Alpha Billionaire Series
Loving the One I Should Hate Chapter 25

MANDY

The house was quiet and dark when I got home. I figured mom was napping again, so I decided to cha afternoon, she was tired. If she wasn't napping, she was usually curled up on the couch watching TV o My new normal was to come home, change into comfortable clothes, I seemed to be expanding like a looking hugely pregnant overnight, and I was expanding daily.

I changed. Soon I would only be in these overly stretchy yoga pants and flowing tunics all the time. I c Mom had planned for them.

I wanted to make something nice. I had good news at work, and I wanted to celebrate, even if just a lit knew things would get better. I would feel better, less burdened.

I looked up a recipe for one of Dad's favorite chicken cacciatore. I started by pouring a bit of red wine vegetables for what felt like forever.

As I seared the chicken in butter and garlic Mom tumbled, not quite awake into the kitchen. "That smells good," she said.

"Garlic in butter always smells good. How was your nap?" I didn't look up as I flipped the chicken thig specifically iron. I didn't know how true that was. What I did know was that I liked the richer flavor of "I feel even more tired after my nap."

I looked up when I heard her stumble with one of the chairs. She didn't look good, something was off. "Mom?" I was by her side and helped her into the chair.

"Stop fussing Mandy, I'm just not awake yet, that's all. Get me a glass of water."

I grabbed a clean glass and filled it from the water filter on the fridge.

Her hands shook as she took it from me with both hands.

I turned away for only a second. That's all it took. I heard the glass shatter. She didn't make any sound.

When I spun around, she was limp and sliding out of the chair.

d get dinner started without bothering her. That seemed to be our new normal. Mom had energy and got a few errands done in the mornings, and by the late ng a book.

n, growing daily. If my clothes were comfortable in the morning, by the time I came home they felt miles too small. I went from not showing for months to

o longer tie the apron strings around me, so I let it hang. It wasn't fashionable, but it kept my clothes cleaner. I pulled out chicken thighs and wondered what

ad all of the funds to pay off Grant. I was too tired to cheer; I still felt the oppressive weight of our situation on my shoulders. Once the loan was paid off, I saucepan with some crushed tomatoes. I wanted to get that simmering with the basil since the rest of the prep was going to take some time. I chopped

had switched from buying breasts and their promise of low fat to thighs since the darker meat was supposed to hold more vitamins and minerals, added to dishes.

"Mom!" I screamed. I struggled to keep her from falling out of the chair and on top of the broken glass on the floor.

"Mom?"

Her lips weren't blue, not like Dad's. She was breathing. I got her propped, so she wouldn't fall from the chair. I ran to the phone and called for an ambulance. I checked to make sure she was still breathing. In the eternity it took for them to arrive at the house, I managed to remember to turn the oven and stove off, I cleaned most of the broken glass and water up, and I got my purse and jacket ready. Between each little task, I returned to Mom's side and held her hand, and talked to her.

She was able to tighten her grip, nothing forceful but enough to know it wasn't a reflex when I held her hand. I was in get-it-done mode. I didn't think about what was happening, I just knew I was going to need my phone and its charger, I'd want a comfortable sweater for the hospital. I didn't want the EMTS tracking broken glass through the little house. I opened the door for them before they arrived.

I kept remembering everything I should have done when the EMTs had arrived for Dad. I was ready to go before they were, I had even managed to put the uncooked food into the refrigerator. I don't know where the wherewithal to be efficient at that time came from, inside I was a sobbing mess. I had felt so helpless when it had been Dad. Now I refused to be helpless, even if I really was.

They got mom on their gurney and an oxygen mask on her face. I followed them out the front door and waited as they rolled Mom into the back of the ambulance. One of the EMTs took one look at me and told me to get in.

"You're in no shape to drive on your own," he said.

"I'm not that pregnant," I replied.

"Maybe not, but you are clearly shaken, and you will both do better if you're in there with her."

He helped me up the big step into the back.

"I'm here Mom." I could reach out and touch her feet from the jump seat I sat on in the corner.

The doors shut behind us and we were moving. Everything from that point seemed to blur together. Once we were in the emergency room, there were bouts of frenzied activity between long stretches of waiting. I sat in the corner as nurses and doctors plugged Mom into machines, took vial after vial of blood.

"This will keep her comfortable," one nurse said as she injected something into the IV drip.

She left and returned moments later with a pillow and blanket for me. "Here, this will help you get more comfortable. Do you need anything?"

I looked over at Mom. I needed her to be okay. "How long before we know what's wrong?"

The nurse shook her head. She didn't know. I kept telling myself it wasn't as bad as when Dad died because I was allowed to be by her side.

After hours of waiting, one of the doctors, I recognized from Mom's time in the hospital from the previous spring, came in. I shook his hand and tried to focus on his words.

"We really won't know until we can get some tests run," he said.

"I thought she was doing better," I whined. I looked over at her, she looked even frailer than I had realized, or maybe it was being in the hospital with IV drips and an oxygen mask that made her look that way.

"We'll get you moved up into a room as soon as we can get confirmation one is available. She's resting and comfortable. You'll be more comfortable once she's in a room. I understand she came in around dinner. Have you eaten? You need to keep your strength up. Why don't you visit the cafeteria? I doubt they'll get her into a room before you get back."

He patted me on the shoulder and left. He wanted me to leave and get food? Didn't he understand I had to be right here, just in case?

"Doctor said your mother will be moving into a room soon. He also told me to make sure you got some food," a nurse said as she stepped into the small room.

"I can't." I shook my head.

"Vending machines are right around the corner," she said with a tilt of her head. She understood.

"Thank you."

The doctor lied; I wasn't more comfortable once Mom was in a room. The fold-out chair was a bad farse of a comfortable surface. Besides, how could I sleep not knowing what was happening?

In the morning an orderly delivered breakfast. I said thank you but inwardly scoffed. My mother was unconscious, this was going to go to waste.

"Oh good, they delivered breakfast," the floor nurse said the next time she swept in to check Mom's vitals. "I put that order in for you. They told me to make sure the pregnant daughter ate. No one thinks you had any dinner, and you clearly aren't leaving her side, are you?"

"You ordered breakfast for me?

"I don't need any fainting pregnant woman on my floor." She gave me a conspiratorial wink. "Doctor is making his rounds; he'll be in soon."

I didn't have to wait long before the doctor from the night before was checking on Mom.

"I went through her records last night, and it seems that she never finished the treatment she started back in April."

"What do you mean? Why didn't you do the full treatment? She was better." I was probably yelling, but I didn't care. It didn't make any sense why they had stopped a course of treatment before completing it. Doctors are always saying finish the medicine even if you feel better. Why didn't Mom do that?

"The treatments are very expensive."

"I don't care, we'll replace a way to pay for it."

I slipped my hand into my mother's. I would do whatever it took. She held on. She was too weak to speak but she held my hand.

"Insurance doesn't cover the necessary medicines. It is one hundred percent out of pocket, and expensive."

"Mandy," Mom's voice was dry and raspy. She let go of my hand and pulled the mask from her face. "It's too expensive. Your father..." "Mom, it's okay, rest."

"He took that loan to pay for the medicine, but it wasn't enough. We ran out of money. I just wanted to go to the lake and die. You've worked so hard to save the company, don't waste your money on me." "Mom, no!"

She was unconscious again.

"I've got the money," I told the doctor. "Please, I can't lose her too. She has to see the baby."

The doctor placed his hand on my arm as I sniffed.

It took me a moment to sniffle and compose myself. "Order the tests. I have a cash reserve I can use."

"Okay, I'll get those tests ordered, and then we know where we need to start. Hopefully, she hasn't backslidden too much."

I had a big pile of cash just waiting for me to drop in Grant's lap. But he wasn't going to get it now. I guess he won. I didn't care anymore, keeping MiMa Play would never make up for losing my mother. It killed my father, it wasn't worth saving, especially if Mom could be cured.