Ten
As time passed, the conversations with her mother became increasingly surreal, and clearly revealed that Kathy had lost touch with the inevitability of her mother’s rapidly approaching demise. She would call in the morning, flush with excitement.
“I saw a segment on the news about a new experimental treatment that I think could help Mom,” she would say. Sarah tried to point out to her that Dottie was too far gone for experimental anything, and even if she wasn’t, what exactly did Kathy think was the source of the problem? “I think it might be some form of fibromyalgia,” she would say one day. Another day was cancer. Yet another was a parasitic infection, or mad cow disease.
One day, Sarah lost patience. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe she’s dying of plain old ordinary failure? Old age?”
“She’s not dying,” Kathy said. “She just needs the right treatment.”
“Oh for god’s sake, Mom. She’s dying. It’s clear to everyone but you. This isn’t reversible unless you have a time machine and can head back a few years.”
“I don’t understand why you’re giving up,” Kathy said. “I didn’t raise you to be a quitter.”
“This isn’t about quitting, Mom. It’s about being realistic. And the reality is that she’s dying.”
“We’re all dying, Sarah,” her mother said pointedly. “It’s just a matter of when.”
“Yes, I understand that, but you do have to understand that her time is much closer than others. It’s obvious.”
“It’s nothing of the kind,” Kathy said. “I know that with the right doctor….”
Sarah could take no more. “Mom, I have to go. I have a meeting.”
“Are you angry with me?”
“No, just frustrated as hell.”
“Why?”
Sarah had a list of frustrations a mile long, but didn’t have the time or patience to list them. “It doesn’t matter right now. I have to go or I’ll be late.”
“Ok, I’ll call you back later.” Today it sounded more like a threat than a promise. She got up from her desk, headed for the ladies’ room and sat in the stall, trying meditative yoga breathing to calm herself. But the breathing only served to sound like she was doing something illicit behind the locked door. She emerged from the restroom feeling exhausted and defeated, a winning combination for a Monday morning.
She met Jared in the hall on her way back to her cube. He could instantly see that whatever had happened that morning was not a laughing matter. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “It’s ok, Sares. It’ll be ok.” His open display of caring and affection caught her so off guard that she began to cry, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. He shuffled her into the kitchenette to give her some privacy.
“She doesn’t…” Sarah began.
“Shhhh. I know. It’s nothing new.”
“So why does it bother me so much today?” Sarah asked between sobs. “Why do I care that she’s being completely unreasonably optimistic?”
“Because you love her and you know how hard she’s going to fall. Because you want her to set her hopes lower because you don’t want to see her crushed.”
Sarah blotted at her tears with a coarse brown paper towel. “But I know that there’s nothing that I can do.”
“Knowing that you can’t help doesn’t change the fact that you hate that you can’t.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” she asked.
“Years of therapy.”
Sarah snorted. “I’m glad that your years of therapy are finally paying off for me.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled, waved a finger as if to tell her to wait, then darted out of the kitchen. He returned with a box of tissues. “These have to be better for your face than those sheets of sandpaper.”
“Yeah, but they don’t exfoliate in quite the same way.” She finally cracked a smile as she said it.
The days went on like this for weeks. Some days were good, some bad, but Sarah never fully let go of her quest to convince her mother that her grandmother was dying. Kathy, on the other hand, was hearing none of it. She bought medicinal herbs and special teas to help nurse her mother back to health, but Dottie continued to weaken. Sarah remained amazed by how far the human body could deteriorate before the soul or life force or whatever it was that kept you breathing finally gave way.
Kathy had been at Dottie’s house on a full-time basis for six months when she called Sarah one Tuesday.
“Hello?” Sarah began.
“She can’t have my jewelry.”
Sarah was confused. “What?”
“She can’t have my jewelry.”
“What? Who?”
“Your father’s new wife.”
Sarah stopped for a moment. “New wife? What’s happening to his old wife?”
“Just promise me that she can’t have my jewelry.”
“Why would she want it? You don’t have anything of value.”
“She’ll give it to her girls. They’re young enough not to know better.”
“Who’s young enough?” Sarah practically shouted. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father is having an affair.”
Sarah scoffed. “Get out. You’ve been watching too much daytime television.” Kathy did not respond. “What makes you think he’s having an affair?” She heard Jared pop up out of his chair and scurry to her doorway to listen in.
“I just know. She’s younger.”
Sarah tried to play it off with sarcasm. “Well, sure she is. Nobody has an affair with an older woman. Not at Dad’s age.”
“Just promise me—promise me—that you won’t let her have any of it. Throw it away if you have to, but don’t let her have it.”
“Ok,” Sarah said hesitantly.
“Promise!”
“Ok, I promise.”
“Good. Grandma needs me. I have to go.”
Sarah sat there with her headset on, long after her mother had hung up the phone. Jared waited patiently.
“Is she serious?” she asked him.
“You tell me. They’re your parents.”
“I can’t really imagine my father taking the time, and yet she seems so completely certain….”
“Are you sure that it’s not too much daytime television?” Jared asked.
“I asked that, but it seemed to offend her.”
“Geez, wonder why?” Jared said sarcastically.
Sarah thought about it. Who on earth would he have an affair with? Did she know the woman? Did she know anyone with young girls? How young was this younger woman? Three years? Five? Fifteen? She shook her head. She didn’t really believe any of this, did she?
“Well, do you believe her?” Jared asked.
“No, not at all,” she replied. “Mostly. You know, because I’ve known my father for 30 years and he just doesn’t seem like… wow, do you really think that he’s cheating?”
“I can’t answer that for you.”
“Why the hell not? You have an answer for everything else.”
“Sorry, this is outside my area of expertise,” Jared admitted. “I try to stick with the love lives and family relationships of the under-35 crowd, not the AARP crowd.”
“What good are you?” she asked.
“None whatsoever.” He retreated to his cubicle and left her tapping a highlighter against the edge of the desk, staring into space and wondering if anything that her mother said was possibly grounded in reality. She was increasingly retreating into her own little universe, and it seemed plausible that her mother’s capacity for clear, objective thought was vanishing as well. And yet… there was a grain of the story that stuck with Sarah, and she kept coming back to it, rubbing it around like an oyster creating a pearl. The pearl grew larger and larger with each passing day until it threatened to overwhelm her. And yet, from that day forward, her mother never again mentioned the accusation. Whether it was a moment’s passing speculation or something more, Sarah didn’t know. She simply wished that if there was large doubt-provoking information out there, that her mother would keep it to herself unless she was certain enough to take action on it and clarify her position once and for all.
“I saw a segment on the news about a new experimental treatment that I think could help Mom,” she would say. Sarah tried to point out to her that Dottie was too far gone for experimental anything, and even if she wasn’t, what exactly did Kathy think was the source of the problem? “I think it might be some form of fibromyalgia,” she would say one day. Another day was cancer. Yet another was a parasitic infection, or mad cow disease.
One day, Sarah lost patience. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe she’s dying of plain old ordinary failure? Old age?”
“She’s not dying,” Kathy said. “She just needs the right treatment.”
“Oh for god’s sake, Mom. She’s dying. It’s clear to everyone but you. This isn’t reversible unless you have a time machine and can head back a few years.”
“I don’t understand why you’re giving up,” Kathy said. “I didn’t raise you to be a quitter.”
“This isn’t about quitting, Mom. It’s about being realistic. And the reality is that she’s dying.”
“We’re all dying, Sarah,” her mother said pointedly. “It’s just a matter of when.”
“Yes, I understand that, but you do have to understand that her time is much closer than others. It’s obvious.”
“It’s nothing of the kind,” Kathy said. “I know that with the right doctor….”
Sarah could take no more. “Mom, I have to go. I have a meeting.”
“Are you angry with me?”
“No, just frustrated as hell.”
“Why?”
Sarah had a list of frustrations a mile long, but didn’t have the time or patience to list them. “It doesn’t matter right now. I have to go or I’ll be late.”
“Ok, I’ll call you back later.” Today it sounded more like a threat than a promise. She got up from her desk, headed for the ladies’ room and sat in the stall, trying meditative yoga breathing to calm herself. But the breathing only served to sound like she was doing something illicit behind the locked door. She emerged from the restroom feeling exhausted and defeated, a winning combination for a Monday morning.
She met Jared in the hall on her way back to her cube. He could instantly see that whatever had happened that morning was not a laughing matter. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “It’s ok, Sares. It’ll be ok.” His open display of caring and affection caught her so off guard that she began to cry, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. He shuffled her into the kitchenette to give her some privacy.
“She doesn’t…” Sarah began.
“Shhhh. I know. It’s nothing new.”
“So why does it bother me so much today?” Sarah asked between sobs. “Why do I care that she’s being completely unreasonably optimistic?”
“Because you love her and you know how hard she’s going to fall. Because you want her to set her hopes lower because you don’t want to see her crushed.”
Sarah blotted at her tears with a coarse brown paper towel. “But I know that there’s nothing that I can do.”
“Knowing that you can’t help doesn’t change the fact that you hate that you can’t.”
“Where do you come up with this stuff?” she asked.
“Years of therapy.”
Sarah snorted. “I’m glad that your years of therapy are finally paying off for me.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled, waved a finger as if to tell her to wait, then darted out of the kitchen. He returned with a box of tissues. “These have to be better for your face than those sheets of sandpaper.”
“Yeah, but they don’t exfoliate in quite the same way.” She finally cracked a smile as she said it.
The days went on like this for weeks. Some days were good, some bad, but Sarah never fully let go of her quest to convince her mother that her grandmother was dying. Kathy, on the other hand, was hearing none of it. She bought medicinal herbs and special teas to help nurse her mother back to health, but Dottie continued to weaken. Sarah remained amazed by how far the human body could deteriorate before the soul or life force or whatever it was that kept you breathing finally gave way.
Kathy had been at Dottie’s house on a full-time basis for six months when she called Sarah one Tuesday.
“Hello?” Sarah began.
“She can’t have my jewelry.”
Sarah was confused. “What?”
“She can’t have my jewelry.”
“What? Who?”
“Your father’s new wife.”
Sarah stopped for a moment. “New wife? What’s happening to his old wife?”
“Just promise me that she can’t have my jewelry.”
“Why would she want it? You don’t have anything of value.”
“She’ll give it to her girls. They’re young enough not to know better.”
“Who’s young enough?” Sarah practically shouted. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father is having an affair.”
Sarah scoffed. “Get out. You’ve been watching too much daytime television.” Kathy did not respond. “What makes you think he’s having an affair?” She heard Jared pop up out of his chair and scurry to her doorway to listen in.
“I just know. She’s younger.”
Sarah tried to play it off with sarcasm. “Well, sure she is. Nobody has an affair with an older woman. Not at Dad’s age.”
“Just promise me—promise me—that you won’t let her have any of it. Throw it away if you have to, but don’t let her have it.”
“Ok,” Sarah said hesitantly.
“Promise!”
“Ok, I promise.”
“Good. Grandma needs me. I have to go.”
Sarah sat there with her headset on, long after her mother had hung up the phone. Jared waited patiently.
“Is she serious?” she asked him.
“You tell me. They’re your parents.”
“I can’t really imagine my father taking the time, and yet she seems so completely certain….”
“Are you sure that it’s not too much daytime television?” Jared asked.
“I asked that, but it seemed to offend her.”
“Geez, wonder why?” Jared said sarcastically.
Sarah thought about it. Who on earth would he have an affair with? Did she know the woman? Did she know anyone with young girls? How young was this younger woman? Three years? Five? Fifteen? She shook her head. She didn’t really believe any of this, did she?
“Well, do you believe her?” Jared asked.
“No, not at all,” she replied. “Mostly. You know, because I’ve known my father for 30 years and he just doesn’t seem like… wow, do you really think that he’s cheating?”
“I can’t answer that for you.”
“Why the hell not? You have an answer for everything else.”
“Sorry, this is outside my area of expertise,” Jared admitted. “I try to stick with the love lives and family relationships of the under-35 crowd, not the AARP crowd.”
“What good are you?” she asked.
“None whatsoever.” He retreated to his cubicle and left her tapping a highlighter against the edge of the desk, staring into space and wondering if anything that her mother said was possibly grounded in reality. She was increasingly retreating into her own little universe, and it seemed plausible that her mother’s capacity for clear, objective thought was vanishing as well. And yet… there was a grain of the story that stuck with Sarah, and she kept coming back to it, rubbing it around like an oyster creating a pearl. The pearl grew larger and larger with each passing day until it threatened to overwhelm her. And yet, from that day forward, her mother never again mentioned the accusation. Whether it was a moment’s passing speculation or something more, Sarah didn’t know. She simply wished that if there was large doubt-provoking information out there, that her mother would keep it to herself unless she was certain enough to take action on it and clarify her position once and for all.
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