Chapter 3 — The Price of an Apology

By eight the next morning, I knew exactly how much freedom I could afford.

My savings covered a little under three months of my mother's current arrangement. Longer if we changed the private extras. My salary could sustain the essentials, but the overlap with an international move would be tight.

I wrote down questions for the care coordinator instead of pretending the numbers would improve if I stared at them.

Then I took a cab to my mother's rehabilitation center.

Ruth Bennett had been there for eleven days following a hospital stay. She was due for a review on Monday. I'd promised to bring her the paperback she'd left in my apartment.

I had forgotten it.

In the elevator, I practiced telling her about Preston. I wasn't going to describe every humiliation. I wanted her to hear that I had a job, somewhere to stay, and a plan.

I heard Sienna before I reached the room.

"I'm only asking you to talk some sense into her."

I stopped beside the open door.

My mother sat against two pillows, one hand clenched around the blanket.

Sienna stood near the foot of the bed wearing my ring.

"You come into my room," Mom said, "wearing that, and expect me to help you?"

"It's borrowed. You're making it sound ugly."

"Take it off."

Sienna gave a small sigh.

"This is why Audrey's so difficult. Nobody can say anything without you both taking offense."

I pushed the door wider.

Neither woman noticed immediately.

"You should understand better than anyone," Sienna continued. "Your husband left. You know you can't make a man stay by being angry at another woman."

My mother's mouth opened.

Her hand moved to her chest.

"Mom?"

I reached her as she sagged sideways. Her eyes were open, but she didn't answer me.

I pressed the call button and shouted into the corridor.

A nurse came running. She moved me aside, asked my mother a question, then called for help.

Sienna backed into the wall.

"I didn't—I was just talking."

"Get out of the way," the nurse said.

Two more staff members arrived. One guided me toward the door while another brought equipment to the bedside.

"We'll update you as soon as we can," the first nurse said. "Please let us work."

I stood in the corridor gripping my mother's cardigan. I didn't remember picking it up.

Sienna followed me.

"Audrey, don't look at me like that. I didn't know she'd react that way."

"You talked about my father."

"I was trying to help."

"You know what he did to her."

She glanced toward the nurses' station.

"Keep your voice down."

I stepped away before I did something that would distract everyone from the woman inside that room.

"Leave."

"Preston's coming."

Of course he was.

He arrived carrying two coffees, as though he'd been summoned to an inconvenient meeting.

Sienna crossed the corridor to him.

"She's furious with me. I only came to explain about the ring."

He looked at my face, then at the closed door.

"What's happened?"

"My mother became unwell while Sienna was telling her she should understand another woman taking her husband."

"That isn't what I said."

"I heard you."

Sienna's eyes filled.

"I mentioned her father because I thought Ruth would understand relationships are complicated. I wasn't insulting her."

Preston handed her a coffee.

"She shouldn't have brought that up," he said to me. "But you need to calm down."

"The nurses are with my mother. I am standing outside waiting. What exactly would you like me to do differently?"

"Stop attacking Sienna."

He glanced down the corridor as someone passed.

I had seen that look before. He disliked scenes, especially when somebody might recognize him. The scene itself never bothered him as much as the witnesses.

"She needs to leave," I said.

"She came out of concern."

"Then she can be concerned somewhere else."

Sienna began crying quietly.

He set his untouched coffee on a windowsill.

"Apologize, Audrey."

I looked at him, waiting for him to hear himself.

He didn't.

"No."

"I'm paying for this place. The extra nursing visits, the private room, all of it. I've never thrown that in your face."

"You just did."

His jaw tightened.

"I'm not going to keep funding everything while you treat people this way."

I looked through the narrow window in the door. A nurse was bending over my mother. Another was writing something on a chart.

Preston couldn't order them to stop treating her. But he could make the coming weeks much harder, and he knew I hadn't yet had time to replace the arrangements he'd made.

He'd offered them when I'd fallen asleep at my desk after a weekend shift. Back then, he'd called it something partners did for each other.

Now he stood between me and my mother's room, waiting to collect.

"I'm sorry," I said.

The words came out flat.

Sienna sniffed.

"I just want us all to get along."

Preston picked up his coffee.

"Good. Now let's stop this. We've got a flight tonight."

"Tonight?"

"We'll go to Iceland early. Give everybody a chance to cool off. You can come Thursday as planned."

As planned.

My plan had never involved Iceland.

He touched my elbow. I moved it away.

"We'll see you at the wedding," he said.

I watched them walk toward the elevators. Sienna slipped her hand into his. The diamond caught the ceiling light.

Then I went to the nurses' station.

"I need to speak to whoever manages my mother's care plan and billing."

The woman at the desk asked me to sit while she called someone.

I wrote down the time Sienna had arrived, what I'd heard, and when my mother had become unwell. I asked that my mother's visitor preferences be reviewed when she was ready to discuss them.

When the care coordinator came, I told her the person paying the supplementary costs would no longer be part of our family arrangements.

"Please don't send him medical updates on my behalf," I said. "And I'd like an itemized estimate of what Mom actually needs next."

She pulled up the file.

"Your mother directs who receives her information. We can review that with her. For the expenses, let's separate care from optional services first."

For the first time that morning, I could do something useful.

We went through the figures. I took notes. Some expenses could change. Others couldn't. The coordinator offered to arrange a meeting after Monday's review so we could plan the next stage properly.

I gave her my own contact details and asked for the documents directly.

By early afternoon, a nurse told me my mother was stable and wanted to see me.

I sat beside her bed.

"I forgot your book," I said.

"I won't report you."

Her voice was tired, but it was hers.

I pressed my lips together. She reached for my hand, turning it until she could see the pale mark where my ring had been.

"How long?"

"Long enough."

Her eyes closed briefly.

"Did you leave?"

"Last night. I've accepted the Dublin job, too. I'm going to work out your care before I go. Nothing is being decided without you."

"Good."

"I thought you'd be upset about the wedding."

She looked at me for a long moment.

"I liked hearing you talk about it. You sounded happy. That's what I wanted."

My throat hurt.

"He said you'd be disappointed."

"Audrey, look at me."

I did.

"I wanted to watch you marry someone who was good to you. I never asked you to endure someone who wasn't."

I bent my head over our joined hands.

For the first time since Sienna's phone call, I let myself cry.