Page 102 of Judgment

Paisley

THE HOSPITAL IS BUSTLING as we walk in. Wet boots squeak on the floor as people rush in from the cold, bundled up against the frigid outside air.

I lean down to make sure the blanket I tucked around my mother is still firmly in place. “Did you stay warm enough?”

“Warm and definitely not a danger to myself or anyone else.” She gives me a wicked grin. “You missed your calling as a straitjacket designer.”

Julian snorts out a laugh as he pushes my mother toward the main desk just inside the entrance. “I should let you come swaddle the baby. We can’t figure out how to get both his arms in the blanket at once.”

“Oh, you leave that sweet baby alone, Julian.” My mother yanks at the thick plush fabric covering her body and manages to loosen it enough to get her arms free. “He’s an angel.”

“You’re not the one walking the floors with him at night.” Julian might complain about fatherhood, but the smile on his face gives him away. He’s the proudest pappa I’ve ever seen.

“I don’t believe it.” My mother holds her arms out of the way while LaShawn folds down the top of the blanket, carefully pushing it back into place around her. “He didn’t so much as pout yesterday when you brought him to see me.”

“That’s because he likes you better than he likes me.” Julian whips out his phone and thumbs across the screen before holding it out for my mother to see the picture of his screaming son. “That’s the face he makes when I hold him.”

“He’s still an angel.” My mother reaches up to pull at the hat covering her mostly bald head. “You can’t tell me any differently.”

I lean against the desk as they continue bantering behind me. The woman on the other side gives me a quick smile. “Can I help you?”

“Can you remind me what floor I go to for the Remsuden trial?” I haven’t heard back from Dr. Marshall but I’m sure that’s because he’s crazy busy with this trial starting. I know at one point he told me where I’d need to go but somewhere along the line I forgot.

I can’t imagine why. It’s not like my whole life has turned upside down since then.

But as I listen to my mom chat with LaShawn and Julian I can’t work up the tiniest bit of animosity about it.

She went from sitting alone all day while I worked to having someone to talk to and care for her.

And I went from taking on everything myself to—

Something more complicated than that.

“Let me see.” The woman types on her keyboard, eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. “It looks like they are on the third floor.” She grabs a map and flips it up onto the counter between us, motioning with the tip of her pen. “Take the elevators behind me then make a left when you get off. Go past the first waiting area. The second waiting area is where you want to be. Check in at the window and they’ll get you all set.”

“I know exactly where that is.” I give her a bright smile. “Right next to Dr. Marshall’s office.”

Her smile falters a little. “Right.”

I turn back to my mother and her cohorts. They’re deep in a discussion about the best cookies to leave out for Santa, with Julian hanging onto the women’s every word.

“I convinced my kids that Santa loved peanut butter cookies.” LaShawn grins. “Especially the ones with the Hershey’s Kiss stuck in the middle.” Her lower lip juts out a little. “Too bad they’re all grown. Now my Christmas mornings are cookieless.”

“Paisley still sets out cookies for Santa and they get better every year.” My mother’s warm gaze comes to me. “At one point she had a notebook where she recorded how many cookies Santa ate every year so she could keep track of it.”

I bump Julian out of the way and grab onto the back of my mom’s wheelchair, pushing it towards the elevators. “I just wanted to make sure I was getting better at baking cookies.” As soon as we reach the bank of elevators I press the up button on the panel. “How else would I be able to tell if my cookies sucked?”

My mother frowns at me. “It didn’t matter if your cookies sucked.”

“Of course it did.” The doors open and I push her in, wedging her all the way at the back so Julian and LaShawn fit in with us. As soon as everyone is in I punch the button for the third floor.

“Cookies weren’t the only thing she kept track of.” My mother’s explaining my love of notebooks to LaShawn now. “She had lists for her grades. Her college applications. She even had one keeping track of how long it took her to get up and down the stairs in our apartment building.”

Now she was just making me sound crazy. “I don’t have that one anymore.”

I don’t have time.

“I wish you didn’t have any of those notebooks anymore.” My mom’s eyes rest on me as the elevator carries us higher. “I always hoped one day you would realize life isn’t a competition.”

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