her, keeping an eye on her. Immy is with me, watching television. I usually wouldn’t put her in this situation, but Tina had to go out of town with her husband, Chase, so I had no choice but to bring her with me.
I’m trying to keep her as far away from the horror that Mom is experiencing the best I can, but I’m growing more and more concerned for Mom. She looks awful and has been vomiting for the last hour. She keeps reassuring me it’s normal and that it happens every few days, but I come and visit her every day and I’ve never seen her like this. Her skin has a grayish tinge, her eyes are sunken, and she is so skinny I’m concerned.
“Let me take you to the hospital and get you checked out, Mom,” I say, wiping her face with a cool, damp washer.
“So they can tell me the obvious,” she croaks. “I’m dying, sweetheart, and nothing anyone does can change that.”
Tears burn under my eyelids. “Yes, but they said . . . there was more time . . . you probably just have a bug.”
She takes my face with one of her hands and stokes her thumb over my cheek. “We’ve talked about this; there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’ll all be okay.”
“But . . .”
I don’t get to finish my sentence because she doubles over again. I lift the bucket by the couch quickly, placing it in front of her so she can throw up into it. This time, tiny strands of blood go in and panic squeezes my chest. That’s not right. I have to take her to the hospital.
“I’m taking you to get checked out. You either let me or I’ll call an ambulance.”
She can’t protest, because she’s lying back groaning in pain. I stand and rush into the room where Immy is watching television. “Come on, sweetheart, we need to take Nanna to the hospital.”
“I don’t wanna go to the hospital, Momma!” she cries.
Immy doesn’t cope well waiting for hours at the hospital. Usually I give her to Tina or Pippa when I take Mom in, but today they’re both unavailable.
“I know, but no one else is around. I have to take her. Come on, baby, don’t make this hard.”
“I don’t wanna go!” she cries.
She’s figured out tantrums in the last six months. They told me they’d stop at four. They lied. She is as fiery as me and Max combined, and if she doesn’t want to do something, she lets the entire world know it.
“You’re coming, end of story.”
She throws herself onto the ground, screeching. Shaking my head, I run back out to check on Mom. She’s got her eyes closed, and she’s clammy. Dammit. I need to call an ambulance. I dial 911 and tell the operator what’s happening with her. They assure me someone is on the way, and will be less than five minutes. I try to gather up Immy again but she starts screaming and runs away.
Frustrated and stressed, I focus on Mom. I’ll worry about Immy when the ambulance arrives and I know Mom is safe. I rush back out and see Mom isn’t moving. Panic swells in my chest and I lunge forward, dropping to my knees. “Mom,” I call, shaking her gently. She doesn’t wake up. Tears burst forth and I cry out again, “Mom?”
Nothing.
“What’s wrong with Nanna?” Immy cries, seeing the panic in my eyes.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Shhh, she’s sleeping.”
Immy starts to cry, and I know I can’t let her witness this. I have only one person I can turn to who I know would put their life down to make sure Immy is safe. I have to call Max. She doesn’t know him, but at least with him, I know she’s safe.
“Listen to me sweetheart,” I say, turning her towards me. “Mommy has a friend that you can stay with for a few hours while I take Nanna to the hospital, would you like that?”
She blinks away her tears. “Does he have Despicable Me?”
I smile. She loves that damned movie and those damned tiny yellow creatures. “If not, we can lend him ours. What do you say?”
“Is he very mean?”
I shake my head. “He’s very nice.”
“Okay. I want to go there.”
Immy is used to care, being that I had to work to survive so I could never stay at home full-time with her. She’s social, and she loves company. She’s not afraid of men, so I pray she won’t be afraid