Rome's Chance (Reapers MC #6.6)(38)
Lexi started rocking back and forth, wrapping her arms tightly around her body. “It’s my fault. I heard a thump from her bedroom, but I didn’t go check on her. She was drunk. I was taking a bath and she falls all the time when she’s drunk. I ignored it because I was shaving my legs. And now she’s dead. If I’d gotten out of the tub, she’d still be alive, wouldn’t she?”
I reached for her, but she slapped me away, staring at the doctor, willing her to answer. The woman shook her head.
“Your mother’s condition was very bad,” she told Lexi. “If you’d found her earlier, I doubt it would’ve made much difference. You did your best and so did the ambulance crew, but sometimes people are just too sick to survive.”
Lexi shook her head, turning away.
“Can we see her?” I asked.
“Yes,” the doctor told me. “But I want to warn you—she doesn’t look like herself right now. We fought very hard to save her, which means we used tubes and ran IVs to give her medication. While it’s true that some families like to say goodbye to their loved ones in the ER, it can be traumatic.”
“I want to go,” Lexi said, still facing the wall. “I need to see her. This doesn’t feel real.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “However she looks, it can’t be worse than when they rolled her out. I want to say goodbye.”
The doctor nodded. “I’ll have the nurse come get you in a few minutes, once they have a chance to clean up.”
She turned and left the room, closing the door softly. I stepped over to Lexi, putting a hand against her back. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is,” Lexi said softly. “I heard something fall, Randi. But I just figured she’d knocked something over. She hadn’t been having any trouble breathing and she wasn’t smoking. You know how she is when she drinks. I was tired and all I wanted was to finish my bath… I almost didn’t check on her before I went to sleep. She had the nebulizer out when I found her, but I think she passed out before she could use it.”
“Lexi, you did your best,” I said, willing her to believe me. “And you heard the doctor. She was sick—way sicker than any of us realized. I’m the one who left you alone with her for the night. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
With that, she turned and I wrapped my arms around her. Then we held each other tight as she started crying again. I found myself staring at the wall over her shoulder, trying to absorb it all. It had a soft, smooth texture covered in soothing blue paint.
The whole room was like that—calm.
I didn’t feel calm, though. I didn’t feel calm at all, because the wall of numbness that’d protected me until now was starting to show cracks, and I finally felt something. It wasn’t the pain I’d expected, though.
It was fear.
This teenage girl in my arms? She was my responsibility now. For real. Forever. So was the nine-year-old boy wandering the hospital with Rome, eating candy… If I couldn’t take care of them, they’d end up in foster care.
My mind started to race.
I needed to find us a new place to live—I couldn’t take them back to that apartment, not after what happened tonight. There would be paperwork, too. I’d have to apply for legal guardianship.
And I had to call my brothers, I realized. Aiden and Isaac had no clue. I had to tell them. Kayden, too.
Oh, Mom, I thought. How could you leave me like this?
Chapter Eleven
The rest of the night was a blur.
Lexi and I visited Mom to say goodbye. The doctor had been right—she didn’t look like herself at all. She didn’t even look like a real person, to be honest. They’d brought us into the trauma room, where she was still laying on the table. Someone had covered her with a sheet, tucking it gently under her chin.
There was still a tube in her mouth and her skin was all wrong. Waxy. Like one of those creepy figures in a museum.
At first I was sort of scared to touch her. This was the same woman who’d given me my emerald necklace just hours ago, who’d hugged me and told me how beautiful I was. Now the only thing left was a shell. It was weird. Awkward. I felt like I should say something to her, but I had no idea what.
“Do you think I could hold her hand for a minute?” Lexi asked after a long silence.
“Sure,” I said, looking at the sheet that covered everything but her head. Taking a deep breath, I reached down and lifted the edge gently, finding her fingers.
They were cool to the touch, and I realized they’d never be warm again. Lexi covered my hand with hers, and we stood there, neither of us quite knowing what to do. Finally the nurse knocked at the door, checking on us.
She probably had to take away the body.
That’s when it hit me—this thing on the table wasn’t my mom. My mother could be crazy and horrible, full of laughter and drunken belligerence, but she was never, ever cold and quiet. I leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead, and I finally knew what to say.
“I wish we’d had more time together,” I whispered, not wanting Lexi to hear. “Don’t forget me, okay? Keep an eye on me, because I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”
Closing my eyes, I waited to feel something. Some kind of reassurance that she’d heard me, that she’d be my guardian angel. But there was nothing.