How To Save You

Step Eighteen: Meet My Mom

I was in shock, but thankfully I had learnt to cover up well. I strung a tight lipped smile on my face to avoid gasping, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and graciously said hello. I didn't say anything about what an awful shape she was in, or how it looked like she would stop breathing any minute.

"How are you?" I asked, and then immediately felt bad about it. The woman was obviously dying and I was making small talk.

"Elijah Singer, am I right?" She pointed at me, her blue eyes twinkling.

I nodded. There was an awkward silence as I desperately tried to think of something to say. There was something so wrong about illness. The room whole room, although scrubbed and vacuumed to perfection, had a certain stink to it. It wasn't something you could smell, but you felt it crawling across your skin. My whole spine was rigid, my hands clenched into fists in my pocket. I had never been so uncomfortable.

"Well, come closer then," Mrs Walker demanded.

My legs moved bupefore I could process that I needed to get out of there. There was a small red armchair with a blanket thrown over the armrest. I decided to perch on there, being very careful not to touch any of the machinery around Mrs Walker.

"Sorry about all of this... I imagine you're very shocked, although you're covering up remarkably well," Mrs Walker told me.

She was all bones. I had never seen anyone look so brittle. It was like I could lean over and snap her arm in two. You could see traces of the beauty she had used to possess. Her blue eyes were almost as blue as Adri's, her mouth, although dry and cracked, was still full and still crooked up in a small smile.

I shrugged simply, not knowing what else to say.

"Stomach cancer, stage five. Only a few months left," Mrs Walker said breezily, forcing a smile onto her face.

"I'm so sorry," I said instantly, not knowing what else to say.

Another horrible pause took over the room. Adri was still standing by the door, chewing her lip anxiously.

"Adrienne, are you just going to stand there? I thought you were cleaning upstairs," Mrs Walker raised her eyebrows.

"Mom, I'm just going to let Elijah out..."

"Oh hush, he's having a ball. Now make Elijah a coffee," Mrs Walker brushes her off and turned to smile at me.

I suppressed a laugh at seeing Adri so flustered, unable to hide her irritation at being commanded. Adri disappeared from the room and I turned back to Mrs Walker.

"Where's Mr Walker?" I asked.

Mrs Walker looked at her hand and the tubes sticking into it. Her shoulders sagged together a little and I noticed the pile of unopened letters on the coffee table.

"Victor and I separated when I was first diagnosed. I believe he's now living with a twenty year old," Mrs Walkers lip curled in disgust, "I have no idea where he is! and neither does Adrienne. As you can tell, she doesn't read his letters."

Jesus Christ, did Adri look after her mother by herself? I imagined having to be alone all day, surrounded by people you didn't like, a social outcast, and coming home to see your mother dying a slow death in front of you. Imagined having a father leave you and your sick mother for a twenty year old woman. And on top of that, having a crippling depression.

I found it hard to swallow suddenly, my body stiff and uncomfortable. Adri had no one. She was all alone with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"She doesn't have it easy," her mother said quietly.

An understatement. I thought inwardly. Adri came back into the room, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. As she leant over me, I saw her tip the cup ever so slightly. A few drops of scalding hot coffee dropped onto my leg and I yelped in pain.