24

Ritz was healing well. The pain was subsiding and she was getting stronger every day. She knew she was feeling better when she started asking the doctor about when she could get her implant back instead of when she would be breathing normally again. The collapsed lung was better, as was her face, which was still tender in places but was beginning to look more like the old Ritz.

The staff at the hospital were growing tired of Ritz's divalike antics. They were looking forward to the day when she got the hell out.

Dr. Grevious came in to tell her that she was less than two days away from going home.

“You're doing so well, Miss Harper, that we're going to spring you from this place,” he said.

Ritz didn't wait for the doctor to give her the green light.

She had already made moves to go back on the air. She'd put the station and her team on notice. And she couldn't be happier. That meant she could get back to being the undisputed Queen of All Media. She could get back to her career.

“So what's the holdup, Doc?” she said.

“We want to make sure that no infection sets in. How's your breathing?”

“It's much better,” Ritz said, taking a deep breath and pretending like it didn't hurt. “I'm doing a hundred percent better.”

“I have some bad news, though,” said the doctor, whose face turned serious.

“What's the matter?!” Ritz didn't really want to hear it. He had just said she could go home. What could be wrong?

“It's your aunt,” he said.

“Aunt Madalyn? I know she's been here. I haven't had a chance to really talk to her.”

“Well, she's been admitted to the hospital,” he said. “I'll bring a wheelchair around to take you to see her.”

“Admitted? What's the matter?!” Ritz said.

“I'm not at liberty to say,” he said. “You should speak to her as soon as you can.”

“Look, you need to tell me what's wrong with my aunt,” Ritz could turn real nasty real quick. “What the fuck is up with this cryptic shit? Just tell me.”

“I can't tell you, but she can if she wants you to know.”

Ritz tried to get out of the bed.

“What room is she in?” she said.

“Miss Harper, please get back in bed,” Dr. Grevious said. “The wheelchair will be here any minute. We don't need a relapse. You need your strength.”

Ritz was tired of people telling her what to do. She wanted to get to her aunt and she was going, period.

Just as she was about to leave the room, a nurse came in with the wheelchair.

“Please take a seat, Miss Harper. Your aunt is one floor up. The nurse will accompany you,” said Dr. Grevious.

Ritz took a seat and rode into the hallway. It was the first time she had been out of her room. It took a minute for Ritz to get used to the bright, hot fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway. She noticed for the first time the officer stationed outside the waiting area of her room. The officer followed her in the wheelchair discreetly.

Ritz hadn't thought of the potential danger she was in until now. And that was only a fleeting thought as she headed into the elevator to see her aunt. She thought about the things her mother had said to her, and how truly sorry she was to allow her ego to stop her from apologizing to her aunt. Aunt Maddie was right. Ritz had gone too far. She just didn't want to hear it. Whatever was wrong with Aunt Maddie, Ritz vowed to herself to be there for her.

Ritz was wheeled off the elevator, entourage in tow, and was led into a room two doors away from the elevator. It was a quiet floor; Ritz noticed that immediately. When she came, her aunt was sleeping. Uncle Cecil was in a chair next to the bed. He appeared to be nodding, too. The first thing Ritz noticed was that her aunt was bald. She hadn't put on her wig. She was too weak for vanity.

“Hey, Unc,” Ritz whispered, not wanting to wake her aunt. “How's she doing?”

Uncle Cecil was a little startled. But he popped right up.

“She's resting, and that's good,” he said. “The coughing fits keep her from sleeping. But the doctors gave her something that pretty much knocks her out.”

“So what's the prognosis?”

Cecil hesitated. Should he tell her, or should Maddie tell her?

“It's not good, Ritzy,” Cecil said. “I'm going to let your aunt tell you.”

“Why won't anybody tell me anything?” Ritz whispered, but it was an angry, screaming whisper. “Uncle Cecil, please tell me what's the matter with Aunt Maddie! Please!”

Madalyn stirred from her sleep. She opened her eyes and saw Ritz at her bedside in a wheelchair.

“Hey, baby girl,” Aunt Maddie croaked.

Cecil saw this as an opportunity to leave the two alone together.

“I'm going to the cafeteria to get a snack,” he said, kissing Madalyn on the forehead and then bending over to kiss Ritz on the cheek. “I need some air. You two behave.”

Madalyn smiled and Ritz playfully rolled her eyes.

“Auntie, what's up?” Ritz asked when they were alone. “What's going on?”

“I'm sick,” Madalyn said.

“I can see that,” Ritz said. “But before you tell me, I want to say something to you.”

She got closer to the bed. She could smell the hospital smell, the disinfectant, the medicinal odors that somehow Ritz couldn't smell in her own room. She hated hospitals. She had avoided them her whole life. Now she was a patient and a visitor.

“I love you, Aunt Maddie. And I am sorry for hanging up on you and saying those mean things. I didn't mean it.”

“Oh yes, you did,” Maddie said, managing a smile.

“Okay, I did mean it. But I never meant to hurt you,” Ritz said.

“Yes, you did, too.”

“Okay, okay. You know me too well, don't you? But you know I never wanted us to go more than a year without talking. That was my fault. But you're pretty stubborn, too. You could have picked up the phone.”

“I could have. And I probably should have, because I am more mature than you are.”

Maddie smiled, then continued. “You'll be just as ‘mature' when you're my age, child. I assumed you would call when you were ready to talk. I wasn't going to push you. You needed that time to feel your way.”

Ritz stared at her.

“Yeah, I felt my way, all right. Right into a hospital room, shot full of holes. That's my excuse. Now, what brings you here?” she asked, reaching up and rubbing the smoothness of her aunt's head. “What happened to all of your beautiful hair?”

Maddie had had beautiful hair. It was her pride and joy. “Good hair,” black folks liked to say about any hair that a comb could run through without getting stuck.

“I have cancer, Ritzy. They ran some tests yesterday and found that it has spread to my lymph nodes.”

“What?!” Ritz screamed. “What does that mean? You're going to be all right, aren't you? There is something they can do, right? I've got the money, Auntie M. Do what you have to do. Buy whatever you need to get better! I'll pay! I'll pay cash!!”

“Ritzy, it doesn't look good, but I'm okay with it all. I didn't take care of myself the way I should have. I was stubborn. I guess that runs in the family. I thought my strength could just whip this thing. I was wrong.”

Ritz winced. Did all of the worrying about Ritz contribute to her aunt's deterioration? Maddie looked terrible. Ritz needed to feel empowered, in control. She had money. She could make sure that her aunt got the best care money could buy. She would make it all better.

“Where is your doctor? I need to talk to someone about this!”

“My doctors in Virginia have been in constant contact with the doctors here,” Madalyn said. “Everybody's doing the best they can.”

“We're going to beat this, Auntie. I know we will. Look at me. I was supposed to be dead. Now they are talking about releasing me this week. When I get out, I'm going to throw a party or something, and I want you there.”

“Forget all of the partying,” Madalyn said. “Focus on a full recovery and don't worry about me. I'm in good hands. I have Cecil. The doctors have been wonderful. Tracee has been here for me.”

“Tracee knows?!”

“She figured it out. And when I ended up here, it confirmed what she already thought. She's been great.”

Ritz didn't say anything. She was jealous that her friend knew more than she did about her own family. Ritz was insanely jealous that Tracee in the last year had developed a better relationship with Ritz's aunt and uncle than Ritz herself.

“There is so much going on, so much to talk about,” Madalyn said, then stopped. She wanted to tell Ritz about Randolph Jordan and her father, but one thing at a time.

Madalyn hoped there would be time.