The Butler

Chapter 8- Promises

The days were passing by, and they were becoming more grueling. I had to take up more hours at work to earn more money for my mom's surgery. I started losing weight from overworking. I had no time to eat because I used the time for dinner to study and do homework. I would wake up late from fatigue and sleepiness, so I stopped eating breakfast. I basically had one meal per day which was lunch, and the other meals would be replaced with fruits and veggies intended for snacking. It was so tiring, but I knew that I had to endure it.

I wanted to move, so I was looking for places that required no down payment and low rent with a nearby hospital and job that I could walk to, but I couldn't find any place that had those conditions. I just had a week to go I told myself. If I can earn more money, I can try to save enough for a down payment I decided.

With a famished stomach, I entered the hospital room after work, but I plastered on a sweet smile for my mother. The bruises faded, but I still had a bandage wrap on my wrist. I told her I tripped and fell on a table during work for the bruises on my arms and sprained wrist. She had enough on her plate, and I didn't want her to fret over her daughter getting bullied. 

I walked over to her bed and held her hand. She looked like she weighed 80 pounds at 5'6. I promised myself I would stop crying from the bullying situation as I realized crying never solved any problems, but every time I saw my mom getting skinnier each day, my heart broke. She was on chemotherapy and pain medicine. She would have seizures, and her speech was impacted. She would talk with a stutter sometimes making her embarrassed. Her smiles didn't reach her eyes anymore, but I continually tried to make her laugh everyday.

"I remember when we went to Disney World when you were in 5th grade. Y-you got s-spooked by Mickey Mouse and spilled ice cream all over your dress, and the poor worker in Mickey Mouse was doing his best to cheer you up," she spoke with nostalgia.

I giggled. "Do you remember when we went to the beach and you got iced coffee all over you when a seagull landed on your hat? You were so surprised."

"What? That was you," she responded with a blank face.

"No, that was definitely you." I was sure because when we went to the beach, I was 7. I had no reason to drink iced coffee. I, also, wore no hat because my hair was wet from swimming in the sea.

"NO. TH-THAT WAS YOU. W-WHY ARE YOU TALKING BACK? YOU UNGRATEFUL WENCH. GET OUT," my mom screamed at me and chucked the book in her lap at me. The corner of the book hit me on the forehead.

I winced and held the area that was pulsating with pain as I felt warm liquid oozing out. My lips quivered from hurt and fear. I slowly got up from my seat.

"I'll be back, Mom. Sorry about that. I have no idea I was talking about. You're right," I surrendered. I closed the hospital door behind me and saw Dr. Klaine walking towards our door.

"Hey, Stella," he paused. "What happened? You're bleeding a little on the forehead. Let me help you with that."

"Thanks, Dr. Klaine." We walked over to his private office to get my wound dressed. 

"So tell me what happened. This wound looks fresh."

"I just slammed my head into the corner of the table-" I internally cringed at my excuse. The tables were rounded and had no corners.

He looked at me incredulously and raised an eyebrow at me daring me to continue with this story.

"Okay. My mom threw a book at me. It's probably because of the stress or the brain tumor. I think I need to get her the surgery now before it gets worse. She's never blew up like that before, Dr. Klaine. I don't know what I should do. I'm so tired, but I'm working to catch up with the hospital debt. I don't think I'll save enough money for the surgery in time. She had me when she was a teenager and somehow gave me a comfortable life, and I can't even pay her back. I'm a worthless daughter," My hands shook as I admitted my deepest fears. I had a positive outlook to motivate me and keep myself moving every morning, but confessing my doubts out loud made me understand how doomed the situation was. 

"I'm so sorry, Stella." He leaned over and gave me a hug. "No wonder you look like you lost some weight. How about I pay for the surgery?"

I searched for sincerity on his face as he let me go from the hug. There was a five o' clock shadow on his face. He had a hawk nose and thin lips. His slightly downward green eyes made him look gentle. But most importantly, those eyes showed integrity that he was prepared to give money. I couldn't believe that he was willing to provide me with a large sum of money.

"Are you sure, Dr. Klaine? Please tell me you're not," I begged.

"Call me Sam. I am a hundred percent serious. Think of it as a present for your mom's 35th birthday."

"Thank you so much, but I will pay you back some day. Come over if you can to my mom's hospital room on her birthday. I'll bake us a cake and have us a celebration, S-Sam," I hesitatingly mumbled his name.

He smiled. "Deal."

I thanked him again before closing the door to his office and skipped to my mom's room. She was crying uncontrollably when I entered. I smiled sadly and walked over to my mom. She looked at my dressed wound and wailed. She was losing her control of emotions which confirmed the brain tumor was spreading.

"I'm fine, Mom. I love you, and I forgive you. I got some great news! Dr. K- I mean, Sam is paying for your surgery fee," I exclaimed with overflowing excitement.

She froze, but her hiccuping continued. "R-really?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about your outburst. Your stress was a burden, and you didn't have an outlet. I'm fine, Mom," I kept comforting my mom. It was a lie. I was scared that my mom would have another fit, but I couldn't back down now.

"Thank you, Stella. I will t-try my hardest for the rest of my life to repay you."

"It won't leave a scar. It's pretty shallow. But it's a promise. You're going to live 60 more years and use those years to make me the happiest daughter in the world."

She nodded as a promise. 

We spent the rest of the night talking about more hospital gossip to avoid talking about the past. Her memories seemed to be affected by the brain tumor. I needed for her to get the brain surgery soon before it consumed my mom. Really soon.