We fell back asleep, after a shower, until three in the afternoon and then got ready to go visit his mother. Our moods much better than only hours prior. When we got there though, we were shocked to see her looking so poorly.
"Mom! What happened? You're not looking like yourself." Lance rushed to her side, hugging her and looking her over.
Her dark circles under her eyes made you think she had not slept for days. Her skin looked dry and she had more wrinkles than I remembered.
"Well, I don't feel very good today. The treatments have started making me feel sick and I can not do much to try and keep food down either." She informs him weakly, forcing a tired smile. "Hello, Lirael dear. Come give me a hug."
She lifts her fragile and meek arms up and I make haste to hug her, just so she can rest the weight of her limbs around me.
"Evening, Beth." I give her a warm smile and pull a chair up to sit in next to her.
"Lirael, please call me mom. I'd much prefer that." She gives me a pat on the hand and tells Lance to go fetch her some thin soup from the cafeteria, that she'd like to try and eat. Lance nods and heads out.
"So, Beth...Mom," I catch myself, "How are you really doing?" I ask her.
She sighs, tears forming in her eyes, "Not very well, in all honesty. I've got some more time with my boy and that is all that matters." She gives me a tight, forced smile patting my hand that sits on the side railing of her bed.
I take the weight of her words in, my own eyes tearing up, "How much time?"
She sniffles, "No one knows, dear. Could be days, weeks, months? Only the good lord knows when, but I was sure hoping to get to see you two get married and have a grandchild before I went. Alas, that is not my lot in life, I suppose." She grabs a tissue and wipes her eyes and gives me another painful and forced smile.
I get up and hug her again, "I hope you'll get to see that too, Mom." I can't help it as my voice breaks and tears drop from my own eyes, because I really do mean it. This beautiful woman deserves so many more years.
She pats my back, making me pull back to look her in the eyes, "Hush, Lirael. I don't want Lance to know how short a time I have left. I don't want him worrying and being sad while I'm still here. So this stays between us, please?" She begs, holding me in her arms.
I feel uneasy as we part, "This is something he should know, he'll want to spend more time with you though."
She scoffs, "And ruin your trip?! No."
Trip? What trip?
My puzzlement must be showing on my face, because she gasps and covers her mouth.
"Oh shoot, did I spill the beans?"
Lance comes walking in with a cup of chicken noodle from the cafeteria. "Hey, got your soup mom. Careful...it's hot.." He trails off, his head switching between focusing on her and me.
"What did I miss?" He asks.
"Girl talk, son. Now, did you get salt? They make it rather bland here." She sends him back down to the cafeteria and she immediately said to act surprised when it came up. She refused to tell me anything else about a trip. However, she made me promise not to tell Lance what I knew even though I didn't feel right doing so.
Lance came back with salt and some crackers for her soup too. We were able to get her to eat some of the soup but her appetite was just not there. The nurses checked on her every so often, but wouldn't say much on her condition other than the treatments were making her sick and that's why her appearance was so poor.
It was hard for me not to speak up, but I knew tomorrow I could talk to Aman and discuss it with him once he knew that Beth allowed me to know. All of it still left me with an uneasy feeling.
.....
Over the course of the next few weeks, I would visit Beth during my lunch and after work hours. With each passing day, she grew a little brighter. I was able to get her to eat small things throughout our time together, that she was able to keep down. That, along with the nutrient filled IV's she had each day, had her regaining her color and energy that we were hoping for. Aman had informed us both that if she could eat and keep her food down that she had hope for responding to the treatments better and getting some more time.
So together we figured it out. Aman had to get onto the Nurses that they were not to take her food away until her next meal was served so she could access the food as often as needed. So as she started looking better, it helped put Lance's mind at ease. Lance had often been lost in his thoughts lately. He had some cases that he was working that occupied his thoughts at times, but most of them were still focused on his mother.
So Thursday night, after leaving the hospital, he was in a much better mood. His cases were going well, with one earlier today won in their favor and the other case was due for court in the morning tomorrow. He was feeling very confident about it too, that the judge would be ruling in his clients favor.
We're making dinner together, listening to music, being goofy, bumping into each others hips while dancing to the music, singing along with the lyrics we knew, and laughing when we fudged them.
A song by James Art, Say you won't, comes on and Lance pulls me into his arms and starts to dance with me around the island of my kitchen.
"Well this is nice." I can feel my smile only growing wider as he hums along with the lyrics.
"You look as beautiful as ever.." He spins me around and then spins me back into his arms, making me giggle. "Just nice?" He cocks a brow, returning my smile with a bright one of his own, as he pulls me closer to him still dancing to the music.
"It's great." I correct myself, leaning forward and placing a peck on his cheek. I lean back and smell something, burning.
"Dinner!" I break away and take the pan from the stove top and quickly flip the chicken that was browning.
"Is it ruined?" Lance joins me to look at the chicken in the pan.
"Well...." I drawl out, "if you don't mind it a little well done and dry." I laugh at the chicken that's, well, nice and evenly blackened on the one side.
"Blackened chicken isn't actually supposed to be black, you know that right?" Lance snorts, looking at the chicken.
My jaw drops, vexed and annoyed, but also can't help cracking a smile at his mischievous grin. I try to suppress my smile, but it keeps cracking through with a forced breath.
Lance and I both have tight lipped smiles as we begin to snicker and then burst into laughter, like idiots. He was the one who was supposed to be cooking the chicken.
He's such an ass sometimes, but he does make me content. Content and happy.