The Mother's Promise(89)

“You seem better,” Zoe said to her. She was painting her mom’s nails. “Kate says you can leave the hospital tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’m feeling better. These look nice.” She lifted her hands to admire them, then dropped them carefully onto her knees. She was quiet for a long time. “Honey, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I am leaving the hospital in a few days. But … the doctors said I won’t be able to come home.”

“What do you mean?”

“My scans showed that the cancer has spread. There are new tumors on my bowels and that is why I was in such terrible pain.”

“But you’re better now.” It was meant to be a statement, but the sentence rose at its end, seemingly of its own volition.

“Yes,” her mom said. “Because I haven’t been eating or drinking. Everything has been going in and out of this tube. If I start eating and drinking again, this would just happen again.” Her mom took her hand. “When I leave here, hon, I’ll have to go to a hospice.”

“A … hospice?” Zoe reared back. “Isn’t that where people go to—”

“Yes, Mouse.”

Zoe’s hands tented over her mouth. “No!”

“I’m so sorry, honey. I have to tell you the truth.”

Zoe shook her head, a sob building at the base of her throat. “I don’t want to hear this truth.”

“I know. But you can handle it.”

Now the sob burst from her. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Zoe took a deep breath. The rest of what her mom was saying slowly caught up. She wasn’t going home.

“But … what will happen to me?”

“They … they told me that you can come and stay with me at the hospice. After that, I’ve asked Kate if she and her husband would consider becoming your legal guardians.”

“What?” Zoe’s hands fell from her mouth. “But … you hate Kate.”

“I don’t hate Kate. But what’s more important is how much you like her. And how much she cares about you. I believe you would be loved and taken care of with Kate. Nothing is more important to me than that.”

Her mom’s voice was calm and soothing, but she had tears in her eyes. They hovered on her bottom lid, defying gravity.

“I don’t want to live with Kate,” Zoe blurted out, more of a cry than a shout.

“You don’t?” Her mom’s tears started to fall.

“No!”

“Oh.” Her mom wiped furiously against the tears that refused to stop. “Well … who do you want to live with?”

“I want to live with you!” Zoe cried, and she lay down next to her mother. There, in the hospital bed, they sobbed, until their tears mingled together and it was impossible to tell whose were whose.





78

Kate stood in the doorway of Alice’s hospital room. Zoe was curled up on her mother’s bed, asleep. She hadn’t left Alice’s side in nearly a week. Alice had stabilized now and discharge planning had commenced. That afternoon, she would be transferred to a hospice.

“Hello,” Alice said, noticing her there.

Kate walked into the room and they both looked down at Zoe, sleeping peacefully. Kate had an overpowering urge to stroke her hair back off her face, but she held back. For now, her mother could do that.

“So,” Kate started at the same time as Alice grabbed her hand.

“Zoe loops Cheerios on a straw and then sucks them off,” she said. “It’s weird, but she likes it.”

Kate stared at her, confused.

“She’s a little OCD. She never watches TV without doing something else to occupy her hands. A puzzle. Folding laundry. Stuff like that.”

“Alice—”

“She’s surprisingly cuddly. You wouldn’t think that, would you? She loves things that are cozy—cushions and throw rugs and blankets. As you can see, she still likes to sleep with me. When she was younger, it was for her—because she was scared or just wanted a cuddle. Lately, it’s been for me.”

Alice’s chin quivered, but she kept it together, always stronger than she looked. “She loves her cat, Kenny. I don’t care for him much—he leaves fur all over my couch—but she loves him.”

Alice’s eyes filled with tears and suddenly Kate understood. She was handing Zoe over.

“Alice, you don’t have to—”

“Please, let me. I don’t have time to tell you everything, but at least I can tell you this.”

A ball of emotion lodged itself in Kate’s throat, so enormous it was nearly unbearable. No mother should have to say good-bye to her child like this. Not when their time together was already too short. Finally she nodded. “All right.”

“Knock, knock.”

They both glanced at the door, where Dr. Brookes stood.

“I’ve sent a discharge summary to the hospice,” he said to Alice.

Alice lips were taut, controlling the emotion. “Great. Thank you.”

Dr. Brookes came to her side and took her hand. “I wish you all the best.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. She looked so small, Kate noticed, in that bed. So vulnerable. For the first time, she reminded Kate of … Zoe.