Turning Tables ✔

Part 3

JENNIE

I had inspected every front yard on my block when I got a call on my cell phone. I looked down to see my mother's number pop up on the screen.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hi, honey, are you home?"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. I went to look for Lyla again. You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

"No problem, I was just wondering where you were," she said in a hoarse voice. "When will you be back?"

"I'm coming back right now," I answered. I would have stayed out longer looking, but my mom needed me and was too polite to say so. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well, I'm a little nauseated. Maybe some ginger tea?"

"Absolutely. I'll be back in a few minutes and get started on that."

"Thank you, sweetie," my mom said softly.

"Not a problem, see you soon."

I kept my eyes peeled on the way home, but I knew I wasn't going to find her. Fuck, was I ever going to find her? Losing this poor kitten was making me feel like more of a failure. It wasn't helping my self-esteem.

As soon as I walked through the door, I went to the kitchen and put the teapot on the kettle before I got to chopping up ginger for my mom. This was the one thing that seemed to calm her nausea.

I made up a cup and then took it to her room. She was lying in her bed, as she had been all week. She got up to go to the bathroom, but that was the extent of her out of bed activities. If she needed anything, me or my dad got it for her.

Mostly me, actually, since my dad had been forced to work overtime lately to make ends meet. My family had always been a two salary household, with my mom being a school teacher and my dad working in construction.

We never were poor growing up; between the two of them they made good money and I never wanted for anything. But now that my mom couldn't work and the medical bills were piling up, my father had to put in all the overtime he could get.

"Hey, Mom," I said softly as I opened her door.

"Hi, sweetie," she said in a miserable voice, though it was obvious she was trying to stay perky.

"I've got your tea." I set it down on her bedside table and then sat on the bed next to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Not so well," she said hoarsely.

"Is there anything else I can get you? Some soup, maybe?" I asked.

"No, definitely not. I can't stomach any food right now."

"Ugh, I hate seeing you like this," I said softly.

I had been kicking myself for not coming home earlier. I should have spent time with my parents when things were better. I should have been there for them when they were all healthy and we could actually enjoy our time together. Instead I had to be a fucking asshole who didn't bother coming home until shit got bad.

"The doctor says I'll start feeling better in a few weeks," she said softly. "Not completely better but... a big improvement. I should be able to eat just fine, and get around the house."

"I really hope so. I want you better. Here, drink your tea." I offered.

"Okay," she said as she used all her energy to prop herself up in bed. She took a few sips and then gave me a hesitant look.

"What? What is it?" I asked.

"In a few weeks, when I'm feeling better, you'll be returning to your home, right?"