To Catch A Thief

Even though her mother’s eyes were open, she didn’t answer.

“Please be all right.” She stroked Mamá’s hair and rested her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Red and blue emergency lights flashed on the street. “The paramedics are here. I’ll be right back.”

She shoved open the door. “In here.”

Uniformed men and women filled the room.

“Patient’s name?” someone asked.

“Rosa Castillo.”

Carolina was shuttled to the side and a paramedic took her mother’s blood pressure and checked her pupils. Another installed an IV.

“What’s that for?” she asked, biting her lip.

“In case we need to administer medication.” They worked and talked, but not to Carolina. And that was fine. She wanted their full attention on Mamá.

She wrapped her arms around her belly, a chill settling deep in her bones.

Mamá groaned.

“Ma’am?” the female EMT asked. “Can you tell us your name?”

Mamá didn’t answer.

Please be okay. Don’t leave me. Please be okay. I’ll get you anything you want. If I have to steal or go into debt, just don’t leave me. She repeated the mantra over and over.

A gurney clattered up the steps. The paramedics gently lifted Mamá onto the flat surface. With precise movements, they strapped her in place. The gurney clacked as they hoisted it up.

“We’re taking her to Memorial University,” the female paramedic said. “Do you want to ride with her?”

Ride with her. Carolina held her head to keep her thoughts from spinning out of control. If Mamá was going to Savannah, she needed her car. She didn’t have anyone to pick her up or drop her off. “I’ll... I’ll drive.”

The woman EMT touched her arm. “Are you sure you can?”

“I...yes.” She didn’t have a choice. Without her mother, she was alone.

* * *

CAROLINA SET DOWN her overloaded tote in the ER waiting room. She’d grabbed her mother’s wallet, both their cell phones, her charging cord and her mother’s makeup. Mamá didn’t go anywhere without makeup.

Next to a chair, she plugged in her phone. The ER was quiet. Two people sat on the opposite side of the room. One had a bloody bandage around her arm.

She wanted to pace. Wanted to cry. Wanted to see her mother. Was she conscious? What was happening?

She headed back to the receptionist. “I don’t think I told anyone who my mother’s oncologist is. It’s Dr. Laster.”

“Let me update the record.” The woman clacked away at the keyboard. “Patient’s name?”

“Rosa Castillo.”

“And her oncologist is Dr. Laster. Got it.”

Carolina’s stomach dived and banked. “Do you know anything? Can I see my mother?”

“A nurse will call when you can go back.”

“Thank you.” Carolina wanted to look over the woman’s shoulder to see what was in her mother’s record. She’d been waiting at least thirty minutes. What were they doing? She headed back to her chair.

Lord. She was losing it. She’d left her purse, bag and phone just sitting on the table.

She picked up a magazine. Threw it down. Stared at the news playing silently on the flat screen.

A nurse came to the door and called, “Ms. Calarion?”

The two people waved. The man supported the injured woman while the nurse led them away. At least they had each other.

Carolina paced. When Mamá had been diagnosed with breast cancer, they’d never ended up in the ER. Her mother had chosen a lumpectomy and everything had been outpatient. But Carolina had spent months helping her mother through her chemo. Holding her hair back as she’d thrown up.

Mamá had been in remission for so many years. Why now?

Her phone rang and she answered without looking at the screen.

“Hi, Carolina.”

“Sage?”

“I know we just talked this afternoon.” He laughed. “I wanted to hear your voice again. I’m not a stalker. Really.”

Stalker? “I don’t think you’re...” She broke down and sobbed.

“What’s wrong?”

“My...my mother,” she blubbered.

“Take a deep breath.” His voice soothed her like a warm blanket. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Mamá had a seizure.” She pressed her lips together so she didn’t cry. “I’m at the hospital. They won’t tell me how she is.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was that sick.”

She hadn’t wanted to focus on her mother’s cancer during their conversations over the last two days. “This is her first—I think.”

“That’s hard,” he said. “Who’s at the hospital with you?”

He was so sweet. “No one.”