Mollie + Chester

Chapter Seventeen

Seth laughed at one of the many movies he had put on the old television attached to the roof and squeezed my hand, sending warmth into my cold fingers. I tried to open my eyes again for the millionth time but they wouldn't listen.
It had been about a week since the fire, I only know this from Mum's few words with Seth when it was breakfast lunch or dinner and she forced him to eat something. She also took a phone call in my room where I overheard a conversation between the builders and Mum who said the house had started getting fixed, but they still needed to stay in the motel near the hospital.
"Mollie, these movies are so terrible, they're great!" Seth yelled laughing again. I could still hear the sadness in his voice, he still cried almost every day, but it was getting better. I guess he was getting used to me in this new 'paused' state again. He had accepted that for now, I was not going to get better or worse so he just hung around waiting for something to happen.
"Oh, Seth, you should go eat something," my Mum said, her footsteps sounding lightly against the hard floor. "You've been here for a while." So it was lunch time then. She said the same thing three times a day, beginning with her sigh at the start of the sentence.
"Alright," Seth groaned letting go of my hand and moving for the door.
"Why don't you have the window open?" Mum asked moving to heave it open letting the sunny air inside. "It's such a beautiful day."
"Mhm," he murmured pushing the door to my room open, the hinges creaking.
Mum slipped into the puffy chair beside my bed and took my hand just as my chest felt like it exploded. The machines around me beeped loudly and Mum screamed, clutching my hand tighter. I started to cough, not being able to sit up or open my eyes to make the pain more bearable. Footsteps were loud as nurses and doctors came running, to be honest, I thought they sounded like the drums the guy on the corner played.
"What's happened?" Seth asked running into the room. He stopped when he saw me and it sounded like he had crumpled to the floor there.
I thought I heard someone say to get them out of the room but the words were all mushing together and it sounded like I was underwater. My fingertips started to go numb and it was as if a fire was suddenly extinguished in my chest. I tried to hear more, hear the doctors or nurses saying something that would tell me what was happening but my ears were apparently not working anymore.
The last thing I thought before I lost consciousness completely was I wish someone would cross my fingers.

"Dad, there's someone at the door!" Sierra called running down the stairs with Chester flopping from her arms. Alana ran ahead but on the last step, she slipped on her floppy bunny slippers and she fell face first into the soft mat below.
"Ow!" She cried, as Sierra giggled and ran for the door.
"Who is it?" She asked opening it the tiniest bit. Chester stuck his nose through the crack in the door. It turned out staying at the Sognatore house was never peaceful or quiet. He was always in the arms of Toby or one of the sisters, mostly the twins who insisted on taking him everywhere. Even little Emma fought over the right to hold him, tugging on Chester's tail and pulling his into her lap so she could cuddle him.
"Oh, it's Mollie's mother, honey," the woman said trying to smile but it just made her look like she was about to cry again. Tears spilled over from her eyes and ran non-stop over her cheeks.
"Dad!" Sierra called again, letting Chester's owner's mother through the door. She stopped in the hallway, though this time she came in the house she didn't have a look of disgust. She didn't care that the floor was covered in dust or that the little girl had food smeared all over her face and clothes.
Toby's father came in through the big archway carrying a crying Alana on one hip and a warm bottle of milk for Emma in the other. Despite the length of time Chester had spent in that home, he never really got used to how busy the family was.
"Hello, Heather" he said before taking in her dishevelled appearance. She wore mismatched shoes and socks as well as a flowery dress and stockings with holes in them. Her hair had pins that fell out every time she moved. "Is it Mollie?"
Mrs Mocomile acted as if he hadn't spoken and stared at the ground.
"Why don't you come and sit down?" He said leading her to the kitchen. He placed Alana on her feet. "Go get into bed and I'll kiss you goodnight soon," he whispered and she ran upstairs with her sister who had let Chester go on the floor. He padded across the tiles and jumped up onto Mrs Mocomile's lap who had sat at the table in front of a box of tissues.
Both of Toby's father sat across from the distraught mother and waited for her to begin to talk while the mother made three cups of coffee.
"Oh..." Mrs Mocomile started, but she instantly dissolved into a mess of tears. "I didn't want to tell you over the phone. They don't think she'll last... She is so tiny, her body can't fight anymore."
"How long?" Toby's father asked.
"Oh, she won't... Survive another coughing fit." She cried even more, holding her head in her hands and using up all the tissues. "They gave her a week."
Toby's mother came over and put her hands on Mrs Mocomile's shoulders. Chester meowed and rubbed his nose against the table, then nudged the mother's hand.
"Thank you for coming to tell us," Toby's father said.
The crying mother nodded and rose, letting Chester jump down onto the tiles. Another round of sobs overcame her as she stood hanging onto the mismatched kitchen chair.
"Do you need anything? I can drive you back to the hospital or..."
Mrs Mocomile shook her head. "Oh, you stay with your family," she whispered so softly Chester doubted if the parents heard her. "I just need Mollie."
That was when the little baby Emma came waddling into the room. She walked straight over to Mrs Mocomile and tugged on the mother's skirt, holding up her hands as if trying to get her attention. Mollie's mother knelt down next to the little girl, wiping the news tears from her eyes.
"Sad?" Emma asked hanging onto Mrs Mocomile's hand.
The lady smiled through her tears and scooped Emma up into her arms. She then stood, holding the girl on her hip.
"Oh, you remind me of Mollie, you know?" She said.
"Mollie?" She asked having only understood one word. She looked around the room for a few seconds as if searching for Mollie before losing her train of thought. "Cookie!"
Mrs Mocomile put the little girl down on the floor and she ran off over to her Mum, screaming the word cookie over and over.
"Oh, she is definitely like Mollie." Mrs Mocomile wiped her tears again and straightened up to leave.
"Bye, bye!" Emma called waving her cookies that she held in both hands in the air.
"Bye, bye," Mollie's mother whispered. Chester meowed just as she left, causing little Emma to squat down beside him and start patting him.
"Cat," she said surely. "Chest."