Loving the Senator (Capitol Affairs #1) (13 page)

“I have tried for years to find her with no avail. It is a sad situation, and has been since Deidre was a teenager. It is even worse now that I just found out she was in prison,” said Beulah, with tears in her eyes.

“I understand, and again, I am sorry it’s the first you’ve heard of this,” said Doctor Thomas.

She was pulling a pen out of her pocket, and her cell phone beeped.

Beulah fished a Kleenex out of her purse.

“Would you like to see her? Remember she is unconscious, but can hear you. She was in a lot of pain, so we have given her medication for that. The oxygen is making her comfortable, as well. I am sure she doesn’t look anything like she did when you last saw her.”

I just nodded. As we started walking toward her room, I felt the panic start. I took a deep breath and practiced my tools I used to keep it together. Breathe slowly, focus. From a distance, I saw what looked like a skeleton lying in a hospital bed.

I walked into the dim hospital room holding onto my grandmother’s hand tightly. To see my mom in that shape, terrified me. Lying before me was a woman that looked like she was already dead. Her skin was gray, and her cheeks were drawn in, making her look more skeletal and old. It seemed to be a struggle each time she gasped for air. Seeing inside her opened mouth, I noticed she had no teeth. Her mouth sucked in like an old lady’s. Her lips were colorless, and seemed very dried and cracked. Her hair was just clumps of brown and blond on her nearly-bald head. Her heart beat in her frail chest as if she was running a race. She had on a thin blanket, and under the blanket, I could make out the emaciated outline of my mom’s ailing body. An oxygen tube was going into her nose, forcing air into her. Though barely opened, her eyes seemed to be looking at something we could not see. Her fingers looked skeletal and yellow from the years of smoking. I was in disbelief at what I was seeing.

An armed guard stood by her bed. He looked big and menacing, and out of place standing next to my mom’s oxygen machine. My mom was not going anywhere, and she wasn’t getting out of there alive. They had her one hand handcuffed to the bed railing. Why now? Where was a dying woman going to run to when she was in a coma?

The guard nodded his head at me with no expression on his face. He was a stone statue the color of mahogany, and arms as big as a superhero’s. He was very intimidating to be guarding a dying woman. His navy blue uniform stretched tight against his broad chest as he towered over us. On his hip was a gun, big, bulky, and frightening.

Beulah went to her bed, smiled at the guard, took off the rag on my mom’s head, and kissed her forehead. He kept his eyes on her, without blinking once. My mind was made up that I didn’t like him.

The tears streamed down my grandmother’s face as she looked at her daughter. The last time she saw my mom, Deidre was young, healthy, and beautiful. Beulah pulled up a chair and sat beside her, holding on to the bed railings. I stayed close to the door, too petrified to get any closer. Everything I saw was almost more than I could bear to witness. The beeping of her heart monitor seemed deafening to my ears. As I stood and stared, trying to grasp the reality of what was happening; a nurse came in and introduced herself.

“Hi, I am Elaine. I have been Deidre’s nurse, and I am going to take care of her tonight,” she said, with a smile. “Hello, Marshall,” she said to the armed guard.

He smiled, which looked strange on his serious face.

Elaine was a large lady with dark, long hair and big, blue eyes. She had gentleness about her that I’m sure was standard for someone taking care of dying patients. She began doing what she had to: making my mom comfortable. Putting on rubber gloves and a mask, she put more medicine in an IV for her, and checked the oxygen going into her nose. She lifted her blanket and protruding out were two broomstick legs. My mom moaned a couple of times.

“She can hear you, and she feels me doing things to her. She makes noises every once in a while, but she is out of it,” said the nurse, looking at both of us.

“Did the doctor give you an update on Deidre?” the nurse asked.

“She told us Deidre had a couple of days to live, was unconscious, and in a lot of pain,” Beulah said.

“She is not in pain anymore. We have taken care of that with morphine, haven’t we Deidre? You are feeling much better now,” said the nurse, into my mom’s ear. She whispered to us just in case my mom heard. “She is near passing away. I think it will be in a day, two at the most. You can tell by her skin. See, her hands are getting blue at the tips, and her legs are turning blue. We took the blankets off her because she was sweating. That is why I put a cool rag on her head. Do you have any questions for me? I know it’s a lot to take.”

“Can we stay here tonight?” asked Beulah.

I didn’t want to stay there. The thought terrified me. What would happen when death did come? I wasn’t strong enough to be there when she took her last breath. Please Elaine, say no, I said in my head.

Elaine looked up at Marshall, and he nodded his head at her. This time he didn’t smile.

“Both of you can stay. You are just going to have to put up with Marshall glaring at you. I will bring in cots later, and you can just put them in here with Deidre. Remember, you can still talk to her. She has had no visitors ‘till the both of you showed up, and I am so glad someone is here. I have seen too many people die alone,” said the nurse.

She was checking my mom’s vital signs and rinsing off her rag on her forehead.

“How long was she here?” asked my grandmother.

“Oh, I think five days. Marshall brought her to the ER, and he has been here with her. When she first came in, she could talk some. I asked her if she had someone I should call, and she said she couldn’t remember. Deidre had a fever of 104 degrees and full-blown pneumonia.”

My grandmother felt it necessary to go into the history of how my mom ended up where she was at forty-one years old. They talked for a while, and I just stared at my mom. I wanted to understand how someone who could have had it all, ended up in her situation.

Maybe now she would find the peace that she needed. I felt such a pity for her for the first time. It was a pity that she had to die that way, and pity for her that she had to be handcuffed to a bed as she passed. I was no longer angry with her, and I wanted to tell her before she went.

The nurse left and my grandmother went to the cafeteria to get us coffee.

I watched my grandmother walk out of the room with her head down, wiping more tears away.

The courage to be near her took over, and I walked over to her bed. With the memories of our life flooding my head, and tears filling my eyes, I knew I had to speak to her. I was afraid to touch her or get too close. I blocked out the fact this strange man was standing by her bed as I was about to spill my guts for the last time.

“It is me, Prudence. Grandma and I came to see you. I want you to know that I am not mad at you for what happened. I know you were suffering. I want you to know I appreciate you sending me to Beulah’s. It was the best thing you did for me. It was your way of taking care of me, in the only way you knew how at the time. I love you mom. I know you loved me in your own way. We had quite the adventure, you and I. I am glad you were my mom. Please know that. You did the best you could at that time. I survived and I am fine. It’s okay if you have to go. I will be okay. I’m dating Alex Conrad, mom. He’s the guy that got shot at our house. He lived, and I’m in love with him. He is incredible. Thank you for bringing him into my life, too. Remember, you thought he was gay. It turns out he isn’t. Please know that no matter what, I love you and I always will.”

I cried, and my tears dropped on her blanket. My mom’s heart struggled to keep beating. I wanted to lift her out of the bed and make her walk out of there, and do everything over again, but I knew that was not possible. I wanted her to wake up and get another chance. Everything has its place, and there was nothing I could do to change it. I could not make my mom walk, just like I could not make her stop taking drugs. It was beyond my control.

“I forgive you for everything,” I whispered again. “It wasn’t your fault. I hope you realize that. Rest now, mom. Everything is going to be okay.”

Looking up, Beulah was standing by the door. She was crying and holding two cups of coffee. Whatever happened, my mom had my forgiveness.

My mom’s eyes settled, and her breathing became more relaxed that night. We did end up staying there overnight, but I could not sleep, so I sat in a chair that reclined and watched my mom struggle to breath. She passed away early the next morning.

It was a tough morning, as I watched as my mom’s good and loving spirit leave her body. She took her last breath and was finally free of the life that made it so impossible to find peace.

Chapter Thirteen

My mom was cremated the next day. Beulah wanted to have a service for her in Ohio where my mom spent most of her life. I helped her with the planning, and soon after, I called and talked to Alex and told him everything that happened.

“Prudence, I am so glad you called. Are you okay? I have been praying for you, baby,” he said.

“I am better than I thought. It is so good to hear your voice, Alex. She looked so awful. You would’ve never recognized her,” I said.

I lay on my hotel bed staring at the television and longing for Alex. Devastated I lost my mom that way, yet the tears just didn’t come once we left the hospital. Beulah had been crying since we got to Ohio, and I worried about her condition. We had been there for four days, and I could not wait to get back to my life. I spoke to Victoria and told her about my mom passing away and I would be back to work on Monday. She was very sympathetic and told me to take as much time as I needed.

“I miss you, Alex. I should be home by Sunday night,” I said.

“Good, I need to see you. I hate being away from you this long. I will be at the airport to get you Sunday. You sound good, you sound like you are doing all right,” he said.

“I just want to put this behind me, and I don’t want this to hurt you in any way,” I told him.

“Don’t worry about me. Nothing is going to hurt me. You just take care of yourself, be there for Beulah, and get back home to me. I can’t sleep at night if you aren’t snuggled up next to me. I miss your soft, warm, body and that red hair, draped across me,” he said.

“Oh, is that all?” I playfully asked.

“I am not going into the fact that I need to be inside of you because we both know you get too worked up. Just imagine the things I’m going to do with you when I see you.”

“One more day, Alex, and I will be home,” I said.

The day of the service, many of Deidre’s friends, crowded into the small church. A lot of people didn’t recognize me until I introduced myself to them. A few didn’t care, and some knew my mom after I left and never knew I existed.

I don’t remember my mom ever going to mass, or mentioning anything religious, but Beulah insisted it be held at the local Catholic Church. White roses, my mom’s favorite, arrived the morning of the service. Everyone that claimed to be her friend, looked strung out on drugs and defeated with no drive at all. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes filled the air along with the familiar smell of my childhood, marijuana. That smell brought back a slew of memories I had forgotten until now. The trailer would be filled with smoke and my clothes reeked of the smell. The scent of marijuana was always around me when I was with my mom.

After the service, Beulah rented the hall next to the church and had food brought in from the local restaurant for anyone that wanted to stop. The place was wall-to-wall people, filling up their plates and smoking.

The biggest shock of the day was my old friend, Veena, walking towards me at the reception. She came up to me out of nowhere, and when I saw her, I gasped. I would have never guessed it was her in a million years. She had not called me since the first couple months I left Ohio almost eight years ago. Standing in front of me was a girl obviously high on something. She resembled a vampire, dressed from head to toe in black. Veena was paper white, her lips painted black with layers of eyeliner on her eyes, and she had piercings in her lips and nose. Her arms were covered in tattoos, and she had on chains around her neck. I could not believe what I saw.

“Hey, Prude. I am so glad to see you. Holy shit, you look so different. You are so classy now, and lost so much weight,” she said, coming up to me. She hugged me tight and smelled of cigarette smoke, just like my mom.

“Man, is that a wig you’re wearing? Your hair is so nice,” she said, wobbling as she tried to walk. She wore tall, knee-high boots with giant heels that looked like something out of a horror movie, and a long black overcoat with a chain hanging out of her pants pocket. Veena brought a guy along who was just as disturbing. He wore a black trench coat and his entire body, covered in tattoos, looked slouched. He had black fingernails, black lips, and piercings all over his face.

“Hi, Veena. I am surprised to see you. I called so many times, and you never called me back. I just gave up ever talking to you again.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“I never got the messages, dude. I just thought you forgot about me. Did you leave a message?” she laughed, and looked up at this guy standing next to her.

“Yes, I left several for your grandmother. I had no other way of calling you.”

I didn’t know what else to say, and I felt uncomfortable with her.

“Dude, that’s the problem. She never told me,” she said.

She laughed nervously, and looked at the guy she’d brought again. He made no hint of emotion as he stood there like a rock, void of any expression.

I felt slighted, and tried to figure out what could be wrong with her. In my opinion, she acted as if she was on something, or near a mental breakdown. I could not look into her eyes because just like her boyfriend, she had weird, unnatural, contacts in both eyes. Her eyes resembled cat eyes. The whole situation felt wrong.

“I lost your number, Prude. I thought about going to see your mom and asking her, but soon after you left, I didn’t see her around much,” she said.