Page 1 of Truce Of The Matter

Chapter 1

“It’s Daija, Daddy,” I mouth to my dad before quietly ambling out of the hospital room. Once in the hall, I walk down to the small vending machine area and give my attention back to my cell. “You need to come home,” I tell my little sister.

“I thought you said that they are releasing her tomorrow. I can’t just come home like that. What about my classes?” she whines, making excuses.

“Our elderly mom just had two seizures, fell and fractured her hip, and is in the hospital. I’m sure your professors would understand if you miss a class or two for that. You can leave this afternoon and be here in five hours. Hell, I’ll just buy you a plane ticket and you can be here even sooner. These two seizures were bad and the doctors are saying that she has to go to a rehab facility for about three weeks before she can go home.”

“Let me go see what I can do. I’ll call you back,” she says with no emotion or urgency.

“One hour, Daija.”

“Damn, Truce. I’ll call you back in one hour,” she snaps before ending the call.

Our relationship is tricky. I love her more than she will ever know but our fourteen-year age gap doesn’t allow her to see that sometimes. To her, I’m just her bossy, overreaching, older sister who settled for a life in Crescent Falls instead of living a dream life. She believes her life is better because she left. Her naiveté prevents her from seeing the beauty and rich culture of our family and in our town. She also doesn’t have a clue that I do a lot so she doesn’t have to. I want her life to be as special as it can be.

Ten years ago, my mother had been diagnosed with epilepsy. Because she was middle aged, forty-six at the time, her actual diagnosis took some time. The signs were subtle at first—jerking, erratic hand movements and unexplained dizziness—and she basically ignored them until she couldn’t anymore. It’s been a long road and major shifts have had to happen, starting with her pulling back from our family business, Redmond’s Soul Food.

These past two years have been the worst and because Daija has been away at college, she only knows what’s going on through secondhand updates from me or my dad. She’s in her junior year at Clark Atlanta University in Georgia, majoring in Political Science and Government, and her visits home are far and few. I normally don’t press her about coming home—she needs to get the full college experience—but this time is different. My mom looks weaker and seems to have visibly aged years in a matter of days and I’m worried. Daija needs to come home because if something happens to Mom and she’s not here, she will have to live with that regret forever. I don’t want that for her because I know firsthand that regret can utterly overwhelm you.

Before heading back into the room, I grab lemon cookies from the vending machine and fix my dad a cup of black coffee with one packet of Equal. It’s late and he’s tired but he’s adamant about not leaving my mom’s side. They have beenmarried for forty-one years and let him tell it, they haven’t slept apart more than twenty-four hours.

“Here, Daddy.” I hand over the cup of coffee but he hesitates to grab it. “I know how you like your coffee, Daddy,” I say and he takes it.

“Thank you, sweetie. What did your sister say?” he asks, hopeful.

“She’s going to talk to her professors and try to get here,” I reply, full of hope too although my gut tells me we are both going to be disappointed.

So, as we sit, I log into my Flight app and search for tickets. There’s a final flight to Crescent Falls at nine forty but it’s already seven. There’s no way she’ll make that so I book the one for eight twenty in the morning and send her the flight info. Seconds later, she thumbs up the text.

Me: I’ll pick you up at 10:30.

Daija: I’ll take an iDrive.

“She just texted, Dad. She’ll be here tomorrow morning. I booked her.”

“I knew Daija wouldn’t disappoint me. Seeing her is going to be good for your momma.” He places his cup on the small table by the bed then grabs my mom’s hands. “Your baby’s coming home tomorrow, love,” he utters to my mom. She’s heavily sedated because the doctors want to ensure she gets some rest tonight.

The nurse, Raejean, creeps into the room with an apologetic look on her face. When she flashes a wry smile, I know it’s time. “Visiting hours ended at seven. I’m already breaking the rules by letting him stay. Sorry,” she says in a low tone.

“Please, girl, don’t apologize. You’re doing me a huge favor by letting him stay. Thank you. I’m about to leave and make sureyour dinner is on its way and I’ll be calling to check in. Can we get some extra warm blankets and a pillow please? I know he isn’t going to be comfortable but I at least want him to be warm.”

“You know I’ll take care of both of them,” she assures.

Raejean and I go way back. I’ve known her since fourth grade and I do know that she will, in fact, take care of my parents. To show my appreciation, I have my team preparing dinner for the nurses on the floor. It should be heading this way soon.

“Thank you,” I tell her then stand. I step over and kiss my mom on her forehead. “Get better and I love you. I’ll be back tomorrow.” I walk around to my dad and he stands. He pulls me in for one of his comforting hugs. “Love you, Daddy. Don’t give Raejean a hard time either and please, get your chicken and dumplings when the food gets here.”

“I don’t have much of an appetite but I’ll try.”

He kisses my cheek then eases back down in the reclining chair. I walk back to the small couch, grab my bag, then walk to Raejean. “Call my cell if anything changes,” I tell her.

“I will. The social worker will be here at nine to discuss the transition to rehab. Once her doctors clear her then she’ll be going to Golden Age.”

“I’ll be here before nine anyway. Thanks again, girl. The food should be here at nine and the chicken and dumplings are for my dad.”

“As long as I have a piece of strawberry cake in the order, we are even.”

“I’ll send a whole sliced cake.”

---