The Space Beyond (The Book of Phoenix) (21 page)

“Oh, of course,” the younger man, Dr. Munthe, said. He obviously recognized the name, but his dark brows pushed together, he cocked his balding head and squinted his brown eyes as though confused. “Um, I haven’t seen him in a long time. I guess you’d have to ask his attending. Why?”

Now Sissy and I did the look-exchanging-thing. Not at the “attending” part because I didn’t know or care what that meant.

“He’s Mama’s doctor?” I said, unable to mask the sarcasm. “Shouldn’t he be here? Shouldn’t he be the one deciding what to do?”

Dr. Wilcoxson’s bushy, gray brows pinched together as he looked at Dr. Munthe again.

“
We’re
your mother’s doctors,” Dr. Wilcoxson said. “Most people prefer speaking with us than a resident, especially when the condition is this grave and surgery may be involved.”

“What?” I snipped, thoroughly confused.

“Oh, I know,” Sissy said, her hand going to her chest. “It’s your office Mama goes to, right?”

“Yes,” Dr. Wilcoxson said with a nod, his shoulders relaxing. “We’ve been seeing her for a few years. We’d been hoping to avoid where she is now.” He shook his head, and his mouth turned downwards. “She’s a sweet woman, your mother.”

My eyes popped wide. He couldn’t have been talking about
my
mama. Maybe that’s where the whole confusion started—these guys had the wrong family.

Dr. Wilcoxson placed a hand on my shoulder. “She’s confided a lot to me. You’re Bethany, right?” He waited for me to answer, but I could only nod, feeling dazed. “She regrets so much, young lady. She’s had a rough go at it for a while, and we’ve been fighting it together. I’d hoped my son-in-law here, Dr. Munthe, would be able to continue the fight with her long after I retired.”

“And we will,” Dr. Munthe said. “We won’t let her give up.”

Sissy moved closer to me and took my hand. “We won’t either,” she said. “Right, Bex?”

“Yeah. Right,” I murmured distantly, my mind still reeling.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” Dr. Wilcoxson said, “and see how she’s doing. You two may as well get some rest. There’s nothing to do overnight but pray.”

“We can’t see her?” Sissy asked.

“Maybe for a few minutes after she’s settled in,” Dr. Munthe said. “But she really needs her rest.”

The two doctors left, and Sissy plopped into a chair.

“You’ve never met them?” I asked as I turned toward her.

“I did in the beginning, but only for a minute when I’d taken Mama to an appointment. Dr. Wilcoxson had walked her to the waiting room. I don’t remember seeing either of them here last time she was in the hospital, though. It was always Mason and a couple of other younger ones.”

I dropped into the seat next to her and whipped my phone out of my purse. I dialed Mason’s number, but his recorded voice answered again instead of his real one. I texted him to call me. I crossed my arms over my chest and slung one leg over the other, the top one swinging impatiently. After ten minutes had passed, I texted Mason again. Still no answer.

Chapter 19

The clock on the wall ticked by as we waited on both Mason and the nurse to come get us so we could see Mama. Finally at seven-thirty, the nurse came in.

“One at a time,” he said.

“You go first,” Sissy said to me. “Then you can go home.”

I hesitated at the doorway of the dark room where Mama lay unconscious, on a bunch of machines that filled the space with a rhythm of hisses and beeps. With a deep breath of chemical-infused hospital air, I crossed over to her bed. I didn’t know what to do, so I simply stood there, holding her bony hand in mine, my gaze stuck on her bloated stomach that made her look like she had a baby bump. Her skin was yellow with jaundice, and dry and papery, like the outside of an onion, and I was afraid it’d peel off just as easily.

The nurse had given me ten minutes, and for nine of those minutes I stared at her, stray tears rolling down my cheek as flashes of memories passed through my mind, some good but most of them horrible. A more recent one of a time I’d gone to see her and Sissy came up. Sissy had made a quick run to the store, leaving us alone. I’d been okay with it when she left because Mama had been sleeping, but then she woke up.

“You know, I’ve been sober for a few years,” she’d told me. “Straight, too. Completely off everything. Been goin’ to those anonymous meetings and all.”

Several thoughts had run through my mind. I was glad she’d cleaned herself up, but if she had, why didn’t she come back to us? A few years ago meant she could have at least come to each of our graduations. Come to see Grams.

“It took me a long time to build up the nerve to call ya’ll,” she went on. “I thought ya’ll were better off without me, even if I was clean. Too many hurts there between all us. I reckoned you and Sissy didn’t need me struttin’ back into your lives right when you were startin’ ’em. My sponsor said I needed to, though.” She paused for a long moment, catching her breath. I had nothing to say, because both she and her sponsor were right—we didn’t need her waltzing back into our lives but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t have tried. “See, as part of the twelve steps, we’re s’posed to apologize to the people we’d done wrong. I’d made a few calls, including to your Grams. My mama. I had to tell her how sorry I was for bein’ such a mess.”

She stopped again, this time tears choking her up. I had no idea she’d talked to Grams before we’d received The Call. Grams had never said anything, so I’d figured when Mama called us, it was the first time she’d heard from her, too.

“She wouldn’t listen to me. Said it was ya’ll, you and Sissy, who really needed to hear my apologies.” Mama sniffled and blinked. “I didn’t think ya’ll would give me the time of day, and I was scared. I’d done you and your sister the most wrong. I didn’t see how on earth ya’ll could forgive me. I didn’t want to see the hatred in your eyes I knew you had for me.” Her voice had weakened, and her breath rattled in her chest. But she seemed determined to tell me all of this and pushed on. “When I finally got the guts to call or maybe even go see you, I learnt I was sick. I tried to get better at first, but when they said I prolly had less than a year, I realized for the first time how short life can be. You’d think I know that with your daddy and all, but we never think that applies to ourselves. So, then I realized how little time I had left to make amends with you … to make sure ya’ll would be okay. Especially you, sugar. I didn’t want hate to ruin’t your life. Even if you couldn’t love me again, I wanted you to know I still loved you. Always had.”

Tears had been flowing down my cheeks by then. I swiped at them hard and inhaled a deep breath. Once I’d regained control, I looked over at her. Her eyes had closed, and her jaw had gone slack.

“I love you, too, Mama,” I’d whispered, but I didn’t think she’d heard me. I didn’t know if I wanted her to hear me.

That was the last time I’d seen her awake.

Once again, I brushed tears from my cheek. Even if I forgave her, I’d never forget what she’d done to us. And that’s what made standing here so hard. Part of me wanted to bolt, still thinking she deserved to die alone, but most of me couldn’t do it. The nurse tapped on the glass door. My time was up. As I turned to leave, Mama’s eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to focus on me, and when she did, the corners of her mouth moved in a small smile.

“I’m here, Mama,” I whispered.

“Thank you,” she mouthed.

“Be strong, okay? You fight this.”

She blinked once, which I didn’t know whether that meant yes or no or nothing at all, but I took it as a yes.

“They won’t let me stay in here any longer. It’s Sissy’s turn now. But I’ll be back.”

She blinked again, and then her eyes fell closed. The machines continued their steady sounds, so I figured she’d fallen back asleep and nothing more serious.

I waited in the family room while Sissy visited Mama for her allowed time. My phone finally rang right when she returned.

“Where the hell are you?” Mason demanded as soon as I answered, his voice angrier than I’d ever heard it. “I come home to a mess in the kitchen, no dinner, and you’re gone!”

A mess? There was one covered platter with pork chops marinating in the refrigerator, and a single bowl in the sink.

“I’m at the
hospital
with my
mama
,” I snapped back, my nerves worn. “If you’d answered your phone or even checked your voicemail or texts, you’d know that. Where the hell have
you
been?”

“Working! Where else?”

I snorted. “Well, I’m here, and you’re not. Thought you would be since, you know, this
is
where you work.”

Mason’s voice fell quieter and softer. “Why are you there?”

“Like I said, my mama’s here. She’s in ICU.”

“Oh, Bex, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I kind of panicked when you weren’t here with no note and everything left out. I didn’t think to check my messages, just to call you right away to make sure you were okay.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. He had a funny way of showing his concern.

“I’m fine. I don’t know about Mama, though.”

“Go home and take care of your man,” Sissy said. She’d resigned herself to the idea of Mason and me as a couple when I told her I was moving in with him. About the same time she went to Ty’s fight. She swore up and down they were just friends, and that made sense because he’d been her friend as long as he’d been mine, but I wondered if she wanted it to be more … if she weren’t spending all her time with Mama and all. Not that she would tell me.

I covered the phone. “I want to stay here with you. You don’t need to be alone.”

“I’m goin’ home, too. The nurse said I should. I need to get some things for Mama, and I may as well grab a few hours of sleep while I’m there. There’s nothing we can do here.”

“I’ll be home in a few,” I told Mason, then hung up. “Are you sure? I can go with you.”

She gave me a weird look. “Why would you do that? I’m a big girl. I can handle picking up Mama’s jammies and book. Go on. Sounds like Mason needs you. And maybe he can tell you more about what’s goin’ on with Mama.”

I nodded, and then gave her a hug. We held each other for a long moment before finally breaking apart and heading downstairs to our cars. I didn’t know why, but part of me seriously wanted to go with Sissy, not because she needed help or even company, and definitely not because I wanted to sleep at Mama’s. That part of me simply didn’t want to go home.

But Mason was waiting. Maybe once I was in his arms, I’d feel better.

“What the fuck took you so long?” he demanded as soon as I walked in and closed the door, making me jump. I turned to his figure looming in the dark entranceway.

“It’s only been five minutes,” I said, my heart still pounding. “I came straight here. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m just peachy,” he said as he turned back for the living room. He certainly didn’t sound peachy. He sounded pissed off. And was that a slur in his voice? “Are you finally going to make me dinner?”

I stared at his back as I dropped my purse on the little table that sat in the entrance. “Are you kidding me? You want me to make you dinner
now
?”

He turned and took two long strides until he stood in front of me. Towering over me. “Yes, now, Bex,” he said through a clenched jaw as he glared down his nose, his usually beautiful eyes dark and glassy. The sharp smell of alcohol lingered on his breath. “It’s eight o’clock, and I’m fucking starving. You already started it and left a mess, so get your ass in there and finish it.”

My mouth fell open. My fists balled at my sides. My nostrils flared.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. Are you too drunk to remember what I told you five minutes ago? My mama’s back in the hospital. In ICU, Mason! And you’re worried about your fucking
dinner
?”

His finger flew into my face, and he shook it at me while he spoke. “First of all, I stopped for two drinks after work. I had a long, shitty day and needed to unwind before I came home to your ass whining about how bored you are.”

I opened my mouth, but he jabbed his finger into my chest and went on.

“Second of all, I called the ICU. Your
mama’s
not going to die tonight. Someday, yeah, she is. But not tonight. Not tomorrow. Probably not the next day. So, yes, right now, I want some fucking dinner.”

He grabbed my shoulder, twisted me, and practically shoved me into the kitchen. I stumbled, catching myself on the counter.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled.

“I’m hungry, in case you didn’t notice.” He yanked the refrigerator open with such force, the door flew out of his control and the handle banged against the wall, rattling all the jars of condiments in the door. He pulled out the container of marinating pork chops and set it hard on the counter in front of me.

I crossed my arms over my chest, tears burning the backs of my eyes. I’d never seen this side of Mason before. I’d expected to come home to his comforting embrace and soothing words, not to a monster.

“Cook me dinner, Bex,” he ordered.

Was that it? Was he taking his dominant fun a little too far tonight? Well, I wasn’t going to play this time. I wasn’t in the mood, and he definitely wasn’t in the safe zone.

“No,” I said, and I turned for the living room.

His hand clamped around my upper arm, and he spun me around. “I said to make me dinner, Bex.”

He shoved the platter of meat and juices into my hands. I shoved it back at him. “I said
no
. Make it yourself.”

“Cook for me!” he snarled. “I’ve had a long fucking day. I’m hungry, and I’m tired. Do you have any idea the shit I go through every day? The stress of being a doctor? All I ask is for a nice dinner and some loving when I get home. Is that too much to ask?”

“Tonight it is,” I said through clenched teeth. “Pretend like I’m not here and make your own damn food.”

“After all I do for you—pay your bills and your mom’s and everything—and this is the thanks I get?”

My chest heaved. Tears of anger fell no matter how hard I tried to blink them back.  I clenched my jaw and said quietly, “I’m not your fucking maid or your whore.”

“Are you sure about that?” he sneered, and I felt like I’d been slapped. I should have known, though, that he’d eventually throw everything back in my face.

I yanked the lid off the dish still in my hands and threw it at him.

“Make your own God damn dinner,
doctor
,” I screamed, my voice sounding maniacal as I hurled a pork chop at him. It skimmed by his head but missed. “Or are you even a doctor, Mason?” I threw another, nailing him in the chest. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time, haven’t you? Saying what you thought I wanted to hear so I’d give you some pussy!” A third chop hit his shoulder. “You lied to my mama and my sister, too, you FUCKING IMPOSTER!”

I threw the last one right at his face. When his hand flew up, I thought he meant to catch the meat before it hit him again. But rather than grabbing the chop, his fist slammed into my jaw. Stars shot across my vision. I staggered to my right as pain blossomed over my face. My hand lifted to my cheek, and my mouth fell open.

“Oh, shit, Bex,” Mason said, all anger in his voice gone, replaced by panic. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head side-to-side and stared at him wide-eyed, no words coming. He reached for me. I jerked away and stumbled backwards.

“Don’t you touch me!” I yelled. I spun on my heel, grabbed my purse, and ran out the door.

I flew down the stairs, surprised I didn’t twist an ankle or face plant on my way down as tears blurred my vision. By the time I ran into the parking lot for my car, Mason was yelling after me, making his own flight down the steps. I ignored him, sprinting for my car, glad I’d thrown on my ballet flats rather than heels before leaving for the hospital.

“Bex, please, I’m sorry,” he yelled as he crossed the parking lot. I jumped in my car and slammed the door just as he reached it. He banged his fists on the window. “Please, Bex. It was an accident.”

“Leave me alone,” I yelled loud enough for him to hear me through the window as I cranked over the engine.

“Don’t go, please,” he begged. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I shook my head, put the car in gear, and gave him the finger. “Fuck you, Mason.”

His face fell. His eyes darkened. “Don’t leave me, precious. Please don’t leave me.”