I sat up straight and set aside my popcorn bowl. “Mrs. Torres? Is that you?” She was the widow who lived next door to my mother.

  “Yes, dear, it’s me.”

  Mrs. Torres was a good friend to my mother, especially since my father had passed. He’d been gone over two years now, and the two widows looked after each other. Knowing that Mrs. Torres kept an eye on Mom reassured me, and I know Mrs. Torres’s children were grateful to have Mom do the same for her next-door neighbor and friend.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked.

  “Jenna, your mother has taken a bad spill. I’m afraid she’s hurt herself.”

  I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding so loudly it echoed in my ears. “How badly is she hurt? Is anything broken?”

  “I…I don’t know. I think it might be her hip. I hope I did the right thing by calling 911. The paramedics are already here. You mother didn’t want them to take her to the hospital until I contacted you.”

  “What?” I asked in disbelief. My mother was waiting for my approval before she sought medical attention?

  “The paramedics are talking to her now,” Mrs. Torres continued. “They’re checking her vital signs and suggested I step back. Carol wants to talk to you, but they need a few minutes with her first.”

  “Of course.” I couldn’t believe this was happening. My poor mother. She’d already been through so much with the loss of my father. I hated the thought of her being hurt and in pain.

  Seeing the concern on my face, and the fact I was on my feet, Maureen was looking at me with alarm. Being a nurse, I immediately went into crisis mode. “Where did she fall?” I asked, wanting as many details as Mrs. Torres could give me.

  “Outside, off the back steps. She was working in her garden and started into the house. She must have stumbled.” Mrs. Torres lowered her voice, not wanting Mom to hear. “She landed hard on the sidewalk.”

  I gasped when I heard she’d landed on cement.

  “We’d been chatting just a few minutes earlier,” the widow explained. “I was picking a bouquet of dahlias when it happened.”

  “Thank God you were there.”

  “I went over to her right away and told her not to move. Carol didn’t think she was hurt at first. Although she was in a lot of pain, she insisted she was fine.”

  That was just like my mother. She wouldn’t want anyone to make a fuss.

  “After a few minutes, she wanted me to help her stand. But I could see she’d hurt herself, and that this wasn’t a simple fall.”

  I closed my eyes with worry. “Please tell me you didn’t move her!”

  “No…oh, no. I insisted she stay still until I got help. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have had the strength to get her upright.”

  I heard my mother’s voice in the background.

  “Let me talk to Jenna?”

  “While I talk to her,” I said to Mrs. Torres, “please ask the paramedics to take her to Seattle Central Hospital.”

  “I’ll do that, dear. Now don’t you worry. Here’s your mother.”

  “Mom?”

  “I’m so sorry, Jenna.”

  “Don’t apologize, Mom. It was an accident. Mrs. Torres did the right thing to call for help. Let the aid car take you to the hospital. I’m leaving now and will meet you there.”

  “Okay.” Mom gasped for breath as if she was in terrible pain, her voice a mere whisper. My heart clenched.

  My mother was a salt-of-the-earth kind of woman. I’d been blessed with wonderful parents who had loved and supported me throughout my entire life. After Kyle and I divorced, I would never have managed on my own without their love and backing. Losing Dad to a heart attack was a blow that had left our family reeling. Two years had gone by, yet Mom wasn’t past the fact that she was now a widow. Grief had aged her. She was in her mid-seventies and in overall good health, but she missed my father something terrible and had given up many of the very things they had once enjoyed together.

  This past year Mom had stayed home far more than she ventured out, tending her garden and working jigsaw puzzles. Maureen had tried to get Mom to join a reading group at the library, but she wasn’t interested. I was grateful that she continued playing bridge with a group of ladies from the church.

  Mrs. Torres came back on the line. “They’re loading Carol into the aid car now.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Torres.”

  “I wish I could have done more, Jenna. I feel a bit shaken myself. Falling is one of my biggest fears. Please let me know if there’s anything more I can do.”

  “I will, and thank you again, Mrs. Torres.” Poor woman. Seeing this happen to my mother must have been an ordeal for her. I would be forever grateful that she’d been outside at the time of Mom’s fall. I hated to think of how long my mother might have lain on the sidewalk before anyone found her, if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Torres.

  As soon as I disconnected the call, Maureen was full of questions. “What happened?”

  I tossed my phone and my charging cord into my purse as I explained.

  “I’m coming with you,” Maureen insisted.

  “Then follow me in your car.” I didn’t want Maureen trapped at the hospital because we’d come in one car. Depending on Mom’s prognosis, I knew I could potentially be at the hospital for several hours.

  On the drive over, my mind was working at warp speed, assessing what little I could from the information given me. Mom had fallen, but from what Mrs. Torres told me, she hadn’t hit her head, which was a blessing in and of itself. Nor did I know how far she’d fallen. Had she been up one step or two when she’d taken the tumble?

  I rushed toward the hospital, then parked with relative ease thanks to my employee parking pass, although it was at the farthest spot in the parking lot. I trusted that Maureen would find parking in the garage or on the street.

  After twenty years working in the intensive care unit at Seattle Central, I’d become acquainted with many of the medical professionals there, but I wasn’t as familiar with the emergency room staff, though I did recognize the names of several physicians and nurses as I passed through.

  I was directed into the cubicle where Mom had been taken. Relief showed in her face as soon as she saw me. Stretching out her arm, she grabbed hold of my hand as I stepped to the side of the gurney.

  “Everything is going to be okay, Mom,” I told her, bending over to give her a gentle hug.

  Closing her eyes, Mom held on to me as though she never intended to let me go.

  We didn’t need to wait long for the examining physician to arrive. I wasn’t familiar with Dr. Spencer, though I’d heard his name mentioned before and always in a good way. We spoke briefly, and he put in an order for X-rays.

  Patient transport quickly arrived, and my instinct was to accompany her because I knew it would comfort her to have me at her side. However, the woman at the check-in desk came by, asking me to fill out several pages of paperwork. Mom’s worried eyes sought me out.

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” I promised, walking down the hallway with her before she was rolled into the elevator.

  With a heavy heart, I took the clipboard into the waiting room and called my brother, Tom, to let him know what had happened. Tom and his wife, Louanne, lived three hours away in Oregon. Both of his kids were out on their own now. I told him to stay put until I had more information. I found Maureen pacing in front of the emergency department check-in station.

  “How is she?”

  “Pale, and clearly in a lot of pain. Her blood pressure’s elevated because of that, and her heart rate is fast but steady.” I had sneaked a peek at the chart clipped at the base of the bed and scanned the notes left by the paramedics.

  Maureen came into the cubicle to wait with me. Mom returned in a relatively short amount of time and ten minutes later, Dr. Spencer reentered the room with the results. Without a word, he brought up the X-ray on the computer screen for us and pointed out what was quite noticeable, and what I had suspected had happened: Mom had indeed broken her hip. The break was bad, and I knew it would require immediate surgery.

  “I’ve put a call into Dr. Lancaster,” Dr. Spencer said. “He’s the best orthopedic surgeon in the state.”

  I was familiar with Dr. Lancaster’s superior reputation as a surgeon. We’d never worked together, so I was uncertain of his bedside manner. All I could do was hope that he would be patient and tender with Mom. For the most part, the surgeons I’d met and worked with had minimal people skills. They were often brilliant yet found it hard to relate to patients. Because of this, many chose this field of medicine as it had the least amount of one-on-one patient contact. They’d perform the surgery, and the patient would never see them again. In, done, and gone. Yet I knew Dr. Lancaster to be the best orthopedic surgeon in the area, and I was thankful that Mom would be in good hands during surgery, no matter what his people skills were.

  Mom’s hand tightened around my own. “Everything will be fine, Jenna. Don’t you worry.”

  How like my mother to be reassuring me.

  “Yes, it will,” I said, although tears had gathered in my eyes. Mom and I were close, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, especially so soon after losing my father.

 

 

  Debbie Macomber, Let It Snow

 

 

  Thank you for reading books on GrayCity.Net
Share this book with friends