Page 82 of Give Me a Shot

“Hi, Mom,” she said, answering.

“Jess! Hi,” her mom said. “So good to hear your voice.”

Jess didn’t want to lie and say it was good to hear hers.

“Hello,” she said again, forcing an almost bright tone as she continued into her bedroom. “How’s it going?”

“Good, good,” her mother said. “Weather’s been great, my seven-sons have come in nicely this year. It’s attracted so many butterflies!”

Sitting on her bed, Jess realized her mom had just provided a nice segue. If she was going to listen to Alice and Steph—who, objectively, logically, were probably right that seeing her parents might help her—she could use seeing the flowering tree to bring up the possibility of a visit. Even though she was still very reluctant to do so, her friends had never led her astray. She’d pushed herself to make more difficult choices in her life; she could do this. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to speak, but then her mouth was suddenly dry, in spite of the water she’d just finished.

“Huh,” she scratched out. “That sounds nice…” Her throat sealed up, cutting off her voice. She pushed, but nothing happened. She coughed, trying to force her voice back. “Maybe you could send me a picture?”

“Oh! Will do. You’ll see, it’s so much fuller than last year. I’ll send you one from then so you can really see the difference.”

“That’d be great, Mom,” Jess said.

Angry with herself for failing to suggest the visit, Jess needed to get off the phone. The remaining agitation from the doctor’s appointment, and her disappointment with herself, meant her temper was on a short leash. She was afraid of saying something hurtful because she was struggling with her own emotions.

“Listen, Mom,” she said. “I’m expecting a work call any minute. I can’t miss it. I know why you’re calling, and I’m sorry, but I’m…I’m still not ready for a visit.”

Her mother made a small, muffled whine, and Jess could just see the facial expression that went along with that sound: her mother’s lips pressing together and then turning down on oneside. Wincing at the pain still in her hand, Jess tugged at a loose thread on her comforter. For the first time, she noticed how strange and almost sorrowful the pattern on it looked in the meager light filtering through the blinds on her windows. Her mother’s sigh drew Jess back to the call.

“Okay,” her mom said. “I won’t keep you. Your work is important. But the door is open whenever you feel you’re ready. You know that.”

“I do,” Jess said. “And…thank you for saying that. About my work.”

“Of course, honey. It’s important to you, so it’s important to me. Love you, Doctor,” she said.

A slow, cold fog rose in Jess’s bones.

“Love you, too, Mom,” she said and ended the call.

Her mother hadn’t called her “Doctor” because Jess had finally become one. She’d been calling her that for many, many years. At least since Jess started high school. What her mother hadn’t said was the other part of the nickname, Pepper, because she couldn’t say it anymore. “Doctor” for the serious sister and “Pepper” for the sweet, spunky one who had once been attached to her hip.

Jess melted into the bed, grateful for the quiet and the dark so that the cold fog morphing into a heavy ache could cement itself into her bones, and she didn’t have to do anything about it. But she wasn’t going to cry.

—

That evening, sitting on her bed with her laptop on her lap, Jess sighed as her laughter died down.

She, Alice, and Stephanie had been talking for about an hour. Jess had been having a great time. It was nice to put the heaviness from talking to her mom and her frustration about her doctor’s appointment to the side. Stephanie venting about her students had made Jess laugh hard enough that her sides hurt, and she was happy to commiserate with similar stories. But the pain in her hand from the call with her mom hadn’t left. The ache in hermuscles had turned flu-like. Which was odd because she hadn’t had pain like that in a while. She couldn’t remember any at all since she’d spent the first night with Mo.

It was almost like being with Mo, being open, allowing herself to start something hopeful and new had brought in a positivity that eased her pains, at least for a little while. But now that she was digesting the call from her mom and the “need” for more tests, the pain was back, requiring a lot of energy just to stay in the conversation with her friends.

“Jess?” Alice asked, bringing her out of rubbing her arms and back into the call.

“Hmm?” she answered.

“It looks like you’re trying to give yourself a deep tissue massage with your clothes on,” Alice said.

“Yeah,” said Stephanie. “And it looks painful. Wait—you didn’t tell us what the doctor said. Any news from your tests?” Alice asked.

Jess sighed, shrugging as she stretched out her hands.

“The doctor doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Jess grumbled. “The tests came back fine, apparently. But rather than just leaving it at that, she wants to do even more of them.”

Stephanie narrowed her eyes.

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