To Catch A Thief. Nan Dixon

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       CHAPTER TWO

      CAROLINA GRIPPED HER mother’s hand as they waited for Mamá’s oncologist. Her fear of losing her mother was back. Mamá had had a CAT scan yesterday and they were here to review the results.

      Were these the same miserable chairs they’d sat in ten years ago? Carolina had been fifteen and she’d focused all her energy on helping her mother through radiation and chemo to fight her breast cancer.

      It’d been a week since she’d arrived and they were fighting the same ten-year-old battle. Maybe after Mamá received treatment, Carolina would return to Nashville and resurrect her career. Maybe Mamá could come live with her.

      “Rosa. Carolina. Good to see you.” Dr. Laster, her mother’s oncologist, entered the room. “Rosa, you have some choices to make.”

      Apparently, Dr. Laster was still as straightforward as Carolina remembered. The doctor turned a computer screen toward them and moved around the desk to stand between her and Mamá. “You have tumors in your brain, here and here. And a new one since your scan a month ago.”

      “Wait. A month ago?” Carolina asked. When her mother had called, she’d sounded like she’d just gotten the news.

      Dr. Laster nodded.

      “Mamá. Why are you only discussing treatment options now?”

      “I took that cruise with the law firm.” Her mother waved her hand. “I didn’t want to look hideous.”

      “But your health?” Carolina couldn’t believe this.

      Dr. Laster squeezed Carolina’s shoulder and shook her head.

      “They were just headaches. I’ve had them for months.” Her mother pushed back her hair. “Dr. Laster will make the tumors go away.”

      “Rosa, I told you—” Dr. Laster took her mother’s hand “—your prognosis, even with treatment, is less than a year.”

      Less than a year? Tears slipped down Carolina’s cheeks. She’d thought Mamá would be treated and survive. How could she lose her beautiful, flighty mother?

      “Don’t cry, darling.” Her mother smiled. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

      They laughed. Carolina’s chortle a little more watery than her mother’s or the doctor’s.

      “This time is different.” Dr. Laster took Carolina’s hand, sympathy filling her eyes. “Rosa, I need to confirm that Carolina is authorized to discuss your medical care and condition with your care providers.”

      “Yes. Yes.” Rosa waved her hand.

      “As I said before, please work with a lawyer and create your health directives. It’s time to get your affairs in order so you don’t have to worry in the next few months.”

      Health directives. Affairs. Next few months. Carolina’s head swam.

      “How I wish for an affair,” her mother sighed. “But I only loved Carolina’s daddy. He’s been dead twenty years.”

      Her mother sounded like she’d abstained from sex for twenty years, but that hadn’t been the case.

      Carolina choked out, “What are the next steps?”

      “Whole brain radiation therapy. Two weeks. This will keep you comfortable, Rosa.”

      “Comfortable?” Carolina’s hands trembled. “Won’t radiation eliminate the tumors?”

      Dr. Laster settled into the chair next to her mother. “If you’re lucky. But waiting has—hurt. I wish you’d come in months ago when you started having the headaches.”

      Her mother waved her hand. “I know you’ll fix me.”

      Her mother had ignored headaches and put off therapy for a cruise. Carolina tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was stuck.

      Dr. Laster took them through the next steps. Her assistant booked appointments. Preliminary visits. Follow-up visits. Consults. Carolina wrote them down because her mother wasn’t paying attention.

      When it was time to go, Carolina gathered her purse and her mother’s. Mamá left the room first.

      Dr. Laster put a hand on Carolina’s arm. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your mother, but her behavior may become erratic. It’s important to make sure you have authority over her care.”

      “It’s already erratic.” Since she’d arrived, Carolina had noted Mamá’s mood swings. They were more than her mother’s normal flightiness. “When the headaches hit, they’re bad.”

      “Keep using her medication. Try massage if it gives her relief.” Dr. Laster handed her pamphlets and a business card. “Call me anytime. And use the nurse line, too.”

      “Thank you.”

      “I’m sorry to be seeing you again.” Dr. Laster gave her a one-armed hug. “I’ll make Rosa as comfortable as possible in the time she has remaining.”

      Time remaining. Each phrase struck blows at her heart. “Thank you.”