“So am I.”
That was the first time she admitted it.
Not I’m fine.
Not the doctors are hopeful.
Not we’ll see.
I’m scared too.
I reached for her hand.
She held mine.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Mom frowned.
I answered for her.
“Hello?”
A woman spoke.
“Is this Margaret Ellis?”
“She’s here. Who is this?”
A pause.
Then:
“Elena Mercer.”
I looked at Mom.
She saw my face.
“Put her on speaker.”
I did.
“Elena?”
There was a laugh on the other end.
Older than David’s memory.
Warm.
“Oh, Margaret.”
Mom smiled.
“You became an oncologist.”
“And you’re still bossy.”
“You nearly killed your husband.”
“I was twenty-six.”
“You were wrong.”
“I know.”
Mom laughed.
Then Elena’s voice softened.
“I saw your name in the travel clearance system.”
“I heard.”
“I hope you’re not angry.”
“I’ll decide later.”
“Fair.”
There was a pause.
“Margaret, I want you to know something.”
Mom listened.
“I’ve told hundreds of young doctors about you.”
My mother’s eyes dropped.
“You shouldn’t.”
“I absolutely should.”
“It was one shift.”
“For you.”
Elena continued.
“You changed the way I practiced medicine.”
Mom’s mouth tightened.
“You would have learned anyway.”
“Maybe.”
“But I learned that night.”
Mom stared toward the hospital window.
Elena said, “David came home from that accident because you refused to let a room full of people dismiss what you were seeing.”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“And years later, when I almost missed something in another patient, I heard your voice in my head.”
“What patient?”
“A woman with leukemia.”
Elena paused.
“I ordered one more test.”
Mom said nothing.
“It saved her.”
I watched my mother’s face change.
Not pride exactly.
Something deeper.
Meaning.
Elena continued.
“That woman later became a teacher.”
Mom covered her mouth.
“She had three children.”
I felt tears sting my eyes.
Elena said, “You never know how far one good decision travels.”
Mom started crying.
Quietly.
I had watched her receive chemotherapy without crying.
Lose her hair without crying.
Sign advance directives without crying.
But that broke her.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered.
“I know.”
The call lasted twenty minutes.
At the end, Elena said, “When you’re stronger, David and I are taking you to dinner.”
Mom smiled.
“As long as he doesn’t make me fly.”
“He’s going to insist.”
