Chapter Thirty
We take off the mask and swab Mom’s mouth with ice water, not Mountain Dew, which earns us a fuss from her.
She’s tired but lucid, and we talk. Alone as a family, and then again with the doctors at her bedside.
The DNI stays.
She wants to take the mask off for good in the morning.
I make the phone calls I have to make, and then I stare at my phone for a long time before letting out a mumbled f**k it and sending a text to a number I have memorized by heart after only a month.
hey. it’s sean. i know things ended badly between us, and i know you probably have real reasons for staying away. that’s my fault, and i don’t deserve anything from you right now, but mom is coming off her ventilator tomorrow morning and i just miss you so f*****g much. i keep trying to pray—f
