Page 53 of Cloud Nine Love

I left the house with a grin on my face, making sure to lock it behind me. When I reached my mom’s truck, a text came through. I pulled out my phone and saw that it was from Ruby, letting me know they’d landed in Mexico. I appreciated her humoring me and always keeping me updated when she traveled. Although, now that she was with Kane, I didn’t worry nearly as much.

I also saw I’d missed a call from Misty. She’d been calling every day, but I had been sending her to voicemail. I would see her tonight, and we could work out logistics. We owned the home we shared together, so I figured we would sell the house and split the profits.

As I drove through town on the way to the trailer park my mom lived in, I saw Wishing Well through a completely different lens than I ever had before. Well, that’s not true. Before my dad died, I’d loved this town. The first nine years of my life—my childhood there—had been idyllic. But after he was gone and my mom fell into depression, there was just so much pain here.

After my dad died, everywhere I looked, I saw moments I’d shared with him and with my mom and him as a family. But now, as I drove through town, I saw people walking their dogs, kids riding their bikes, teenagers making TikToks, couples pushing strollers, and The Senior Striders, a walking group for people over eighty. I saw community. That was something I missed in California. Sure, the guys on my crew were like family. But I didn’t live near them. We were scattered all over.

Moving back here just made sense. It was home.

My chest ached as I pulled into the trailer park at the thought of leaving Wishing Well and Taylor, even if it was just for a few months. For a brief moment, I considered the possibility that I was projecting my feelings from my breakup with Misty onto Taylor. Since that, objectively, would be a much more important, and significant relationship in my life. I supposed it was a possibility, but I knew it wasn’t the case. I loved Taylor. I’d loved her since the first time I saw her.

Shaking off all thoughts of Misty, of Taylor, and of heartbreak, I exhaled and walked up to the trailer. As I did, I mentally prepared myself for the talk I was going to have with my mom. Something was going on with her. She was disappearing before my eyes. I wasn’t sure if her weight loss had to do with her mental or physical health, but there was definitely an issue. She’d always been on the thin side, but I remember that the year after my dad died, she lost a significant amount of weight. Even when she was pregnant with my sister. I remember going to doctor’s appointments with her and her being told that she was underweight.

It was hard for me to imagine that her breakup with Randall, an unemployed gamer/DJ who was twenty-six years younger than her, could possibly affect her the same way losing my father, the love of her life, had, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d never even seen the two of them together. Maybe she’d loved him. Or maybe the breakup had just triggered the same emotions that my father’s death had.

Or maybe she was sick. Physically sick. My mom and I had always had a good relationship, so I wanted to believe that she would tell me if anything was wrong. But then again, I hadn’t told her about Misty. Whatever it was, I planned on getting to the bottom of it—or at least trying. I didn’t feel quite as much pressure since I’d decided to move home.

I turned the knob and pushed the stuck door with my shoulder. When it opened, the first thing I noticed was that all the curtains were drawn, which was strange. All week, I’d woken up to all the shades being pulled open and a ton of natural light flooding in. Right before I stepped inside, a warning bell went off in my head that something was wrong. That premonition did not prepare me for what I saw when I entered the trailer and found Mom lying face-up on the floor, unconscious.

“Mom!” I called out and rushed to her, taking her pulse to see if I needed to start CPR. She was breathing. I checked for any external injuries and didn’t see any. Her skin was shockingly white, so I pressed my hand to her cheek. When I did, I was shocked by how hot she was to the touch. She was burning up.

“Mom!” I called out again.

After the third time I said her name, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.

“Nine one one, what is your emergency?”

“I found my mom on the floor, passed out. She’s not responsive. She has a fever.” Part of the requirement for my job was to complete EMT training, and it kicked in now.

“Is she breathing?”

“Yes.”

“What is your address?”

“Tumbleweed Trailer Park, number twenty-seven.”

I did my best to remain calm and professional as I answered the dispatcher’s questions. Unfortunately, I had no clue if my mom had ingested any drugs, prescription or otherwise. Or if she’d had too much to drink.

At the wedding yesterday, she’d nursed a single glass of champagne. I’d known it was one because of the unique lipstick stain on the brim that looked like a butterfly, which Kenna had commented on.

“Okay, paramedics are on their way. I’ll stay on the line with you.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” I did my best to stay calm as I crouched beside my mom and kept my eyes glued to her chest to make sure it was rising and falling. If I wasn’t sure, even for a second, I lowered my cheek to her mouth to listen for breaths and feel them.

It felt like an eternity passed before I heard the distant sounds of sirens.

“They should be close,” the dispatcher relayed.

“I can hear them.”

The sound got louder until it stopped outside the trailer. When I heard steps coming up the metal stairs, I informed the dispatcher they were there and hung up. The door opened, and I looked up and saw Milo Hale, Kenna’s brother, who was a firefighter/paramedic with the Wishing Well Fire Department.

I explained how I’d found her and moved out of the way as he and his partner, that I didn’t know, took her vitals and began to treat her. I stood by the sink in the tiny kitchenette, feeling completely helpless, as they examined her.

The decision was quickly made that they were going to transport her. The entire scene was somewhat of a blur, but as they put her on the gurney, her eyes began to flutter open.

“Mom!” I called out as they began to load her into the ambulance. She looked at me but didn’t respond.

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