Page 73 of Devoted

Her face and skin are dry, her head bald under her wrap, her eyes lacking color—all the same side effects I remember seeing in my mother before she passed. She didn’t do chemo for very long before we realized that the cancer was spreading too fast. From there on it was more about making her comfortable and helping her die with dignity.

“So, Jess. My son speaks very highly of you. You’re a nurse at the hospital, right?”

“Yes,” I say and then clear my throat of the emotion building inside. “In the ER. I work with Brooks quite often, actually.”

“I hope he doesn’t prevent you from doing your job. My boy can be quite the flirt.”

I smile just as Brooks calls from the kitchen, “I heard that!”

“I don’t care! It’s the truth!” She shouts back as we both share a friendly laugh.

“Oh, he’s a professional at work, that’s for sure.” I won’t share the make out sessions we’ve had in the on-call rooms or the subtle brushes of our hands as we pass each other. Those instances won’t help his case, it seems. But Brooks is definitely focused under pressure and has an instinct only brilliant doctors do. “He’s a remarkable doctor too. You should be proud.”

“I am. That boy is my pride and joy. It’s been just him and I since he was five. I love him with every fragment of my soul. He’s my everything. And he seems to be quite enamored with you. It’s been amazing to witness.”

I can feel heat travel up my cheeks, making me blush. “Thank you. If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty enamored with him too. He makes me very happy.”

“He’d better.” Her eyes search mine and then land on my hand that’s been picking at the hem of my shirt. It’s a nervous tick I exhibit sometimes, but it’s been so long since I’ve caught myself doing it, I didn’t even stop to think I might do it tonight.

“Would you like to go outside? I have a swing we can sit on and get some privacy from all the ruckus in here.”

A contemplative smile graces my lips. “Sure.”

I help her up and then we sneak out front, taking refuge under the patio, swinging in the gorgeous summer night air.

“There’s no need to be nervous around me, Jess. I know we’ve barley spoken, but I know when a person is honest and pure. And you are, my darling, especially after what my son has told me about you. You’ve offered him so much comfort since he moved home. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you.”

I can’t help it, the tears begin to build. My eyes gloss over as I stare at the woman across from me, feeling her agony of potentially leaving her son behind. I hope and pray with my entire heart in this moment that Brooks never has to feel that loss because it’s a pain unlike any other. And even though Vivian thinks Brooks is the one benefiting from our relationship, the real person who’s life has been changed is me.

“In the brief time I’ve known Brooks, he’s changed my life. I didn’t want to let him in initially, which I’m sure he’s probably told you.” Her head bobs up and down as she fights back her own tears. “But I am so glad I did. He’s helped me feel brave and confident, cherished, and whole. I care about him very much.”

Her hand finds mine, the cold skin of her palm resting atop of my knuckles. “I know he cares about you too. Thank you for being here tonight, for letting me see that there’s someone that can love him the way I do.”

I glance down at her hand as she flips it over when she pulls it away, revealing a butterfly tattoo on her wrist. “Brooks told me that you like butterflies.” I state, completely changing the subject, but being caught off-guard by the similarity in our tattoos.

“Oh, yes. I’ve always loved them. I got this on my thirtieth birthday, actually. I’d realized I didn’t want to live my life without having at least one. I kept putting it off until I realized that one day I might wake up and die, and then I would have been disappointed that I never followed through with it.” She shrugs as she looks back down at her wrist. “I know it sounds silly. I mean, it’s just a tattoo, right? But I think there’s something to be said for living in the moment and not wanting to live with regrets.”

As her fingers trace the image, I smile wistfully, thinking back to how many times now that Brooks has pushed me to face my fears and live. This incredible man was obviously raised by a very wise woman. And I could not be more grateful.

“I’m learning that myself. Your son has helped me with that, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I believe it. That boy is all about taking life by the horns, always has been. Watching him has given me the courage to take risks and live a little. I just wish I had more time to see everything else he’s going to do with his life.”

“I actually have a very similar tattoo, one I got in memory of my mother.”

Vivian’s excitement registers on her face, her smile spreading wide as she clasps her hands together. “Oh, let me see!” I lift up my shirt to expose the ink right under my left breast.

“That’s beautiful. I love the colors.”

“Thank you. I—I don’t know if he told you, but… my mom died from breast cancer.” I can feel my entire body shaking as I divulge a piece of my past I never reveal to anyone, least of all the mother of the man that I love who’s battling the same disease.

Her lips fold in on themselves as her head bobs up and down. “Yes, he told me. How—how old was she?”

“Forty-six.”

“What was her diagnosis?”

“Stage two. But by the time she started chemotherapy, the cancer was spreading too fast. She—she died four months later.”

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