“You hope. We all know how the weather is here. Hot and soaking wet, hot and damp, or hot. I swear, I almost melted on the way from the car into here.” Jane smiled as if the thought amused her. “I almost started to say that line about I’m melting, but didn’t.”
Marie knew she meant a line from the Wizard of Oz. It used to come on television when she was a child, and she remembered it well. “I could just imagine you doing that.”
“I need to get back out in it now,” Jane said suddenly and stood up. “You have my number. Call me if she gets worse, or you need a hand getting her to take the medicine.”
“I will, Jane, and thanks. You’re too good to us.” Marie leaned in to peck Jane on the cheek and the other woman simply smiled as she offered her cheek.
“You deserve all the help you can get, Marie, don’t doubt that.” She squeezed Marie’s shoulders and then left.
Marie sighed heavily and then turned to face the doorway that would take her to her mother’s room. She’d make her mother some gumbo, something soft and simple, she’d like that. Marie started the soup-like meal, and then went back to her mother with a glass of cranberry juice. It took some doing, but she managed to wake her up.
“What do you want, Marie? I don’t feel well. Go to school, already, and leave me alone.”
Marie felt a chill run down her spine when her mother said the oh so familiar words. Words she’d heard so many times as a child, in need of money for lunch or sick herself and in need of care. Now, she was the one doing the caring, and she had to be strong. Firm, certainly, but gentle too. She wanted her mother to know, from now on, that she would not be spoken to like a slave. But that was for when her mother recovered. Right now, she needed to take her medicine.
“Take these, Mom, they’ll help.” Marie had added ibuprofen to take away some of the swelling and pain. It was also the doctor’s orders to do so.
“I can’t take all of those at once,” Ruby moaned at her daughter but took the pills. With a look of defiance, she threw the pills in her mouth, took the bottle of water Marie offered her, and swallowed. “There.”
Marie smirked with amusement when her mother stuck her tongue out and moved it around to show she’d swallowed the pills. Sometimes, not often, but every now and then, her mother’s rebellious streak made her laugh. “Good girl.”
“What’s for dinner? Is that gumbo?” Ruby looked up at Marie suspiciously. “You only make me that when I’m ill.”
“But you are ill, Mom. Very ill. Now lie back and let me check your skin.” Marie grabbed a pair of gloves and examined her mother’s skin once again, and soon found everything to be fine. “Good, relax now. I’ll bring the gumbo in when it’s done.”
“Thank you.” Ruby looked as surprised as Marie felt. Had her mother actually thanked her?
“You’re welcome, Mom,” Marie uttered before she went through the doorway and into the dark hall covered with a dark shade of green carpet. The carpet ran into most of the rooms in the house, except for the kitchen and Marie’s room. Marie preferred the bare floors to the carpet and had taken it up when she was a teenager. With her mother’s permission, of course.
She added a few things to the gumbo, checked the flavor, and then sat down with a book to read as she listened to the radio. Her mother would be asleep in minutes, so she settled down to let the food cook.
She liked to read anything, but lately, she’d started to read thrillers. They kept her on the edge of her seat and gave her an opportunity to live an exciting life, that was, well, thrilling. Her life was so boring and mundane, sometimes awful, and the books helped her to escape into a new life that she could never imagine on her own.
A smell filled the air, one that Marie was all too familiar with. Her mother had an accident. And not one that she could wipe away with a single wipe either. The smell was terrible, and by the time she’d finished cleaning up the mess, a mess her mother couldn’t help, she no longer felt like eating.
Her mother did, though, so she made her a bowl, and fed it to her. By the time the bowl was empty, her mother was asleep again. Marie took a shower, put on a clean nightgown, and went to bed without dinner. She’d put the gumbo in the fridge, and she’d have it for lunch tomorrow. Tonight, her stomach wasn’t interested in eating at all.
7
“Why is it so hot in here?” Jane inquired as she came into Ruby’s bedroom.
“The air conditioner died last night, and I don’t have the money to get a new one. Even if I did have the money, I couldn’t leave her to go buy one.” Marie had been fanning her mother with a paper fan she’d made but stopped now that Jane was there. “I brought the fan in, but Mom’s still sweating. I don’t think those antibiotics are working.”
“It’s only been a couple of days, let’s give it a little while longer,” Jane said thoughtfully as she moved closer to the bed. “I might know someone that has an extra air conditioner they don’t need. Let me ask them while you’re gone, and if they’ll let you have it, I’ll bring it by later on.”
“Really? That would be so… wonderful!” Marie’s smile was almost beatific as she beamed at Jane. “I’ve been so worried about her all night long, I barely slept.”
“Well, go out, relax for a little bit, and don’t worry. I’ll see if we can get this sorted.” Jane’s reassurance that all was under control eased Marie’s mind.
Throughout the night she’d panicked over the fact that her mother didn’t seem to be improving, and the fact that the air conditioner wouldn’t work. She’d tried and tried but couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the machine that simply refused to come on. She’d finally given up, brought in the fan from her room, and made another fan out of paper to wave over her mother. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
Marie got up from the chair that had once been covered in a red velvet-like material but was now faded and patched. It was a soft, comfortable chair, and Marie refused to give it up for that reason. It made the hours she spent at her mother’s bedside a little more comfortable, why should she replace it?
“I’ll go clean up and head out for a bit. Thanks, Jane.” Marie brushed her fingers over Jane’s shoulder in gratitude as she walked out.
A short while later, she was seated at the café with a cup of café au lait, her beignets, and a book. She was too tired to read, and the way the sun slanted on the pages made it a chore to see the words, but she tried because it was one of her favorite things to do. Today, she didn’t have to go to the store or pick up a prescription, all she had to do was relax. Only she couldn’t.
Her mother’s condition weighed on her like a 2-ton weight. What would she do if her mother didn’t improve? She felt like a yo-yo, being pulled by a child that had never pulled one before. She was jerked in one direction only to be thrown in another direction before she was jerked back into the same direction. Then she just sort of flailed around, with no direction at all. Which was where she was right now. She had no idea what to do, or who to talk to. There was always Jane, but she felt bad for burdening the woman with her problems.