MOTHER

When Marco and I enter the house, Fabiola says that my mother has called and wants me to call immediately. "Did she sound worried?" "She always sounds worried." "But did she say anything in particular?" "She said that she wanted you to call as soon as you came home." I pick up the phone and dial the number that hasn't changed in 30 years. "Hello, Mom. Is everything okay?" "Are you telling me everything? Are you and your sister hiding information from me. I don't want to be kept in the dark. I want to know the truth. I can handle it. It is better than not knowing." "We're not keeping anything from you. The doctors give you the most dire scenario in order to prepare you for the worst. We know that Michael is seriously ill and we know that he could die. We've shared that information with you. Nobody is hiding anything, Mother." "It seems so unfair. Your brother has always been so healthy. Why did this have to happen to him?" "We have been fortunate as a family, but as long as you keep postponing the inevitable, the end will come with a bang. Think of all the poor families that are losing sons and daughters in the Middle East. If it's our turn, we have to be strong." "How do you think your brother looks? He looks peeked to me." "Mother, he had his brain sliced open three months ago and he's taking a double shot of chemotherapy and radiation. He's going through a difficult period." "He's not returning my calls." "Mother, he doesn't return calls in general. You know how he is. He hates being bothered. He likes his space." "What time are you going on Tuesday?" "We're leaving at six. He doesn't have his appointment until two." "I'm praying. I know you don't believe in God, but I've seen him do marvelous things." "Keep praying, Mother. Everything helps. Let's hope for positive news." "What time are you coming back?" "I'm not sure. I think we're staying overnight. That's too much driving for one day. The Astros are playing and we'll probably see a game. You know how much Michael loves that stadium. No matter the news, we're going to eat and drink well." "I want you to call me as soon as you leave the office." "I will, Mother." "You have to promise me." "Mother, I will call you as soon as possible. You need to relax. He is receiving the best medical care in the world and he has outstanding insurance. Think of all the unfortunate individuals who aren't in our position to meet this illness. There's no reason to lose hope." "I pray you're right, honey. Your father would be shattered if something happened to your brother. How's Fabiola?" "She's cooking spaghetti." "She's a wonderful girl. Your very lucky to have her. And the children." "They're playing. They're doing well. We have a couple of soccer games this weekend." "Your father says that it has been two weeks since we've seen Marcos. Is he over his cough?" "He's healthy and he's tanned. He's a handsome boy. I'll have a barbecue this weekend and both of you can come over and we'll have a good time. Everything is going to be fine. I need to go. Fabiola is going to have dinner in a few minutes." "It's just that we're so worried." "I know, Mother. It's natural, but you and Dad need to relax. Don't think twice about calling if you need to talk. I'm always here." "Thank-you, honey. I know I can depend on you. I love you." "I love you, too, Mother." I place the phone of the receiver and take a deep breath. I dial my brother's number. It rings three times and the record answers: "Not available. Leave a message." I wait for the tone and respond, "I want to finalize our plans for Tuesday. Give me a call. Give Mother a call. You know how she worries. Take care."