“Maybe we’re not all that alike,” she added, and put what was left of the muffins back in the bowl.
When we stepped out, I was surprised to see the limousine waiting.
“You didn’t have that last night.”
“Reward today for being such a loyal employee last night,” she replied. The driver got out to open the door for us.
It wasn’t snowing anymore, but there was a good two inches, and the sky was still quite overcast. It was very cold, probably below freezing. I didn’t want to say it, but I was happy that Roxy had been rewarded. We got in and were driven to the hospital.
“I hope the sight of me doesn’t put her into shock,” Roxy said when we got out of the limousine.
For the first time, I wondered how Mama would react to her. Surely, it would be wonderful for her to see her daughter, even like this, but would she smile, or would she burst into tears, and if she did that, would it be very bad for her? Would she look at Roxy and think of all she could have done to keep her home, all she didn’t do, and would that make her feel even worse?
When I didn’t respond, Roxy paused to look at me. “You’re not sure this is a good idea after all. Is that it, M?”
“Of course it’s a good idea. You’re her daughter. I told you how bad she felt about what happened to you.”
“Yeah, you told me,” Roxy said, and walked quickly ahead of me. But when we reached the ICU, her step slowed. From the look on her face, I thought she was going to back out for sure.
“She’ll be glad to see you,” I insisted. “It will be something good after something so horrible.”
She turned away.
I put my hands on my hips and raised my voice. “What is it? You were ready to see her yesterday, weren’t you?”
“I was going to see her, but I’m not saying I was ready,” she replied. She looked at the door. “Don’t you think I imagined seeing her again, thought about it, dreamed about it?”
“I don’t know. How would I know? You didn’t want to before she got sick, and when I came to see you . . .”
“Forget about it,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
She moved quickly to the door, and we entered the ICU. I could see that Mama was raised a little in her bed and sipping something through a straw. When she turned and saw us approaching, she stopped sipping and lowered the plastic cup. Her eyes widened. I moved ahead to kiss her, but she didn’t react. She was fixed on Roxy.
“Am I dreaming?” she whispered.
“How are you feeling, Mama?” Roxy asked, as if she had never been gone.
“Roxy,” Mama said. “My Roxy.”
I looked at Roxy. Her lips trembled, but she sucked in her breath.
Mama reached out for her. Roxy looked at her hand and then took it and embraced her. For a long moment, they held on to each other. I had the feeling that either one would crumble if they let go. Roxy did first, and then Mama released her so she could step back.
“You’re very beautiful, Roxy,” Mama said. “Très jolie.”
“Thank you.” She looked at me. “She’s not bad, either.”
“Both of you . . . together . . . this is my dream,” Mama said.
“Yeah, well, you picked a helluva place to have it, Mama,” Roxy said.
“Are you all right?”
“Me? I’m terrific.”
“I tried to get you to come to your father’s funeral,” Mama said.
“I was there . . . at the cemetery,” Roxy told her.