Lily White Lies(80)

“Hi.”

I felt a little electric jolt shimmy through my body. “Oh God, I needed this. Where are you?”

“JFK right now, but I’ll be home tonight.”

“To stay or do you have to go back out?”

“To stay. This week was... unusual, it doesn’t happen often. What are you doing?”

I felt another jolt race up my back. “I was just on my way out.”

“You didn’t see your grandparents yet, did you?”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

“Good, I really want to be there for you when the time comes.” I could hear someone in the background yell, ‘Con, let’s fly,’ and he said, “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Will I see you when you get in?”

I could imagine his seductive smile, when he said, “You bet.”

“See you then.”

“Bye.”



Work, thoughts of my grandparents and the everyday routine had me feeling drained, but since Con’s phone call, I felt recharged. I felt like I could look anything in the face and keep going until my whole life was in order. I hoped the feeling would last until after I saw my grandparents.

As hard as I found the task, I tried to put thoughts of Con out of my mind when the heavy double doors of Cherry Hall echoed as they closed behind me. I hadn’t seen my mother in almost two weeks and she deserved my undivided attention during my visit.

“Ms. Embry, why it’s nice to see you.”

“Hi Norma, nice to see you, too.” I asked, “How has my mother been?” addressing her as my mother for the first time.

Norma’s brow creased but she didn’t acknowledge the new information verbally. “Never better. It appears that God has touched another soul in our Karen.” Shooing me with her hand, she teased, “Go ahead down and see her, you didn’t come to chat it up with me.”

I smiled and headed down the dreaded hall.

Greeted with the usual cries and pleadings, I was surprised when I passed room one-nineteen without receiving the expected obscenities from the man who occupied the room.

I knocked lightly on my mother’s door and turned the knob slowly. Peeking into the room, I smiled at the sight before me. I hesitated before entering, reluctant to disturb the moment. She wasn’t sitting in her usual chair, facing the window and staring at everything or nothing of the world outside. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a Raggedy Ann type doll and stroking its yarn hair. Instead of the classical music I had grown accustomed to hearing during a visit, the lull of nursery rhymes filled her room.

I closed the door behind me, causing her to turn around. There was no smile on her face, she offered no words, but the sparkle in her eyes told me that she knew who I was. I sat next to her on the bed and held her hand without saying a word. She began to nod, slowly at first, and then faster.

On this visit, her unexpected action didn’t worry me as it had during my last visit. Instead, I was overjoyed to see the progress she had made. I thought about Gram and wondered when she had been here last and what progress she had witnessed.

I stroked the hair of her doll once and looked into my mother’s eyes. “I see you have a friend to keep you company.” She didn’t respond and I wasn’t expecting her to, but I paused just in case. “And I like your new music.”

I turned when I heard the door open behind me.

Norma popped her head into the room, and apologized, “I’m sorry Ms. Embry and I know you just got here, but Karen is going to have to come with me. I wasn’t expecting you and she’s scheduled to see the doctor today.”

“I’m sorry, I’m aware it’s not a regular visiting day, I should have called first.” I stood and lowering my voice, asked, “Why is she seeing the doctor?”

Alleviating my concern, Norma shook her head, and assured, “Nothing to worry about, just a routine checkup.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and turned my attention back to my mother.

Norma said, “I’ll give you a minute to say goodbye.”

“Thank you, Norma.”

My mother clutched her doll with one hand and I picked up her free hand. She wore a childlike expression of innocence and I wished there was some way I could make her understand the things I wanted to tell her.

“I wish I could see into your world.”

Picking her doll up off her lap slightly, she muttered, “Baby.”

My eyes filled with tears, as I smiled and repeated the word she had said. “Yes, your baby.”

With that, the door opened and an orderly pushed a wheelchair to the side of the bed where we sat.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but your aunt is going to have to come with me now.”