Chapter Twenty-Two
Olivia
I couldn't believe what I was hearing from Eric. My mother lay dying in a hospital bed, and he was blaming me for it? As though I hadn't done everything that I could.
“Maybe if you had done your job and convinced her that she needed treatment, we wouldn't be here!” I found myself shouting. “Rather than have me try to talk to her, with my utter lack of medical experience, maybe you should have found some way to convince her. I'm sure you have experience with stubborn patients. But you didn't even try!”
“As a doctor, I ultimately have to leave it up to the patient,” Eric snarled. “Which is what I did. I laid out all the facts, I told her how serious this was, and I even reminded her that it wasn't just herself that she'd be hurting if she didn't get the treatment. What else was I supposed to say to her? I don't know her the way that you do; you should have been able to find a way to reason with her.”
It was like a slap in the face; basically, what he was implying was that Mom didn't care enough about me to want to prolong her life. I knew that wasn't the case. I remembered what Mom had said about chemo ruining a person's quality of life. She just wanted to make sure that if she was alive, she was able to do everything that she wanted to do, rather than just hanging around as an empty husk, unable to work or garden or do any of the other things that she loved.
The fact that Eric would dare imply otherwise made me even more upset.
“Well, I can't force someone to receive treatment either, even if she is my mother,” I snapped. “I did my best to convince her, but, as you said, ultimately it was her decision.”
“You gave up too easily,” Eric said. “How many times did you even talk to her? You didn't want to have the conversation; you were perfectly happy just pretending that the cancer didn't exist, just like she was.”
“I tried, over and over again to talk with her. She didn’t want to deal with it.” I asked. “Again, I don't have any sort of medical background. I never had all the details on what was wrong with her, all the facts. I didn't know how far along we were or what might happen to her if she didn't get chemo, not in anything more than an abstract sense. What was I supposed to do?”
“You don't have to have a medical background to know that cancer often leads to death,” Eric said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes at me.
I was silent for a long moment, tears still streaming down my face. I wiped at them, but more just took their place. I didn't understand why we were fighting about this. I could understand if there was still that unresolved tension between us, but I had thought that we had solved that. I thought we were okay. I would have expected him to comfort me. That was why he had been the first person I'd called after Mom complained to me: not because Eric was her doctor but because Eric was my friend. Or so I had thought.
I didn't know where this mean and angry-spirited man had come from. I had never seen Eric like this before.
But it's not like I know him well, I realized. We'd been on a couple dates; that was all. If he'd just wanted to sleep with me, it would have been in his best interest to be nice on those dates. Look where it had got him. But maybe this was what he was really like.
I didn't want to believe it, but a part of me was increasingly sure that the kind, charming Eric that I'd previously thought I'd known had been just a façade. I swallowed hard and shook my head.
“I did the best I could,” I repeated, for my own benefit as well as his. “Apparently that wasn't good enough.”
Eric didn't say anything.
“Where is she?” I asked. “I can see her, can't I?”
“She's down this hall, room 118,” Eric told me. “She's been asking for you.”
“And there's nothing that we can do at this point?” I asked, hating the desperate note that crept into my voice. But this is where we were at at the moment. I was desperate to figure out some way to miraculously save her, even though apparently all hope was gone.
“The chemo can't help at this point; the cancer has advanced too much,” Eric said dully. “We could try to remove the tumors from her lungs, but it would be a risky operation and a risky recovery, and at this point, the cancer is already in her blood. There's nothing we can do.”
I folded in on myself, wishing stupidly that he had lied to me, that he had told me that there was something that we might be able to do. I had never felt so helpless in my life.
And I knew that part of the reason I was so angry with him, part of why I was so desperate to pass the blame onto him, was because I was guilty. He was right. I should have tried harder. I hadn't pushed like I knew that I should have.
But did he have to be so mean about it?
“I'm going to get Emma out of here,” Eric said. “I don't want her around the hospital. I'll try to find someone else to watch her this week if you want to stay here with your mom rather than running the daycare.”
“How long does she have?” I asked, even though I hated saying the words.
Eric was silent for a long moment. “Not long,” he finally said. “Could be weeks. Could be days.”
I dissolved into tears, but Eric didn't move to comfort me. Instead, he stared impassively at me for a long moment and then strode briskly from the room, leaving me there by myself.
By myself, with…
I put my hand over my stomach, remembering my unborn child. Our unborn child. Even if Mom managed to hang on for a few more months, she wasn't going to be around to meet her grandchild. I remembered how much she had always wanted to have grandchildren, and I felt an irrational surge of anger.
Why hadn't she gotten the chemotherapy when she knew that was the only thing that could slow down her cancer? Wasn't it the responsibility of a mother to do everything in her power to ensure that her child was happy? I didn't want to watch her die, not like this, and definitely not now.
And there was this argument with Eric. I felt suddenly uncertain about the child. I still hadn't told him about it, and I had to wonder what his reaction would be. Would he try to blame me for that as well? Would he be just as angry and upset and unreasonable?
I swallowed hard. I knew that I had to tell him sooner rather than later, but I had to wonder if he would even talk to me again, after this argument.
I leaned against the hospital bed for support, my knees feeling weak and my blood roaring in my ears. Suddenly, everything in my life seemed to be going wrong. It had been ever since I'd moved to Tamlin, and I had to wonder what I had done to piss off the universe in such a big way. A dying mother, an unsuccessful daycare, an unhappy non-relationship, and an unexpected pregnancy: could it get any worse than that?
I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I had to see Mom. I had to tell her I was sorry and apologize for not insisting that she get the treatment that she needed. I had to tell her about the baby, but I wasn't sure if I could. Maybe it would only stress her out, knowing that she wouldn't be here for the birth, knowing that I was about to become a single mother, just like she had been.
I took a few more deep breaths, but I couldn't seem to quit crying. Finally, I sunk to the floor, realizing I had no choice but to let it all out.