“Mom, we can’t…”
“Don’t ‘we can’t’ me, son. I’m telling you where I want to go. Now, either you can take me or I can call a cab.” She pointed to her nightstand and said, “Lou, would you get the phone book out of the bottom drawer for me, please?”
Lou looked at Brody like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Don’t do it, Lou.” Then he turned to his mother and groaned. “You’re sure this is what you want to do?”
“Positive.” She smiled softly at Brody. “Why don’t you two go and pack a picnic while Lola here helps me get dressed?” She motioned for Lola to get up from her chair and pointed her toward the bureau to retrieve some clothes. “Move it, son. I don’t have a lifetime.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brody said as he pushed Lou from the room.
In the hallway, her worried eyes met his. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No,” was his only reply.
“Then why are we doing it?”
“Because, when people as sick as my mom are about to die, they usually have a day or two of clarity before it happens. They usually rally right before death. They have an opportunity to take care of unfinished business and to say goodbye to the people they love.”
Lou reached up and touched his cheek. “Oh, Brody, I had no idea.”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed the backs of her fingers gently. “It’s going to be okay. I have been expecting this for a while but it sure doesn’t make it any easier.” He drew in one deep breath, steeling himself. “Let’s go and make sandwiches.”
They worked well in the kitchen, packing a picnic basket with sandwiches, chips, cookies, and drinks. Lou made three sandwiches and placed them in the basket. “You need to make one more,” Brody said around a mouthful of ham.
“Why?”
“Because you’re going with us.” With the look on her face, she expected him to follow the comment with, “Duh,” but he refrained.
“Are you sure you want me to come? Don’t you want to be alone with her for today?”
“Nope. I want what she wants, and she’s going to want you to go. I want you to go, too. Otherwise, I’ll get stuck with Lola if there’s a crisis.” He made a face of horror, probably in hopes of winning her sympathy.
She laughed softly and then hung her head.
He reached over and tipped her chin up, looking into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“It just doesn’t feel right to laugh when your mom is so sick.”
“I’ll make a deal with you.”
“What kind of deal?”
“While she’s alive, we’ll laugh. Then, when she’s gone, we’ll cry.”
“Deal,” Lou replied.
“Deal.” Brody snapped the picnic basket closed and went to stow it in the trunk of the car.
****
Brody found loading the car with picnic supplies was much easier than loading his mother into the car. She was still weak and tired but her mind was clear for the first time in weeks. Brody gently lifted her from the wheelchair and lowered her just as tenderly into the backseat of the car. Lou buckled her seatbelt while Brody put the wheelchair in the trunk. Lola slid into the backseat alongside her and Lou got in front.
She turned around in her seat to look back with a frown on her face. “Are you sure you want to do this, Mrs. Wester. Are you okay?”
“I promise you, dear, that if I get tired, I’ll ask to come home. This short little trip won’t kill me, I’m sure. If it does, I’ll go out happy.”
Lou hid her smile behind her hand. They drove down the winding driveway to the main road and traveled twenty more minutes to the local Baptist church. The church sat on a hill beside a pasture and a pond, and had a fenced family graveyard next door. Brody set up the wheelchair and moved his mother over to the chair while Lola and Lou anxiously hovered. He gently tipped the wheelchair back and smiled into her eyes.