18
I’ve been sitting on the curb for an hour and a half when I decide to call my mom for the third time. The angry woman in scrubs has already come back to work and a few patients have trickled through the door… none of them was my mom. Her phone rings this time and I’m shocked when she actually answers.
“Hello?” she says.
“Hey… where are you?”
“Did you get my message?”
“Yeah,” I say, “you said you were going for another treatment.”
“I just finished and I’m walking to my car right now.”
I raise an eyebrow. That’s certainly not what I was expecting her to say.
“Oh….”
“Why? I have to stop at the store… did you need something?”
“No… I’m fine.”
“OK… well, I’m at the car. I should go so that I’m not driving and talking…especially after my treatment.”
“Yeah.”
She hangs up without saying so much as another word. At least I don’t think she said anything… I feel numb as I lower the phone from my ear. I just don’t understand what’s going on. My head swims as I try and make sense of it… but I only get more lost. I stand up and call Dex back as I start to walk back in the direction of the apartment. He picks up on the second ring.
“Amy… is everything all right?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Is it your mom?”
“Sort of….”
“What happened?”
“I’m not really sure. I got off the phone with you earlier… I walked to the clinic because I wanted to talk to her and she wasn’t answering her phone. When I got there a woman was locking the doors for lunch. My mom just now answered her phone and said she was leaving the treatment center and walking to her car. I was sitting out front since I talked to you and I never saw her.”
“That’s… weird. Is it possible you went to the wrong treatment center?”
“No… she showed me the brochure a few days ago and I added their address into my phone because I wanted to get an apartment near to where they are located.”
“Huh… well, I’m not sure what to say.”
“What do I do?”
“Talk to her,” Dex says. “It could be nothing more than a misunderstanding… or it could be something much more.”
I have a feeling it probably falls into the latter, but it’s not something I had even considered. I want to believe her… I want there to be some kind of misunderstanding, but given her track record there’s a chance it’s not that.
“I will… I’m just so confused and… I don’t know what to think.”
“Just stay calm… focus on breathing and just ask her what you want to know. If she doesn’t respond… or you can tell she’s not telling the truth… that’s an answer. It might not be the one you want to hear, but it’s still a response to your question.”
“You’re right… I’m not sure why anything she does surprises me anymore.”
“Just start by giving her the benefit of the doubt… this is pretty serious.”
“I will,” I say.
“Call me back after you talk to her… if you want.”
“Thanks… I’ll call you either way.”
I hang up and put my phone in my purse. A million thoughts fill my head as I walk back to the apartment. It’s almost as if I’m afraid to face my mom… and come to know the truth that I can’t even form a clear thought about the whole thing. The walk back seems to be over in a matter of moments and I’m still no closer to figuring out what I’m going to say to her or ask her. I look around the parking lot, but my mom’s car isn’t there. At least I’ll have a few minutes of quiet in the apartment to try and sort out my thoughts, but I’m not that optimistic.
I manage to get the door open by some small miracle. I go to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face to try and shake myself out of the fog that has enveloped me. As I’m drying off my face I hear the front door open and close.
“I’m back!”
I hang my towel back up and walk into the living room. My mom is in the kitchen, putting away groceries. She has a wide smile on her face and she’s humming. She hardly looks like a person who’s in the middle of chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer. I open my mouth to confront her, but close it as I remember what Dex said to me. I focus on my breathing and I give her the benefit of the doubt.
“How did it go?” I say.
“It… it was chemotherapy.”
“You must be worn out.”
She finishes putting away the groceries, balls up the plastic shopping bags and puts them in a drawer on the far side of the kitchen before turning to me.
“Yeah… it certainly takes a lot out of me.”
“Did you pay them?”
“Yes… they were very thankful. They gave me a funny look for paying in cash, but they took it.”
I shake my head, walk over to the couch and sit down. Is this really happening? There's no way she was at that treatment clinic.
“I know it's probably too late to ask… at least for this round of treatment… but are you happy at that clinic with the treatment you're receiving?”
“Why do you ask?” she says.
My mom walks into the living and sits down on the other end of the couch. I try to look at her, but it makes me uneasy. I still want to somehow believe that she's telling the truth, but more doubt creeps into my mind with each word that spills from her mouth.
“Oh… well, I got this apartment because I wanted it to be close to where you go… but we could always move if you feel like there is a better option.”
“No… no… it's great being so close, I really appreciate it. I was so wiped out from the first treatment that driving back to Greenville was a struggle, but the five minute drive here makes it so easy.”
I can feel anger starting to fill my body. I almost feel frozen by the sheer gravity of the situation. Can she really be lying about this? Is that really possible?
“Mom… I was there.”
“Where?”
“The treatment clinic… I walked over there.”
She doesn't say anything. She stands up from the couch and walks across the living room.
“I wanted to talk to you about David,” I say, “because I don't want anything to do with him and so….”
“Fine,” she says, cutting me off, “he doesn't have to come around anymore. I'll talk to him… don't worry about that.”
She walks toward her room and I stand up from the couch to follow her.
“I think I need to rest… I'm starting to feel tired.”
“No.”
She starts to close her bedroom door and I put my foot in the opening. My shoe stops the door and I look into her eyes… anger has seeped into them and I can tell she’s right on the edge of exploding.
“You need to tell me the truth… right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you weren't at the clinic… I was there… and I talked to a woman that worked there. She had no idea who you were… so I told her what you looked like and she said she'd never seen anyone who looked like you.”
My mom opens her mouth to protest… but quickly closes it and just hangs her head. I'm not going to say anything… not until she tells me the truth.
“I don't know what to say,” she says, “I didn't tell you the truth.”
I turn away from her and walk back into the living room. This isn't a conversation I really want to have standing in the hallway in front of her bedroom… it's gonna be one of those talks where I need to sit down.
She follows me out to the living room and begins to pace as I sit down. I shake my head… not at what's happening now, but my mind just flashed back to the day when I got the rejection letter from State. That happened a few months shy of a year ago… and things have changed so much. Now my mom is the one who has to explain herself.
I feel numb as she stops walking and looks at me. I'm not sure what she's going to say, but I have a feeling it's not going to change what I'm feeling right now. I don't know that anger is even the right emotion to explain how I'm feeling. It's more disappointment than anything else… although I guess I should be somewhat relieved if she's about to tell me what I think she is.
“I don't have cancer.”
Bingo. That's exactly where I thought this conversation was going. At least I can stop worrying about her and if she's going to die… instead I have to wonder about why she would lie to me about something like that.
“Why would you tell me you did?”
She shrugs her shoulders and starts pacing again.
“I don't know… I feel so lost.”
“So, you told me you had cancer? What did you hope that would achieve?”
She walks over to the couch and sits down at the other end. She doesn’t seem to look mad anymore… instead she looks embarrassed that I caught her in a big lie.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t either,” I say, “but I don’t have anything to explain. Try… just try… to explain to me why you would lie about something like that.”
She shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders.
“I really don’t know.”
I stand up from the couch and start walking toward my bedroom.
“Where are you going?” she says.
“Does it matter?”
“Well… I want to try and make you understand why I did it.”
I turn around and stare right at her, but she quickly looks down.
“I just gave you the opportunity to tell me the truth… and you did that… but you won’t tell me why. If you’re not going to open up and be honest with me there’s no point. I’m not going to try and force you to talk to me.”
I turn, walk into my room and grab my purse. I’m not sure where I’m going... I just know that I don’t want to be here right now. I look around my room to make sure there’s not anything I can’t live without… and I walk toward the front door.
“Wait,” she says.
I stop at the door, my hand ready to open it, while I wait to see what she could possibly have to say that could change how I’m feeling right now.
“I’m sorry, Amy, I really am. I was feeling so alone… and I was broke. I needed help and there wasn’t anyone else. I knew because of what happened… in L.A., that you wouldn’t ever speak to me again unless it was an extenuating circumstance… like me having cancer. I swear to you… it was nothing more than that.”
I open the door and walk out of the apartment. I’m glad she finally admitted why she lied about having cancer, but it doesn’t make it any better. Being alone and not having money isn’t a reason to do something like that. As far as I’m concerned, the reason why she’s alone and has no money is because of the life choices she made. I just gave her twenty thousand dollars… it’s not enough to live off for a long time, but that’s all she’s getting from me and it’s more than she deserves after what she just pulled.
Once I’m outside I take my phone out of my purse and pull up the number for the taxi company I used last time—I need to get out of here as quickly as possible. There’s really no reason for me to spend another second in Greenville.
I pull Dex’s number up on my phone once I sit down. I look around at the thirty or so people waiting with me and lift the phone to my ear. He answers after the first ring.
“Amy… is everything OK?”
“I guess… I’m coming home.”
A smile crosses my face as I realize that I just said home in reference to living with Dex. I’ve thought about it before, but I’ve never said it out loud—it feels good to know that I still have a place to call home with everything that has happened in the last year with my mom.
“What happened with your mom?”
“She was lying.”
“What do you mean?” Dex says.
“She doesn’t have cancer.”
“What?!?”
“Yeah… she doesn’t have cancer.”
“Why the heck would she lie about that?”
I take a deep breath and look at the gate. I got lucky… there was a flight leaving in less than two hours from when I arrived at the airport. The plane isn’t going to board right away, but I still want to call, or at least text, Spencer before the flight takes off so that I can let him know I’m coming. My phone battery is also getting a little low… so I’ll need to make my call with Dex as short as possible without seeming rude.
“I’m not sure why she did it,” I say. “She told me it was because she needed money and she was lonely. I guess she knew that I would forget everything she did if I thought she had cancer.”
“That’s… I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I know… it’s really strange. I just had to get out of there… I have no reason to be there anymore, so I walked out and took a cab.”
“Where are you now?”
“The Salem airport… my plane boards in just a few minutes.”
“Good… good… I won’t keep you. We can always talk about in when you get back.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
I hear Dex as he starts to respond, but the call ends. I look down at my phone and the screen is black. Just wonderful. I try to turn my phone back on… but it’s completely dead. I didn’t think the battery was that low. I’m pretty sure I didn’t grab my charger out of my room, but I check my purse just in case. Nothing. I guess now I won’t have a chance to even text Spencer.
With each passing moment I sit at the gate, I start to focus less on what just happened with my mom and instead my thoughts drift to Spencer. I would have never imagined in a million years I would be excited to leave where I grew up and fly across the country to L.A., but it’s the only thing I want to do right now.