On The Devil, We Ride

2

From the moment I left, I vowed that nothing would ever bring me back here. Nothing. That was before I got the dreaded phone call from the hospital. It turned out my mom had been fighting a losing battle with stage four cancer, and I had only just found out. I dropped everything to fly back to California, packing up my small amount of possessions into a couple of suitcases. The doctor I spoke with told me my mom probably only had about 6 months left, if that. Since I had no idea when I'd be back, I'd decided to sell anything I couldn't transport and gave notice on my job and tiny apartment I was renting. It was slightly depressing how quickly I had managed to pack up my whole life. I only worked as a receptionist at an insurance firm, and with an ex long gone and no furry companion to speak of it was more than easy to up and leave. Breathing out a heavy sigh I started the engine again, rolling past the welcome sign back into my idea of hell.

6 years had passed, and everything in the town still looked the damn same. The same shops still littered the town, even the same old drunk who usually sat outside the liquor store with a pipe in hand, though now he had tubes up his nose and an oxygen tank beside him. I rolled my eyes as I drove through towards the hospital. I had not missed this place one bit.

After I had parked, I headed into the hospital and spoke to the woman on the front desk to find out where my mom was being kept. I hadn't spoken to her since the day I left, so she had no idea I was coming. As much as I hated the town and the people in it, or how we left things I was not about to let my mom die without trying to reconcile. I walked briskly through the sterile halls towards the oncology ward, a bubble of nerves settling in my chest. I hadn't spoken to my mom in 6 years, so I had no idea what I would say to her now.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Donna Tanner?" I said to the nurse sat in front of the desk once I got into the ward. She glanced up at me and looked me up and down.

"Are you family?" She asked while tapping away on the computer.

"Yeah, I'm her daughter." She read the room information, so using her instructions I made my way to where her room was supposed to be. I paused outside the door and took steady breaths, trying to calm my nerves. The blinds to her room were drawn, so it's not like I could slowly prepare myself by just looking at her. Gathering myself together, I took one final deep breath before opening the door.

A woman I barely recognised lay in a small hospital bed, connected by tubes from her arms and up her nose. Her slightly tanned skin was now pale and off-coloured, her once rich brunette locks thin and wiry with patches missing. I stared in shock at the woman that I called mother as if she were a complete stranger. The door closed behind me, making me jump and her eyes snap open. They settled on me as a frown creased her forehead.

"I don't know what crazy drugs they've got me on, but you sure as hell ain't my daughter." Her voice was hoarse and quieter than what I was used to, surprising me even more.

"It's me, mom." I somehow managed to stutter out. She scoffed and turned to look away from me.

"Not likely. My Brooke wouldn't come visit me even if I was 6 feet under." She muttered more to herself than me. I sighed and walked over to her, plonking myself down on the chair beside her bed. I reached out and grasped her cold, papery hand and gave her my most honest look.

"It's really me, mom. I'm here. Your doctor called me and told me the news. How could you not tell me you were sick?" I asked, waiting eagerly for a response.

"What can I say, you made it perfectly clear that family meant nothing to you and nothing was gonna bring you back here, so I figured what was the point." Mom shrugged, still avoiding eye contact with me.

"That's a ridiculous excuse and you know it. Despite everything that happened you are still my mom. Of course I'd be here." I sighed, not wanting to get into another fight with her. My mom was strong, but looking at her I thought an argument may just do her in.