Yes, I know she’s those things. It keeps me up at night.
If Taylor and Poppy are surprised by this knowledge, they don’t let on, and it makes me adore them even more.
I clear my throat. “She got addicted to pills after two surgeries for her spine that didn’t work.”
He nods as if he’s heard similar stories before. “The last time she came in, about a month ago . . .” He looks down at his chart and I sit up straighter.
I hadn’t known she was here.
He continues. “We mentioned other medical issues she might have, but she refused further testing and left.”
My mind scrambles to keep up. “What other issues?”
“She’s been having fainting spells, headaches, blurred vision. Some could be attributed to the addiction, but we suspected hypertension . . .” He pauses. “You knew none of this?”
I shake my head. “I don’t . . . where’s my mother? She’s not—”
“She’s in ICU.”
I lean closer to Taylor, who tightens his arm around me.
“When she arrived today with a severe headache, we performed an MRI. Your mother sustained a hemorrhagic stroke or an intracerebral hemorrhage. This is where one of her blood vessels ruptured, causing blood to accumulate in the area around the rupture. This puts pressure on the brain. Only half of people who sustain an ICH survive. Most are left with a significant disability.” I hear the warning in his tone. She could die.
“I’m sorry . . . what does all that mean?”
“First, she’s lucky she got here. We got to her quickly and she’s currently in a medically induced coma. We’re going to perform surgery to alleviate the swelling.”
I nod rapidly. “Yes, whatever it takes.”
He pulls out a picture of a human brain and points to different areas with his pen as he talks about where the hemorrhage is and how he plans to fix it.
After he’s done, I can barely breathe. “Can I see her? Please.”
He rises. “Come this way.”
Poppy and Taylor stay behind as I follow him behind two double doors and into an elevator. We get off on the third floor and pass a hub where several doctors and nurses are.
Her room is dark except for a light over her bed. There’s a bedside table and two chairs, one a recliner. The irony isn’t lost on me. This is the nicest place she’s been in a while.
An IV is hooked up and machines beep with her heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen. Her eyes are closed, but she doesn’t look peaceful; she looks awful and so very frail.
I take her hand. “Mom. It’s Julia. I’m here.” I lean my face close to hers. “Please. Be okay . . .” My voice breaks.
A few minutes later, a nurse comes in, her smile kind. “Dear. I’m sorry. But you’ll have to go now.”
I whisper in her ear that I love her and kiss her cheek.
Poppy and Taylor have moved up to a waiting room on the same floor. They take one look at me and tears burst out of me.
They wrap their arms around me and ask how she is as I reply in broken sentences. I explain about the failed surgeries, how she lost her job and our home. We sit down on a couch and I tell them about Connor.
Poppy squeezes my hand. “Oh, Julia. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. I mean, we figured something was wrong, but you never wanted to talk about it.”
I nod. “I was too embarrassed to tell you. And now this . . .”
Taylor pets my hair. “We’re here for you. We’re here. That’s the important part.”
“The surgery’s going to be in the morning.” The nurse has followed and waits patiently as I ease away from my friends. “You should go home, get some rest, and come back.”
“What time?” I ask.
“Six. We’ll let you see her before she goes back.”
Taylor smiles. “I can bring you.”
We leave the hospital and get back in his car as my head spins.
I lean against the window and think about her splashing with me in the ocean.
Her giggles when she lit candles on tea cookies.
Even if she never gets clean, I still need my mom.
When we pull up at the house, Eric stands on the steps of the porch. He looks like he’s been there a while. Geeze. It’s nearly two in the morning.
Taylor sighs. “Want me to get rid of him?”
I push open the door. “You two go inside. I’ll do it.”
I approach him, then stop. Tension swirls around him as he leans against the railing as if it’s holding him up. His eye is half-swollen shut, his jawline has a purple bruise, and there’s a spot of blood on his temple.
“Looking kind of rough,” Poppy says tartly as she passes him and goes inside.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “What happened?”
“A fight with the Kappas.”