Welcome to Hell: Rediscovering First Love

Yancy’s voice filled the monitor in a mournful wail that brought the three of us to our feet. Lumbering into the house because of my size I moved up the stairs as quickly as I could. When I opened her door she was trying to sit up.

“What took you so long?” She screamed at me. “Look at the mess I’ve made of myself.”

She had nee

ded to use the restroom and was too weak to make it by herself. I told the girls to leave and make themselves a snack after changing out of their swimsuits. Then helping Yancy to the bathroom I cleaned her up and gave her a fresh nightgown to put on. Trying to avoid looking at her I didn’t want to see the bones protruding through her thinned, nearly translucent skin. When she was dressed I helped her to the overstuffed chair in her room. I propped her feet on the ottoman and covered her with a chenille throw while I changed the sheets on her bed. When I had completed that task my lower back ached.

“The girls should have helped you remake the bed.”

Thump. Thump. The baby agreed.

Glancing sharply at her I was surprised at how lucid she was for the moment. “I can do it.”

“It makes your back hurt.”

“I’m okay Yancy.”

She started to cry. The sound that came from her was sorrowful. I crossed the room and kneeled by the chair where I took her hand in mine.

“What?” I asked.

“Sometimes…sometimes I can’t seem to stop the words that come from my mouth. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

I caressed her hand and with my free hand I reached up and touched her face. Her hair had begun to grow back, in a baby soft peach fuzz of bright red.

“Yancy, I understand. Don’t cry,” I comforted her.

“Help me back to bed,” she said trying to rise from the chair before I could get to my feet. “Damn.” The frustration that filled her at not being able to stand on her own made her cry that much harder.

After a struggle, I was on my feet. I helped her to stand and guided her to her bed. “Come on Yancy stop crying.” I tried to sound compassionate but I just sounded desperately sad.

Thump. Thump. Thump. I know baby. Mommy is sad. Nana is not doing well.

#

Doctor Winkle came by after dinner to see Yancy. The girls and I were cleaning the kitchen when Wynne answered the door. He came to the kitchen to see me first. When he entered he scowled at me.

“What?” I asked.

“You look as bad as your mother.”

“Thank you.”

“Gabrielle your baby is due in about seven weeks. You should be taking care of yourself. Let the others help you.”

“I’ll tell Mom Doctor Winkle,” Wynne piped up.

“Good.”

I sighed heavily. “You’ll do no such thing Wynne. I’m fine. Can you girls go get the dishes from Yancy’s room?” I waited for them to leave. “She doesn’t want the others to know that she’s dying.”

“They aren’t blind,” Doctor Winkle argued.

“No they aren’t but they are good at ignoring the obvious and if that makes Yancy happy then so be it.”

“Then you’ll run yourself into the ground taking care of her.”

“I won’t let it get to that point.”