Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (7 page)

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just heard you, and I wanted to see you before you headed out.”

“Okay. Is there anything special you want for dinner tonight?”

“No. But Connor is coming to stay the weekend. I think your father and Gloria need a bit of a break, and so does Connor. Poor kid. Make one of his favorites.”

“That’ll be easy enough.”

Connor inhaled anything and everything. The kid was growing so much.

Making my way over to the cabinets, I pulled out my travel mug and filled it up with coffee. I added organic milk and coconut sugar to it. I liked a little bit of sweetness to help start the day. At this ungodly hour, I needed it.

We heard Lili unlocking the front door with her key before quietly letting herself inside. Since we were practically on the same campus, we carpooled. Well, she rode with me. Her Rhonda, the tiny red Honda, wasn’t the most reliable piece of machinery. It would strain to make it even from her house to here and back. So, we would take my Gretchen the Green Volkswagen. Yeah, I named our cars, too.

“Hi, Mom!” she softly called out.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Mom replied.

Lili had her own travel mug at the ready, filling it with coffee and milk and a hideous amount of white cane sugar.

At least it’s organic,
I told myself.

“Well, you girls have a wonderful day,” said Mom as she stood up.

Lili reached her first, resting her dark head against my mother’s chest and giving her a hug, “I love you, Mom.”

Mom’s face split into her weary smile. “I love you, too, sweet Lili.”

As Lili headed for the front door, I stood there, simply looking at my mother, my heart aching fiercely. There was just so much that I wanted to tell her—how I was feeling, how scared I was, how I just loved her. But I couldn’t. My throat wouldn’t work.

Smiling sweetly, less tired and more joyous, she came up to me and took my face in her hands before pulling me down until she could press her Third Eye to mine. Infused with her love and happiness, I sensed a little bit of regret for things left undone but for nothing that had passed. I could see her—so young and so thrilled because she was holding me, tiny thing that I was at that point in life, in her arms.

“I love you, my Little Zephyr.”

“I love you, too.”

It was difficult to concentrate in school. Anatomy and physiology class really was a favorite of mine, but it seemed I just couldn’t give a shit. I was agitated, and as I watched the seconds tick by at an agonizingly slow pace, it got worse. The taupe walls weren’t soothing. They were mind-numbing. Fluorescent lighting turned everyone and everything into a bluish hue. I didn’t even have the patience to doodle in my notebook.

At the lunch break, I met up with Lili, who seemed just as depressed and irritated as I was. She picked at her food and fidgeted on the bench.

It was as though a dirty fog had tainted everything, an ash-colored film coating the world. I had been seeing the world through this ashy film for a while now. It would be most noticeable when the days were bright and sun-filled, and the sun was a little too brilliant today. The day had turned swamp-hot with a thick humidity.

“You feel it, too, don’t you?” Lili asked, her voice strangled and tinged with worry. “Something’s not right.”

I nodded. “Something hasn’t been right in a long time.”

“I know, but now, it feels worse. Do you think—”

“Yes.”

I thought we were pretty much at the homestretch here, concerning Mom. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how truly awful she’d looked this morning. She had been sluggish and puffy, and her lips had taken on a grayish tinge as though she was a bit oxygenless.

“I think she’s still here only for us. I get the feeling that this is more like borrowed time, that she’s fighting to stay here,” I said quietly. “She needs to know that we love her enough…to let her go.” My chest constricted painfully around my heart. I didn’t know what it was I meant to say, but it sure as hell hadn’t been that.

Lili’s black eyes filled with tears. I saw her throat work as she struggled to swallow around the lump that had swollen there.

“Can I stay the weekend then?” she whispered.

“Of course. You don’t even need to ask. I think we should call Alys when we get home, too. She would want to be here.”

“Should we just ditch the rest of the day? There’s only an hour or so left.”

It was so tempting. My heart and soul were urging me to do so—to just get out of there, head home, and wrap my arms around my mother—as though, if I did, I could infuse her with my strength.

“I have the end-of-the-week testing,” I forced myself to say, finding the conviction in me to stay and complete my responsibilities. “It won’t take me the whole hour. You want to hang out in the car, and I’ll meet you when I finish?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

Fishing the car keys out of my bag, I handed them over. “See you in a bit.”

Each Friday, we students were tested on the various body parts we had learned about all week long. We had to know the names, functions, muscle attachments, and trigger-point locations. We’d also learned about diseases, conditions, and syndromes, so we’d have to identify the symptoms for each and which treatments should be used, if any. We also had to know what sort of medication treated the diseases.

Strangely, considering this field of work was never anything I’d had any previous desire to involve myself with, I was in my element here. I truly found it fascinating. I just wished there wasn’t this black cloud of depression hanging over me because I would be enjoying myself otherwise.

At noon, we were handed the exam, and within twenty minutes, I’d completed it. I should ace it with nothing less than a ninety-five percent. There were a few muscle attachments I should have had better knowledge of, but I could always make up for it in future exams.

Grabbing my gear, I headed out of the classroom without a backward glance. Something inside of me prompted me to move my ass faster, and by the time I reached the parking lot, I had broken out into a jog. Something felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest cavity, wriggling and squirming around in a sickeningly awful way. I was fighting the urge to vomit.

Lili had the car running, the AC and “Over the Hills and Far Away” blasting. As I wrenched the driver’s door open, she took her feet off the dashboard and pulled the passenger seat into an upright position.

At this time of day, the drive home would take about twenty-five minutes. There wasn’t much traffic, but what was out on the roads was fucking putting me into a fit of irritation. Old fucking ladies were driving at the speed of snails. Pedestrians had decided they needed to cross the fucking street at every fucking corner. Every damn traffic light sensed our desperation to reach our destination, thus turning yellow as we approached before turning fucking red.

Finally, we were at the traffic light to turn into Ormond, and my fury was barely held in check.

I swear to the fucking gods, if this fucking light doesn’t turn fucking green in the next two fucking seconds—

We heard sirens in the distance, and my heart skipped a panicked beat. I stared straight ahead of me, twisting the knob for the volume on the radio until there was no sound. Listening so hard, I felt my auditory sense strain.

The light turned green, and slowly, I inched forward, watching for whatever was playing the sirens. It was getting louder, coming from the right now.

First, the fire engine tore at high speed across the intersection where we were about to turn left. Then, an ambulance followed right behind, its lights flashing.

“Oh fuck,” I said weakly, pushing my foot and pedal to the floor. “Oh fuck!” I screamed.

The light turned yellow.

“Just fucking go!” screamed Lili, who was panicking as hard as I was.

At the safest high speed I could take the turn, I blasted through the now red light, cutting off an old beat-up brown pick-up truck. The driver laid on the horn, and Lili, in reflex, flipped him the bird.

We ripped into Ormond as fast as Gretchen could manage, peeling rubber. Her tires squealed painfully as I whipped left, straight past the front of the Plantation House. After another left, we went down the lonely long stretch of back road, and then we took the last left into the cul-de-sac.

Both the fire engine and the ambulance were parked on the street, so I flew Gretchen up the front lawn before braking hard, tearing up some turf
.

Grandma’s going to be pissed about that.

Three
paramedics rushed inside my house with a defibrillator and oxygen tank on a gurney.

“Oh fuck!” I screamed again, throwing the car door open. Whimpering, I sprinted toward the front steps.

Connor burst out the front door, all but tackling me to the ground.

“No!” I wailed, struggling to break free from his vise-like hold on me.

“Calm down, Kenna.”

Calm down? That’s my mother in there!

“Let the paramedics do their job, okay? You’ll just be in the way,” he told me, his own voice cracking and not with adolescence.

I knew he was right. The panic within me melted into despair, and I slumped against him, giving into the need to break down and sob my heart out. I’d deluded myself into thinking that I was ready for this, that I’d be able to be strong when it finally happened. I wasn’t.

I was nothing more than a little girl losing her mother.

Lili stood next to us, openly weeping. When I heard her gasp, I raised my head off Connor’s chest to look at her. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and she made a small squeaking sound. Connor turned both of us to see the paramedics emerge.

Time trickled into slow motion.

My mother lay lifeless on the gurney. One paramedic straddled her frame as he applied chest compressions, her body swaying lazily with each thrust of the man’s upper body and stacked hands. The other two guided the gurney down the steps. An air pump mask covered her face.

They placed her in the ambulance, slammed the double doors, and drove off, lights flashing.

Time surged back to normal speed, and my brain kicked into operating mode.

“Grandma,” I whispered.

Connor finally released me, allowing me to rush into the house.

I found her walking around, gathering her sweater, house keys, and The Beast—her massive black quilted bag that had everything from aspirin to Zoo Animal Crackers.

“Oh, good. You’re home,” she said, her voice steady and calm. “Aunt Denise is coming to drive me to the hospital. I’m in no state to drive right now.”

Denise was Grandma’s lifelong best friend. I had only ever known her as Aunt Denise.

“I’ll drive you, Grandma,” I said.

Walking up to me, she took my hands in hers. “None of us should be driving right now. Call Mama Sally and see if she can drive you all over there, okay, honey?”

She was so…calm. I thought her lack of emotion was more disturbing than if she had been hysterical. But then, I realized that she was in shock. She couldn’t accept it any more than I could. This woman had just watched as her only child was carried lifeless from her home—the very home where her child had grown up, had taken her first steps, and spoken her first words. This home had a whole life from beginning to—

“Okay,” I replied softly.

She reached up and her slightly shaking hand rested cool and dry against my cheek. She smiled sadly at me, attempting to be brave during the most terrifying moment of our lives.

“We’re gonna need to be strong for each other—”

“Grandma?” Connor called out. “Aunt Denise is here.”

Hoisting The Beast over her shoulder, she headed for the door. Her back straight and her shoulders squared, she walked as though she truly were heading into battle and not to Aunt Denise’s maroon station wagon. Silently, I trailed behind her, escorting her to the car in a stunned mental fog. Connor opened the passenger door for her, and the three of us watched as they pulled out and drove off.

“We need to call Alys,” Lili said quietly as we made our way back inside.

I used the kitchen phone, praying she was in her dorm room. She carried a cell phone, but she only ever used it for emergencies, keeping the bill low. Connor started busying himself by making us all a pot of coffee.

“Hello?” Alys answered after the second ring.

Her sweet light voice brought me a sliver of comfort.

“Alys—”

“Hey, Sweet Pea,” she said.

Sweet Pea was her nickname for me. I couldn’t remember when she’d started calling me that. When I was a kid, I’d thought she deserved to be called Muffin in return, and I had called her that ever since.

“What’s up?”

“Mom—” I choked, my comfort sliver dissipating.

“I’m on my way,” she said before hanging up.

I phoned Mama Sally, and twenty minutes later, the front door opened.

Mama Sally called out, “Hello?”

“Back porch,” I called back.

Mama Sally came out and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight. “Tell me what happened,” she said, her voice so light and soothing.

Mama Sally had to be the most wonderfully gentle person I had ever known. It was where Alys had gotten her own peaceful demeanor. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Mama Sally lose her temper.