you!”

Uncle Allen laughed.

As he and Amber were leaving, Marie called, “Make sure you do your homework, Amber . . . And no phone!”

Amber groaned.

After this, Aunt Marie started to braid Mom's hair, which she did once a week because it had started thinning.

“You can't smother the child, Merle,” Mom said. “She'll rebel against that.”

“She can rebel all she likes, but she'll do it in my presence.”

“She's not always gonna be in your presence, Merle. You have to give her a chance to prove herself, before you tie her to the ball and chain. She's miserable.”

“She's not miserable. That girl has a great life. You know that, Anita. The girl's lucky to see the light of day. We should have punished her more.”

“You're punishing her by dragging her all over town with you, Merle. The girl's getting into her teen years. You can't change her, and you can't force her to do anything. You can groom her and raise her—that's it. If you hold on as tight as you are now, you are gonna lose her, 'cause she'll feel like your expectations for her are so low. You guys are gonna have to get past this one, Merly.”

“I'm scared, Anita. Kids these days—you see how they are. I don't wanna lose my baby to drugs, or AIDS, or gangs. I just wanna love her, Anita.”

She started crying. Aunt Marie cried so easily. I could tell she had been doing it a lot.

Mom just let her cry for a while. Then Mom said, “Let it go, Merly. You spending all this time watching Amber like a guard dog. What about Adam? Who on Earth is paying attention to him?”

Aunt Marie started crying again. When Aunt Marie blew her nose, Mom said, “Good Lord, Merle, you gonna bust a vessel!”

“I just don't wanna lose her.”

“I understand that, but you have to let the girl breathe. You have to, or she's gonna break your heart. Just hold her close, while letting her go. Can you try to do that?”

Aunt Marie let out a loud howl. After crying for a few minutes, Aunt Marie composed herself.

“You were always the wise one, Anita.”

“I was always the pretty one, too,” Mom added.

EIGHTEEN

M
om had ovarian cancer. Apparently, ovarian cancer and menopause have identical symptoms. Once she was diagnosed, everything went blindingly fast. Roscoe took her for chemo treatments three days a week, she started to be sick and lose her hair, and he started to drink again.

When Ava found out, she advised, “We need to fast and pray.” I didn't feel much like eating anyway. My mom had always been the rock for everybody else. I wanted to be strong, too, for our family; but how could I do that when my mom was fading away before my eyes?

The doctor told us that the chemo would probably make her sicker and we should be prepared for changes in her mood.

When I walked into Mom's bedroom one day, she was crying. She sat at her vanity and rubbed her hands across the peach fuzz on her head.

“Mom?”

She turned to look at me with tears on her cheeks.

“We need to go to your MRI appointment.”

Mom was claustrophobic and would probably panic from being confined inside an MRI machine. We got there early, so that the doctor could give her Valium a half hour before the appointment. Aunt Marie met us at the hospital. While the nurse led Mom away, Aunt Marie, Roscoe, and I waited in the lobby.

“It's gonna be fine,” Aunt Marie tried to reassure me.

My cell rang.

“Hey, hon,” Octavia said. “How you doin'?”

“Hey,” I said, moving away from my family for a little privacy. “I'm doing okay. We're at the hospital with Mom.”

“I don't wanna hold you up. I just want you to know that if you need anything, don't even think twice about calling me. You hear?”

“Yes,” I said. I was overwhelmed by how nice and compassionate she was. Everyone was being so helpful to us. I'd never been in a situation before where I needed anyone other than my parents. The support felt good. It made me realize that I didn't need to be in control of everything all the time. I had a support system that I could lean on, which was invaluable.

Octavia and I caught up some, and she said things were good with the fireman. I wanted to ask about Jeff; but I didn't, and she didn't mention him, either. After that call, I went to the cafeteria to get coffee. When I returned, the doctor had just come into the waiting room.

We looked at him hopefully.

“Mrs. Goode fell asleep during the procedure,” he said, “so we're going to let her rest a while.”

“What did you find out?” Aunt Marie asked impatiently.

“Well, she's not responding to the chemotherapy. The cancer's spread to parts of her liver and kidney. She is too weak to endure surgery.”

My head was spinning, and all I could hear were muffled voices. My heart was pounding while Aunt Marie said something about getting a second opinion, and the doctor offered to support anything we wanted to do.

“There's an intense type of radiation treatment,” he said. “But I think that it would be too much for her.”

“Now what?” Aunt Marie suddenly said, stricken.

“She wants to go home,” the doctor answered.

“Does she know?” Roscoe finally asked, his voice cracking.

“Not yet.”

“How can she go home? Doesn't she need treatment?” Roscoe asked.

“All we can do now, Mr. Goode, is make her comfortable. We can send her home with morphine, or . . .”

“Or what?”

“Well, there's hospice,” the doctor said quietly. “I'm really sorry.”

This was the first time I'd ever seen Roscoe cry.

“God help us,” he said.

We brought Mom home the next day. She had an oxygen tank next to her bed and a small machine filled with morphine. We didn't tell Ava how bad off Mom was, but she knew things weren't good. Uncle Riley and Aunt Marie practically moved into the house. I was grateful, because we needed them. People called to offer support, and visitors dropped by with food, flowers, and cards, but Aunt Marie wouldn't let anyone see Mom.

Sometimes, I would go into Mom's room and watch her sleep. One morning when I walked in, I found Ava reading the Bible to Mom while she slept. When I came over to the bed, Ava immediately stood up and hugged me tight. We cried hard together.

“I'm not giving up,” she said.

“None of us are.”

“She's going to be all right, Ny. God has the final say.”

“Yes he does, Ava.”

“What's going on here?” Aunt Marie walked into the room.

We didn't answer because neither of us knew what to say.

Aunt Marie ushered us out of the room quickly. Once we were outside, she said, “Don't express negativity around her. Okay?” Aunt Marie's tone was sharp, but hushed. “She can hear you and sense your feelings. Don't do that. It doesn't help anything.”

She walked away, leaving us dumbfounded.

We tried to keep ourselves busy. The days and nights ran into each other, and sometimes I didn't know what day of the week it was. I had put my own life on hold. I didn't have a job or any prospects for one, and I knew Mom wouldn't like that.

I started thinking about what was next. I enjoyed teaching on the faculty campus more than I ever thought I would. During my spare time, I searched for jobs, and I had received calls for interviews. Two were teaching jobs, and one was a job working as a paid intern for a local congressman. The thought of getting back to life and having some direction felt good. I knew that at the moment, moving out wasn't an option.

One morning, Mom started throwing up and had a high fever. We rushed her to the hospital, and they admitted her to the ICU immediately. The waiting room was filled with family and friends: Ava, Uncle Riley, Aunt Deb, Sophie, Catie, and me. In the ICU, visitors were limited to three per room at one time. When three of us were in the room with Mom, the rest of us just kept each other company.

The hospital had become our second home. After Mom was admitted with the fever, the doctors told us they wouldn't release her until the fever came down. Once the fever came down, they didn't want to release her until she “stabilized.”

“She's never coming home, is she?” Ava worried.

“I don't know. Whatever happens, we are going to be okay. Just like we were when Andrew went away. It will be hard, I won't try and kid you, but we will be all right. We have each other.” I hugged her tightly.

I suppose I was talking to myself as well. With all the sad things that had happened over the past few months, I knew that life goes on. I was certain that Mom wouldn't want us to just crumple up and die with her.

Travis came to visit me one day, and we went out for lunch. I was happy to see him and grateful for the break away from the hospital. I hadn't talked to him much since I left campus. We e-mailed occasionally, but it was great to actually see him. He was as chunky as ever. We talked a little bit about Mom, but I got too emotional, so I switched subjects.