480 Hours

14 | I'm Doing My Best

Maggie Bailey

I was not entirely sure what to expect when Landon surprised me only hours prior by asking me to meet his mother. In the past, it was an idea that we both sort of avoided bringing up. I knew I wanted to meet Holly, but I also caught on very quickly that Landon was extremely protective of the people in his life that he cared about. Although we were "dating" according to his earlier statement in the hallway, I honestly hadn't expected him to ever introduce me to his mother.

Landon was so much like his mother; it was almost shocking. Both were smart, kind, confident, and witty individuals that genuinely seemed happier when they were in one another's presence. Although I hadn't known her before, I could tell that prior to her diagnosis, Holly had once been an even more energetic and lively woman. Now, she looked exhausted, sickly, underweight, yet somehow happy; happy that her son was finally home to be with her, even if the circumstances were not ideal.

When I asked Holly what Landon was really like as a child, she let out a weak laugh before closing her eyes involuntarily. I let her finish her breathless response before excusing myself from the room, claiming I needed caffeine. Holly smiled grateful, half asleep, while Landon offered to accompany me.

Knowing they needed a moment alone, I declined.

Walking down the long sterile hallways of the oncology wing filled with dejected cancer patient's families instantly changed my small smile to a desolate frown. Although I hated the way that my parents had passed away, I wasn't entirely sure that watching them wither away day after day without an opportunity to recover would have been any better, especially for a nine-year-old.

As I pressed the down button for the elevator, I prepared myself for the nauseous feeling I tried without success to avoid every time I stepped into a hospital elevator. Whenever the doors closed to the extra-large metal box meant for hospital stretchers, I always felt as though I was going to pass out, throw up, or some odd combination of the two. After pressing one of the only five buttons accessible to the public, I sat patiently in the corner of the box, waiting.

When the elevator screeched to a halt in the familiar way I had grown accustomed to during Liam's stay at the hospital, I knew I had reached the bottom floor of the hospital. The floor that housed both the cafeteria and morgue, side by side.

As I stepped out, a wave of déjà vu washed over as I thought of the dozens of times I had taken that exact ride down to the cafeteria, thinking only of Liam. Well, Liam and the man currently sitting at a table in front of me, taking his lunch.

Blake Johnson.

So many times I had seen this exact seen played out in front of my eyes. So many times I had carelessly sat next to him, stealing half of the turkey and avocado sandwich he always seemed to have, regardless if the cafeteria's staff had stocked it that day or not. So many tears, jokes, and smiles had been shared between Blake and I in that very room. Yet, now I had the urge to turn around and head back into the headache inducing elevator without so much as a head nod in his direction.

Before I could change my mind and go marching towards the man that had been there to comfort me for months, only to never make a move and lose contact after Liam was sent home; I spun on my heel and pressed the up button, calling back the elevator.

"Maggie, hey, over here!" With a slight grimace on my face, I spun around, greeted with Blake's perfectly straight white teeth. No matter how I tried, I couldn't stop the involuntary butterflies that fluttered in my stomach as I watched him pull out a chair to his left.

With a weak smile and a little reluctance, I walked towards Blake. "Fancy seeing you here; I thought your lunches are normally around three?" I felt my face warm up as I let it slip that I still remembered his schedule.