[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Slowly she lifted her head, keeping her eyes shut to keep the water out, and angled her head slightly to the right in the direction of the sound.There it was again.Her heavy chest sagged.Mother was awake.She could barely speak, couldn’t get around without major assistance, but the one thing she could do was ring that damned bell.“Coming!” she yelled, tossing her head back to throw her voice.Water and the specially formulated soap slid down into her eyes.The sting was red-pepper hot and in concert with the string of expletives that burst from her lips as she hopped from bare foot to bare foot, tossing cold water on her face while trying to squeeze the pain out of her eye.Momentarily blinded in one eye, she pressed a cold cloth to it as she hurried to tend to her mother.“Mornin’.Sorry, I was in the bathroom.”Her mother’s brows drew together and her mouth tried to form words.“Got some soap in my eye when I was washing my face,” Leslie explained as she approached the bed.“Need to get up?”Theresa bobbed her head, the faintest sound which could have been “yes” was barely audible.Leslie lowered the railing on her mother’s hospital bed, something the hospital insisted that she purchase to ensure that Theresa didn’t take a tumble.At her age, the doctor had warned, a broken hip was more deadly than a stroke.Of course, her mother’s medical plan didn’t cover a hospital bed, so Leslie had to dip in to her meager business account to buy it.And pretty soon the coverage for the home health attendant was going to be cut off as well.The doctor insisted that Theresa should have been doing much better by now.Her brain cells were normal and there was no major neurological damage.At this point, Gracie, the physical therapist, was beginning to believe that Theresa’s inability to speak and move around on her own was more in her head than in her body, which she’d quietly expressed to Leslie on more than one occasion.“Your mother wants your attention, not mine,” she’d said one evening last week on her way out.“What do you mean? I’m not a therapist.”“No, but you’re her daughter.”Leslie thought about the remark as she practically lifted her mother out of the bed, both of them grunting and grimacing as Theresa was finally steady enough to grip the handles of her walker and shuffle to the bathroom.Beads of sweat dotted Leslie’s forehead and slid down her temples as she plopped down on the narrow bed, feeling it sink beneath her, in sharp contrast to her near weightless mother.She inhaled slow and deep and wondered how much longer she could do this.It was a cruel trick from the Almighty that after years of animosity, verbal standoffs and hostility, the two of them would be forced to live with each other.And her mother, who’d never mothered her, was reduced to having to depend on the one person who held her in contempt.They may have to love one another for no reason beyond the ties of blood that bound them, but they despised who they were as people.Neither of them lived under the illusion that there was a relationship between them.Leslie listened to the muffled flush of the toilet, followed by running water in the sink.She checked the bedside clock.It was almost nine.Her appointment was at one.She needed to fix breakfast, straighten her mother’s room, help her eat and get dressed and hopefully Gracie would arrive in time so that she could make her one o’clock meeting.Bracing her palms on the side of the bed she pushed up and stood, pausing momentarily to make sure she didn’t experience another episode.She walked over to the bathroom and tapped lightly on the door.“You okay?”Theresa grunted her response, which Leslie took for a yes.“I’m going to fix breakfast.” She started to tell her that she would be going out as soon as Gracie arrived, but thought better of it.Recently, each time Leslie made plans to go out, or had an appointment that would take her out of the house, Theresa would become totally unmanageable.She wouldn’t eat, refused to participate in her physical therapy, wouldn’t help at all in getting herself in and out of bed or off the recliner, preferring to transform herself into dead weight.Leslie felt chained to the house, chained to her mother, and she resented it and her more every day.Today she didn’t give a damn what tricks her mother pulled.She wasn’t going to blow this appointment.It was too important.Securing this job and doing it well could finally get her the recognition she’d been struggling to attain in the design business.She’d done a variety of small jobs; friends’ home office spaces, the lounge at Downbeat, a couple of start-up businesses, but nothing on the scale of a nightclub.Getting this job meant freedom.It was the least her mother could do for her.Gracie arrived by noon, which gave Leslie a good half hour to get herself ready, although she wouldn’t have a minute left to spare.The moment Gracie arrived, Theresa’s eyes brightened like a light in a dark room.Leslie’s feelings for Gracie hovered on the fence.On one side she desperately needed her to make living with her mother bearable.On the other she resented the give-and-take between her mother and Gracie.Theresa saved her weak smiles, eagerness and mini-milestones of physical improvement all for Gracie.All she got were grunts, and looks of scorn or disappointment—she no longer knew the difference.Her mother had such a low level of tolerance that nightly Leslie questioned why she bothered.As she put on her wool coat, which was getting too small, she knew why she bothered.There was a tiny part of her—the little girl in her—that was still looking for her mother’s love and acceptance.And maybe if she ever attained it, maybe if her mother could ever love her enough, she would tell her what she needed and deserved to know about who she was.Leslie buttoned her too-tight coat, threw a wool scarf around her neck and heard the shredding sound of the inside lining of her coat opening up like a chasm.Muttering a curse she turned over her shoulder.“I should only be gone a couple of hours [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]