A Mother Would Know (52)



And that’s when I knew Heather was dead. “One second she was there, and the next...” My mind filled in the blanks. The next, she was falling. If she’d slipped from the edge and hadn’t been lucky enough to catch one of the craggy pines that grow on the bluff, the drop was severe—there was no way she survived a fall from that height. Panic and grief kicked up inside me, but I forced them down. This wasn’t the time. My son’s future depended on what happened next.

I swallowed hard. “Have you called the police?”

“Not yet.”

My chest expanded. I thought of Mac, of the police skewering me with personal questions, of the cruel suspicion with which my bandmates and friends and total strangers treated me. There was still time for Hudson.

“Mom, I’m scared,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “I promise it’ll be okay.”

I believed him when he said it was an accident.



* * *



When my alarm blares, I roll over, confused as to why it’s going off in the first place. I don’t usually set it. My internal clock usually wakes me up in time for my walk. My eyelids are heavy, as if glued shut. I thrust my arm out and hit the snooze button. When it goes off again, I successfully pry one lid open, and that’s when I see the Post-it Note that reads, “Dr. Steiner, 9:00 a.m.”

I stare up at the ceiling and contemplate canceling. After finding Hudson in Leslie’s yard, it took me hours to fall back asleep. And when I did, it was fitful and riddled with nightmares. I’m so tired. The last thing I want to do is sit in Dr. Steiner’s waiting room, only to be brought back to his office to be poked and prodded and asked degrading questions about my mental state. I can’t think of anything worse.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl?” Mom reached out to touch a tendril of Kendra’s hair. “You look a lot like my daughter. Have you met her?” Her watery eyes swept the room. “I think she’s around here somewhere. Always off playing, you know?”

Kendra’s lower lip trembled as if she might start crying. She wrinkled her nose and glanced up at me, a desperate plea in her eyes. My heart ached. Kendra would’ve loved my mom if only she’d known her when her mind was sharp. Not only were we strangers to my mom, but she’d become a stranger to us. And that filled me with extreme sadness. It’s an odd sensation to mourn the loss of someone who is still alive.

That’s something I never want for Hudson and Kendra, or even Mason, for that matter. Mind made up, I force myself out of bed and drink a gallon of coffee while getting ready. I’m running a little behind, but miraculously make it to my appointment on time.

Dr. Steiner asks me some basic history, runs through a few cognitive tests—can I read the time on an analog clock? How many animals can I name in sixty seconds?—and then sends me to the lab for blood work. He also schedules me for an MRI tomorrow morning.

As I drive home, I’m more hopeful than I’ve been in weeks. Suzanne is right. Medicine has advanced since my mom was sick. Dr. Steiner explained that once all my results come in, there are medications he can prescribe me that will help. There’s still no cure, but there may be options to slow down the disease. And isn’t that worth a try?

There is a lightness in my step that has been absent for weeks when I stop at the store to pick up a few items I’m out of. Once inside, I fish in my purse for my list, the one I always keep tacked to my fridge. The one I distinctly remember grabbing before I left the house this morning. But I can’t find it.

“Excuse me.” A lady speaks from over my shoulder. She holds the hand of a young boy. He sort of reminds me of Hudson when he was younger. Hair mussed, cowlick sticking up, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh, sorry.” I move out of the way so I’m no longer blocking the entrance and continue rifling through my purse. I find receipts, a few stray mints, a lip gloss, my signature red lipstick, a miniature hand lotion. It must have been slightly open, because it’s slick and slippery. Lotion coats my palm. After wiping it off, I continue my search, but don’t find my list.

Maybe I didn’t grab it this morning. Perhaps I’m remembering a different morning. I had been in a hurry today. So it’s possible I grabbed it only to drop it somewhere.

Biting my lower lip, I try to remember what was on it. There were only a few items, but at least one of them I need for dinner tonight. What am I making again?

I can’t even remember that.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” A girl wearing a name tag that reads “Stella” sidles up to me.

“Mom, are you okay?” I touched her arm and she flinched, her eyes clearing as if coming out of a trance.

“Yeah.” I blink. “I’m fine.” God, I must look ridiculous, standing at the entrance of the store, staring off into space. Securing my purse on my shoulder, I turn and walk back out to the parking lot. Once inside my car, I lean my head into the seat and groan.

Thank god I went to see Dr. Steiner today. If only I’d gone sooner. If only I hadn’t been so stubborn.

Emotion bubbles up in my throat. My eyes are hot. I breathe deeply in through my nose and out my mouth a few times until I feel more steady. Then I shove the key into the ignition and turn it, music immediately surrounding me. I have it on an ’80s station, and as I drive out of the parking lot, a familiar Madonna song plays, instantly putting me more at ease.

Amber Garza's Books