The hospital was still buzzing with activity. People rushing down the halls. Patients being wheeled around in their beds. Nurses hurrying to tend to those that needed them. I could hear a woman crying, her sobs muffled by the walls.
A nurse stopped me as I made my way to my mother’s room. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see my mother. She’s in room 312.”
The nurse frowned, her face severe. “Visiting hours ended at seven.”
“I know, but I’m hoping you’ll make an exception. I’m Ms. Carter’s daughter. I just flew in from England. I came straight from the airport. Can I please see her?” I would beg if I had to.
The nurse must have seen the tired desperation in my eyes because she waved me on without putting up much of a fight.
I found my mother’s room and hesitated before going in.
I didn’t want to see what waited for me.
But I had to. She needed me.
Mom was fast asleep. She was connected to a dozen monitors that beeped steadily. She looked so small. Her face ashen; her arm was black and blue from where they had tried to insert an IV multiple times.
And she was alone.
No one sat by her bed.
She had been all by herself.
I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle a sob.
I sank down in the chair beside her and picked up her cold, limp hand. I recoiled at the feel of her skin. Then I berated myself.
She’s my mother. Stop being such a coward.
Griping her hand tightly, my eyes started to droop and the next thing I knew I was asleep.
“MORGAN?”
My mother’s raspy voice woke me up out of a deep sleep.
I sat up and wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth. “You’re awake!” I exclaimed. My tiredness was gone in an instant at the sight of her lucidness.
“What are you doing here?” my mother asked, seeming confused.
“Lisa called me,” I told her.
“Why would Lisa call you?” My mother didn’t seem to know what was going on. Her eyes flitted around the room, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
“Do you know where you are, Mom?” I asked with growing concern.
Mom looked around, seeming distressed. “I’m in the hospital. Why am in the hospital?”
“You had a heart attack, Mom,” I said gently, taking her hand again.
“A heart attack,” she repeated.
I nodded. “I flew out as soon as I heard.”
“You flew out from where?” she asked, trying to sit up.
“Don’t. You need to stay still,” I instructed.
“What’s going on? I want to go home, Morgan.” My mother was getting worked up.
“Mom, lie back down. You can’t go home. You just had a heart attack.”
She tried to pull at the wires she was hooked up to. She yanked at the IV, almost pulling it out of her arm.
“Stop it. Leave that alone. You’ll hurt yourself.” I tried to settle her down but she wasn’t having it. Finally, I pushed the button on the side of her bed calling a nurse.
A woman came in immediately.
“My mother’s upset. She’s trying to take out her IV. She says she wants to go home. Is there something you can give her to help her calm down?”
“Ms. Carter, I need you to lie back down. You’ll only hurt yourself,” the nurse said calmly.
“Why am I here?” my mother asked, even though I had told her already. She had tears in her eyes.
“You’ve had a heart attack, Ms. Carter. Remember? You’re recovering from bypass surgery. You have to take it easy. Now I’m going to give you something to help you sleep, all right?” She injected something into her IV. We waited a few minutes, talking soothingly, trying to keep her calm until the medicine kicked in. I watched as Mom’s eyelids started to droop.
“I want to go home,” she said again right before she fell asleep.
I let out a breath as she started snoring softly.
The nurse turned to me. “I’m Elaine, the head nurse on duty. You know that visiting hours are over, right?”
I nodded. “I know. I’m Morgan, Ms. Carter’s daughter. I came straight here from the airport.” I was annoyed I had to repeat my story.
Elaine pursed her lips. Clearly she wasn’t going to be the pushover the other nurse was. “Your mother needs her rest. Why don’t you come back during regular visiting hours. They start at nine.”
“Fine, I’ll go but first can you tell me what her prognosis is? How long will she be in the hospital?”
“You should speak to her physician—”
“I’m not trying to be rude, but I just got off an eight hour flight. I haven’t slept. I drove over an hour to get here. I only want to know how my mother is doing.” I was close to hysterics. Elaine must have seen that because her hard expression softened.
“Your mother had a massive heart attack brought on by a blockage in her coronary artery.”
“She had all sorts of tests not long ago and they didn’t find anything. How could that be?” I asked, getting angry. What the hell was wrong with her doctor that this went unnoticed?
“I can’t speak for any of that. All I can say is that she was brought in and had bypass surgery to increase blood flow to the heart.”
“And the confusion. Is that normal?” I asked her.
“Very. Many heart attack patients have memory loss afterwards.”
“And how long will she be in the hospital?”
“She will be here at least another week. After that she will need to recover at home and that can be up to six weeks, depending on how she does. Is there someone at home that can stay with her? She won’t be able to care for herself for quite a while.”
“No, there’s no one. I live in England at the moment.” The familiar guilt took up residence in my gut. I had left my mother alone. What kind of daughter was I?
“Then you will need to look into hiring someone for the interim. It’s very important she have someone around.”
“And how much would that cost? Is it covered by insurance?”
“I’m not sure about all that. You’d have to contact her insurance company. But I can tell you that the cost for in-home care varies. But it’s not cheap.”
I looked back at my mother sleeping relatively peacefully. A lump formed in my chest. I couldn’t leave her. That was obvious.
But that would mean I’d have to stay in Virginia. I couldn’t go back to England.
“Okay, thank you,” I said to Elaine.
I kissed my mother’s forehead before gathering my things and leaving her room.
I couldn’t go back to the UK. Not yet.
I had to stay here. I had to take care of my mother.
As I left, my heart began to break for too many reasons.
I WENT BACK to my mother’s house to get some sleep. Nothing had changed. Not a cushion. Not a picture.
My room was just as I had left it.
There was something equally sad and comforting about that.
I needed to call Lucas and let him know I had made it. I dialed his number and listened to it ring. It went to voicemail. I looked at the time. It was nine in the morning in England.
“Hey. I’m at my mother’s. I’ve already been to see her. She’s not doing well at all. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I…” I paused, trying to get my raging emotions under control. “Thank you for everything you did to get me here. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. I love you, Lucas. I really do. I hope your game went well yesterday. I hate that I missed it. And I hate that I missed meeting your mom. And I guess I just want to hear your voice.” I gripped the phone, trying not to cry. “Call me back.”
I hung up and set an alarm on my phone to wake me up in a few hours so I could call Mr. Richardson. Then I climbed into my old bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The alarm on my phone roused me what felt like only a few minutes later. I ch
ecked the time and saw that it was after one in the afternoon UK time. I also saw that Lucas had texted me.
Call me when you can. I’m glad you got there safely. Xx
My heart lifted slightly to see his message. Then it crashed back down to the ground at the thought of not seeing him for a while.
First things first though, I had to call work.
“Mr. Richardson, hello. I presume you got my message?” I said after my boss answered the phone.
“Yes. I hope everything is all right.” Mr. Richardson sounded bored. That annoyed me. He could at least pretend to be concerned about his employee. We had never meshed. I didn’t think we ever would.
“That’s actually why I called. I took a late flight to America last night. My mother had a massive heart attack and is in the hospital for the next week. I have to figure out her care for after her release.” I was talking quickly, so I tried to calm down.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Morgan.” I could hear him typing in the background. Bastard wasn’t even giving me his full attention.
“I was wondering how much time I could take off. I’m not sure about policy when it comes to sick family members. My mother will be in the hospital another week then will be recovering at home for up to eight weeks. I’m not sure about home care at the moment. I was hoping I could stay here for a time and look after her, but I’m not sure that will be possible.” I was rambling. I couldn’t stop. Was he even listening to me?
“Well Morgan, you get two weeks of paid time off. But I think we should talk about a few things first. I know you need to focus on your mother. Family always comes first. But a problem has arisen. I had planned to speak to you in the office but I think it’s best we address the issue now.”
“Issue? I don’t think I understand.”
“I’ve been going over the budget numbers you handed in for your project. With the upcoming acquisition we’re being told to cut costs. This project is no longer viable.”
Wait a minute? Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“Are you firing me?” I asked, choking on the words.
“No. I’m not firing you. That’s not how this works. Normally we’d see about restructuring the program. See if it fits into another area. I’d look into moving you into another part of the organization. But it sounds like perhaps the best course of action for you would be to stay put. Look for something on that side of the pond.”
“So, what you’re saying is you’re encouraging me to look elsewhere?” I asked. I couldn’t deal with this. Not now.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied shortly.
I felt my temper start to rise. Did this man have no heart? No sensitivity? I just told him my mother had a heart attack and he has basically told me that I have no job. What sort of person does that?
“Thank you, Mr. Richardson. I appreciate your consideration.” Sarcasm dripped from my mouth. I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. But murder wasn’t a pretty look for me.
“I do hope your mother is all right,” Mr. Richardson said. Lying, disingenuous fuckwad.
“Me too. I suppose we can consider this my notice.” And then I hung up.
Seriously fuck him.
Shit.
I had just quit my job.
Shit.
My phone dinged in my hand. I opened the text and was relieved to see it was from Lucas.
Are you awake yet? I’d love to talk to you. xx
Suddenly there were too many plates in the air. My mother’s condition. My job. Lucas.
I didn’t know what I was going to do.
I’ll call in a bit. I texted back.
Then I got a shower and changed before heading back to the hospital.
“THIRTY FIVE HUNDRED dollars a month?” I gasped.
“That is the going rate for in-home care givers, Miss Carter,” the droll man said on the other end of the phone.
I had spent the morning at the hospital with Mom. She was a bit more aware but still confused.
“You didn’t have to fly all the way back here for me. I’m fine,” Mom had scolded when I arrived at the hospital.
“Mom, you had a massive heart attack. I hardly think that means you’re fine,” I replied.
“A heart attack? I guess that explains all these.” She lifted the wires.
I spoke with her doctor and he had major concerns about another heart attack. “Your mother’s health is worrying. It will require a complete lifestyle change on her part. And her recovery will be slow.”
Slow. Lifestyle change. Concern.
One thing was for sure; I couldn’t leave my mother alone again. And it was quickly becoming obvious that hiring someone to care for her wasn’t an option. I couldn’t afford it now that I had quit my job.
I had quit my job.
That meant my Visa was null and void.
That meant I couldn’t live in the UK.
There was only one thing to do.
Only one decision to make.
And it broke my heart.
Shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
I only hoped Lucas would understand.
“HIYA, LOVE,” LUCAS said when he answered the phone.
I was back at home after going to the grocery store to pick up a few things. I knew I needed to call Lucas and tell him about my decision.
I was dreading it.
I didn’t know what he’d say.
I loved him. He loved me.
But was it enough to survive living an ocean apart?
Loving a famous soccer player was hard enough. Doing it long distance seemed downright impossible.
“What’s with all the noise?” I asked. I could hear people talking in the background.
“I just finished morning training. I’m in the dressing room. Give me a second, I’ll go outside.”
I heard muffled voices and after a few seconds Lucas was back. “Okay, now that I have some privacy, how’s your mum?”
“Not so good actually. That’s actually why I was calling.”
“What’s going on, Morgan?”
“She had a massive heart attack and then bypass surgery. It’s going to be a slow recovery. She’s in the hospital another week and then she’ll need someone with her round the clock for another eight weeks. I called my job to see about time off and my boss told me that they cut my program. So I quit my job.” I laughed a little maniacally. “I quit my job today and now I have no money. And in home care costs more than I can afford with my meager savings.”
“Slow down, Morgan. You’re giving me whiplash. First thing, you quit your job?”
“Mr. Richardson told me he would encourage me finding employment on this side of the pond. Can you believe that?”
“What a prat. I’m sorry, love.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter, I can’t leave Mom in the state she’s in.”
There was a deafening silence. I could still hear voices on the other end but Lucas wasn’t saying anything.
“Lucas? You still there?”
“I’m here. So what you’re saying is that you’re staying there. With your mum.” His voice had gone strange. Almost hard.
“I guess that is what I’m saying,” I said softly. “I can’t leave her. Not now.”
“Can’t you hire an in-home care giver?” Lucas asked.
“I told you, they’re expensive. I can’t afford it.” I was starting to get pissed off. Was he not listening to me? Where was his understanding? His sensitivity? I called him needing his support.
“Then let me pay for it. Money doesn’t matter. I’ve got enough of it,” he offered almost offhandedly.
“I won’t let you pay for it, Lucas,” I argued.
“God damn it, Morgan, stop with the pride bullshit. Let me pay for it. If it means it gets you back here quicker.”
“Lucas—”
“Stay until you get her settled. I’ll have Mo make some calls. He’ll sort out something in no time.”
“It’s not just about the money. I don’t want to leave her with a stranger. I should be the one taking care of her. You would do it for your mother, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, that’s something else entirely, isn’t it?” he asked shortly. What the hell was his problem?
“You don’t have to be such a jerk about it,” I all but shouted in the phone.
“So you’re not coming back,” he said quietly. The weight of my decision hit me like an atomic bomb.
It blew us both apart.
Silence.
That was all I heard.
Heavy, tense silence.
“She’s all alone here. We don’t have a lot of family and none that live nearby. She’s all I have, please understand,” I pleaded, tears dripping down my face.
“You have me, Morgan. Doesn’t that count for anything?” his voice broke.
“How can you make me choose between you and my mother? That’s not fair. I honestly can’t believe you’re doing this right now. With everything I have going on.”
“I’m not trying to make you choose, Morgan, but I thought what we have is important too.”
“It is important, but I’m not leaving my mom. I hope you can respect my decision.”
“I need you too, Morgan.” He sounded as if he could barely breathe.
That made two of us.
“You have your mother. Your sister. Your teammates. All my mother has is me. I want to be with you. I really do. But I can’t leave my mom. The decision has been made, Lucas.”
“You’re leaving me.”
“I’m not leaving you, Lucas. But I won’t be coming back to England to live. I can’t.”
“You’re leaving me. That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
More silence.
Thick and angry.
“If that’s what you think, then you’re not the man I thought you were,” I whispered, hurting. Devastated.
“I should have known this is how things would go. I knew better than to trust you.” Was he being serious?
“And I should have known better than to fall in love with a selfish celebrity who is all too used to getting everything he wants. Life doesn’t work that way, Lucas. Sometimes people have other obligations. It’s not all about you.”
He was acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum. I couldn’t believe it. Not after how thoughtful he had been in getting me to my mother. Where was that man when I needed him?
The Beautiful Game (Man of the Match Book 1) Page 30
