Amabel's POV
So today is the day to visit my mom. I have no classes today and I just finished my shift at the café. I had difficulty deciding on what to wear, so I wore light blue skinny jeans, my cream-colored sandals with flowers of the same color on top and a plain light blue top.
"Hi, Bells," Laurel, the receptionist, greeted me at the hospital. The staff knew me as a regular visitor. "Hi, Laurel. How're you doing today?"
"Oh me? You know, keep going on. Can't stand still and watch as time goes by. How's school? You still working?" I really wanted to chat with Laurel, but I wanted to see my mom too. "School's going good. I'm almost done. One more year, thank goodness. And I am still working at the café. Shifts are tough to push in between classes, but I have a schedule worked out. Is my mom in her bedroom?" I asked, trying to rush the conversation. "Yes. Go on, I think she's waiting for you..." I gave her a light smile and nod before walking away.
I walked down these familiar halls. I stopped for a moment and saw flashes of my times walking in these cold, empty and colorless halls since I was a child. Before entering my mom's room, I took a deep breath. I'm trying to figure out the conversation without me leaving my mom and me both in tears. I had enough of crying. It made me feel weak, vulnerable. And I hated that feeling. I still do.
Keeping my "cool", as Gwen would say, I filled my lungs with more than enough air, smelling like medicine and sanitizer, made a left and knocked on the door and went inside. "Hey, mom. How are you today?" The room was on the left side of the halls. She still had her orchids in the upper left corner. Her bed was on the right side, facing the left wall where the television hung.
Her room had a big window where she could look out to the ocean, feel the breeze of the morning air on her face. Amabel bought her mom light pink curtains to give the room a bit of a feeling of home.
As soon as Mom saw me, she sat up straight in her bed and opened her arms. She held my head close to her heart and smelled my hair. I guess the familiar smell of the ocean shampoo in my hair never got old to her.
"I'm doing okay. How was school? Your shifts at the café, they're not interrupting your classes, are they?" For a brief moment, I didn't know what to say. But I had to think quickly to not give Mom another thing to worry about.
"School's good. Yeah. My shifts and classes are at different times on a schedule I made. Luckily nothing is mixing," I lied. I had to lie as much as I hated it, I had to. But it was for the best. Classes and shifts sometimes happened at the same time. I wanted to finish my studies, but I couldn't do it without working. I wanted to work to pay for my mom. She's all I have left.
"Well, that's good. Right?" Mom smiled and took my hand in her small and fragile one.
"Yes, yes it's great. Oh, and Gwen and I are still living together and..." I continued to talk. I wanted to tell her everything, but before I could, Mom interrupted. "Bells. Wait," she sighed and then continued, "I don't want you to keep spending money on me. You have a life. Pay for your apartment, or go get a pizza every now and then. You have no idea how much it means to me that you're taking care of me, but that's my job. I need to provide for you. Just think about how much money you can save without wasting it on me and how many things you can buy for yourself."
"But, Mom. If I'm not going to take care of you, then who will? All you have left is me. Dad died and I'm the only one who's been at your side. I keep my grades up to keep my scholarship and I work to pay my month's rent and for you. Mom, I'm not going to let you live in pain. If it means I have to get three jobs, then I will. All my life, you've taken care of me, now let me return the favor. Please?" My mom and I both knew that I took care of us all my life.
She took a deep breath and forced it out of her lungs. Then someone knocked on the door. "Come in," Mom said. We turned to face the door as Laurel came in with a tray in her hands with tea and Mom's meds. "Here you go, Emily. It's time for your meds," she said and then faced me, "Oh, uh, Amabel? Can I see you for a moment, outside please?" I gave a quick nod, stood up from the bed and walked with her. Laurel closed the door and I followed her to the waiting room.
The chairs with red cushions were placed in rows, with a few plants in the corners of the room. The big window was across the reception counter. There were three coffee tables in different areas and a coffee machine next to the counter. Laurel sat on one of the chairs and patted on the seat next to her for me to sit.
"Is everything okay?" I asked. I was starting to freak out. Laurel didn't say a single word for an entire two minutes.
"Your mom's doctors want to talk to you about her meds' financial states," she finally said.
"Okay. I know I'm a bit behind this month, but I'm working and I get paid this Friday and..."
I wanted to explain further when I got cut off. "Hold on, Amabel. It's not that you need to pay. It's about something else. As you know, your mom doesn't have much longer and the doctors say that she might not make it two more months and they..."
Mom... All I could think about was Mom. What am I going to do without her? I know that I didn't really have her as a mom, but she was there when I wanted to talk to her about this boy that I liked and about the time I spilled ice cream on Gwen. Who am I going to talk to?
"Wait, what? Two months! Why didn't anyone tell me that? I'm her ICE contact."
"Her doctors told her and we thought she was going to give you the news because she asked us not to say anything to you. She wanted to tell you herself and..."
Laurel kept talking but I seriously didn't hear a single thing. Her voice was still recognizable, but not understandable. It's like everything tuned out until the only thing I could hear was my heart beating and beating.
I got up and ran to her room and stormed in there. "Why didn't you tell me? Why! You have two months left to live and you didn't think to tell me? That's why you don't want me to pay anymore... They say that you have been refusing treatments. Treatments that I paid for! I worked my ass off for that money and you're not even using it!"
As soon as I said those words, I regretted it in an instant. I didn't want to make my mom feel worse, but I feel like I had the right to know. I had the right to know that in two months, I would be an orphan. Anger rose inside of me and I didn't know how to get it out. So, I kept screaming.