He leaned back slightly.
“I would like to run more tests,” he said. “And review her current medications and charts. Bring her in. We’ll take a closer look.”
Relief hit me. “Thank you.”
“How can I help you?”
The next few days blurred together.
Linda listed the house. Showings started almost immediately. People walked through rooms that still held pieces of our childhood.
I packed boxes while my mother rested.
We talked more than we ever had before.
It felt strange, but not in a bad way.
Meanwhile, I scheduled the appointments with Dr. Harris and arranged everything.
My siblings knew about the house, but not about the specialist.
We talked more.
The house sold faster than expected.
Within days, we had a strong offer.
When I told my siblings, the reactions were mixed.
Jack sounded annoyed; Eliza was distracted, and Nick asked about numbers.
We moved forward anyway.
The paperwork, the signatures, the final steps.
When it was done, the money was split.
Most of it, I made sure, was set aside for our mother’s care.
No one fought me on that. They’d already gotten what they wanted. Money.
We moved forward anyway.
Between the sale of the house, I’d taken my mother in to see Dr. Harris. She surprised me by not fighting about it.
***
A few days after the house sale was finalized, Dr. Harris called.
“I’d like your mother to come in again,” he said. “There are some things we need to discuss.”
My grip tightened on the phone.
“Is it serious?”
“It is important,” he replied.
I agreed on the time and date and hung up, then opened the family group chat.
“We have an appointment with a specialist tomorrow for our mother’s condition. Please be there. I have attached the details.”
The responses came quickly.
“Is it serious?”
“What specialist?” Jack asked.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Eliza added.
Nick sent, “Is this really necessary?”
I typed back.
“Please, for once, just meet me halfway.”
A few more complaints came in, but then they reluctantly agreed. Curiosity won over.
***
The following day, we all met at the hospital.
Our mother, whom I’d informed about the appointment after gathering everyone, sat beside me.
“What specialist?”
Then Dr. Harris called us in.
He reviewed the charts. “I have gone through your mother’s records. The decline you’ve observed isn’t as advanced as you believed.”
Confusion spread across the room.
