Page 76 of The Wish List
“That makes sense,” Freya said simply. “We’ll discover what’s going on soon enough. We don’t need anything from Greg. No matter what they tell us about Mom, we’ll make sure that Trinity stays on a good path.”
“Yes,” Beth agreed. “We can. We will.”
Why did it still feel she had to single-handedly take on life’s challenges when she wasn’t, in fact, alone? It was a lesson she needed to learn one way or the other. The door opened, and the facility’s director walked in.
“Thank you for coming today,” she said as she moved to the other side of the conference table. Jennifer Hoffman was in her late fifties, a stout woman with severe features and a short, utilitarian bobbed hairstyle. “The doctor rounding at the center today had hoped to be here but was called to the hospital on an emergency. I think we can handle this meeting on our own.”
Beth couldn’t decide whether the purpose of the meeting was as serious as the director’s expression would lead them to believe or if the woman just needed to learn how to fix her face when talking to families.
“We see many roads to recovery, especially with stroke patients,” she began. Beth surprised herself by slipping a hand into Freya’s.
Something else that had changed for Beth since Declan had come into her life was the desire for physical touch. It hadn’t previously been part of her makeup. If Freya was surprised by it, she didn’t show it. She simply squeezed Beth’s hand.
Trinity moved from where she’d been standing and lowered herself into the chair on Freya’s other side. “Is our mom okay?” she asked.
“Because all these covert ops and metaphorical talking around the issue is freaking us out,” Freya added.
Beth appreciated her sister’s directness. She could learn from that. Shewouldlearn from that.
“Your mom is good,” a familiar voice said from the doorway. Beth drew in a breath as May walked in, using a cane instead of her walker, to join Jennifer on the other side of the table. “I am good,” she repeated. “I woke up today with a better brain.” She paused to breathe, as if speaking slowly made the words come more easily. “They say I’m a miracle.”
“Those were the neurologist’s exact words this morning,” Jennifer Hoffman confirmed. “It’s an astounding recovery. Your mother has defied all expectations.”
“It no longer feels like my brain and body fluttering in different directions,” May explained. “I feel like me again. Mostly me.”
Beth felt Freya’s hand go slack. She could imagine her sister having a similar reaction to her own. Relief mixed with panic. Of course, she wanted her mother to recover. It was a huge, miraculous development. The droop in their mom’s face had mostly disappeared. While she spoke slowly with an occasional missed word, May barely slurred.
But a return to normal—who May had been before the stroke—wasn’t something any of them would necessarily celebrate, even though the past few weeks of watching their mother struggle had been difficult.
This time had also been its own kind of miracle, a do-over on the loving mother Beth had always wanted.
May looked at each of them expectantly, and Beth tried to calm her reeling thoughts and jumbled emotions. She latched onto the words Freya had spoken earlier. They would get each other through this. While they’d been worried about Trinity, it was their baby sister who reacted first.
“Mom, thisisa miracle.” She stood, baby in her arms. “It’s exactly what we wished for.”
Not exactly, Beth thought, then immediately felt guilt pound through her. May nodded and reached a hand across the table. Her left hand, Beth noticed.
The left side of her mother’s body had stayed stubbornly resistant to therapy. Her movement now was jerky, but she’d clearly regained an incredible amount of mobility on her weaker side.
The brain was an amazing mystery, and this was beyond any outcome Beth had allowed herself to imagine. Even now, she couldn’t quite fathom what it might mean for all of them.
“What does this mean?” Freya’s words echoed Beth’s chaotic thoughts.
Jennifer nodded, her face still stern while her tone was gentle. “First, it means your mom can go home right away. She might have some lingering physical and cognitive issues. It’s hard to say with this kind of swift recovery. The fact that you’ve converted a bedroom on the first floor so she doesn’t have to use the stairs will still be a benefit. She’s going to continue her therapy on an outpatient basis. She won’t be cleared to drive yet, but at this rate, we hope her recovery will continue to move ahead at warp speed.”
Hope. Beth’s heart clenched. Wishes coming true. She forced her mouth into a smile. “This is wonderful.”
“I talked to Greer.” May made this statement like her daughters should know why or what that meant, although Beth wasn’t following. “We talked about the book tour,” May said in clarification. “I will go.”
Jennifer’s eyes pinched at the corners. “This is where your mother and I disagree, but she is stubborn when she wants to be.”
That could be the understatement of the year as far as Beth was concerned. She leaned forward and made sure her smile stayed in place. “Mom, it’s amazing that you’ve had this...well... I don’t know what else to call it but a miracle. Don’t you want to take it easy for a little while?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Beth saw Freya nod in agreement. “I’m sure Greer can come up with a lighter schedule or some virtual events that wouldn’t be so taxing.”
May pointed at Beth, her nails still the cherry-red hue Trinity had painted them weeks ago. A lifetime at this juncture. “You can come with me,” she said.
Beth blinked. Her mother was looking at her, but certainly she didn’t mean that Beth should accompany her on a book tour. Not once in all the years May had been doing publicity, speaking engagements, and leading workshops had she asked any of her daughters to come with her.
