When Italia Knight suddenly decides to pack up her entire life in a suitcase and travel miles and miles away from home, she encounters someone during her travels who makes her see life in a whole new perspective. A perspective that will change her l...
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The week goes by fairly slow but today was Friday, and I hadn't heard anything from Michael about my mom. I pick up my phone and dial his number. "Hello?"
"Michael, hey", I say as I fix the bed. "Hey sweetheart, I'm glad you called"
"Oh? And why is that?", I ask him. I hear him sigh, something he's done a lot this past week. "Well we went for her mammogram"
"Did you get the results?", I ask him nervously. "No, they said it'll take a week or two for them to send us the results or call us", he says. I sit on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hand. "Seriously? Well, how is she doing today?"
"Well she's stopped throwing up today, but she doesn't look any better. She hasn't been able to get out of bed since I first called you to tell you she was sick". I nod my head. "Can I talk to her?", I ask him, my eyes watering. "Only for a little bit, okay? She needs to rest". I hear him moving around and mumble something before the phone is passed on. "Hello?", a weak voice says. It takes everything in me not to cry as I hear my mother's frail voice. I compose myself, trying to put up a strong front for her. "Hey momma, I miss you"
"Italia, sweetheart! How are you doing?", she says and from the tone of her voice, I can tell she's smiling. "I'm doing okay, what about you?"
"I think you know. You and your father aren't as sneaky as you think you are", she laughs but it turns into a harsh cough. "I know", I sigh. "How are you feeling today? Any better?"
"Do you want the truth or the lie?", she asks me seriously. "Truth"
"It's not looking good, sweetheart. You know I'm not one to get sick", she says. "I can come home, and keep you company while Michael goes to work", I suggest. "Are you crazy?", she answers back. I laugh as I picture her face right now. "Yes, next question"
"No way! I'm fine. I've got this under control. A child shouldn't have to worry about her mother. A mother should have to worry about her child", she says. I walk into the bathroom and open the light as I look at myself in the mirror. "Well that's just wrong. I always worry about you", I answer back. "I'm okay, Italia. If it was really bad I'd tell you to come home, you know I would". I know she's right, but mom's can lie too. "Okay, but you better tell me if you want me to come home. I won't hesitate to get on the next flight to Canada"
"I will, Koala"
"No, not that nickname!", I groan. I hear her laugh. "You'll learn to appreciate it when I'm gone"
"Mom, don't talk like that. You're going to be here for a long time".
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I shouldn't have said that". I wipe my eyes, "No you shouldn't have. I love you mom, always"
