Page 89 of Scandal
She doesn’t bother waiting. She just storms off again, and we’re expected to follow. Neither of us minds, however, if it means getting us out of this depressing waiting room.
The relatives’ room, however, isn’t any better. The moment we step inside, a heavy, somber feeling hangs in the air. Several people glance up as we enter, many with red, blotchy faces or wads of tissues in their hands. But none of them even seems to notice us. I let out a quick sigh of relief, which quickly turns to guilt when I realize these people are so overwhelmed with grief and anguish over their loved ones that they don’t seem to notice anything else around them.
Meanwhile, my father could be dying somewhere down the hall, and my biggest concern is being recognized. I swallow the lump of anxiety that’s been lodged in my throat ever since Mac made his appearance in our suite this morning.
“Do they know what happened?” I ask as we find a quiet spot in the back corner. My mother takes a seat opposite us. At least the chairs are an upgrade from the creaky metal ones in A&E.
“No,” she answers, crossing her arms. “But I told him he needed to quit those walks. I knew it was too strenuous and—” Her voice cuts out, a rare moment of insecurity bleeding through.
It’s so startling, I’m at a loss for what to do. Growing up, this woman rarely showed emotion unless it was disappointment or anger. She’s not the type to get choked up on Christmas morning or become teary-eyed at a wedding. She’s made of sterner stuff, or so she claims.
Mercury, however, stands up, takes the seat right next to her, and pulls her into a tight hug. I almost lunge forward to intervene before my mother lashes out or I don’t know—screams? But then the craziest thing happens. My mother’s rigid posture loosens just a bit, her arms slowly lift from where they’re pinned to her sides, and suddenly she’s hugging Mercury back.
Just when I think she can’t get any more amazing, she goes and does something like this.
The two women embrace for a moment longer until my mother pulls back, giving Mercury a gentle pat on the shoulder and a genuine look of gratitude.
I watch as she straightens her posture and smooths her blouse, as if rebooting a computer to fix a glitch. “Right, well, I’m going to get in contact with Connor and Greggory and see how we can manage this. There was no way to hide the ambulance leaving the estate this morning, so there will be questions. We’ve got to strategize what we’re going to say.”
“Why not just tell everyone the truth?” I suggest.
Her eyes widen. “Are you serious?”
“What’s the harm?” I ask as Mercury watches us parry back and forth.
She lowers her voice. “The harm is that as soon as everyone knows your father is dying…” I wince at her bluntness. “The spotlight suddenly shifts to you.”
“It’s already on me,” I argue, throwing my hands up. “It’s been on me for years.”
“I know.” She scoffs. “That’s the problem.”
My eyes narrow. “Are you ever going to get over that?”
“That my son ran off without so much as a word, and that the only times I ever see him for the next thirteen years are splashed across the pages of gossip magazines?” she snaps under her breath. “No, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that.”
“It goes both ways, you know?” I snap back, making sure to keep my voice low. The people in this room don’t need our family drama added on to the horrible day they’re already having. “I was just eighteen when I left. Practically still a child.Youwere the adult. You could have come after me, Mum. You could have done something to let me know you—” But I stop short because I’m too fucking scared to finish that sentence.
“To let you know what?” Her eyes are wide and full of something I don’t recognize. Vulnerability, maybe?
“Kn—Blackstone family?” someone calls out.
We all turn our heads at once—even Mercury, who figured out almost as quickly as I did that my mum had asked them to use an alias, which I’m grateful for—although not a very good one. I may be all about being truthful about my father’s illness, but not until he’s released and far away from here.
I don’t want to cause the hospital undue stress because of my presence here.
The physician notices and avoids making us respond or disturb the other families. She’s a young woman, probably not much older than me, with dark skin and kind eyes.
“Hello,” she greets us as Mercury moves back to the seat next to me and takes my hand. “I’m Dr. Wright, one of the consultants looking after your father.”
Knowing how high-strung my mother is right now, I step in before she can reply, “Nice to meet you, Dr. Wright. I’m Asher, and this is my mother, the?—”
“I’m Theodora.”
My mouth nearly falls open. I’ve never heard my mother refer to herself simply as Theodora. Even growing up, when we were in public, I had to use her title. She really must be paranoid about this getting out before she can control the narrative.
I’m still surprised she allowed the two of us at the hospital. All it would take is a single photo from one of the random people in this room…
“It’s nice to meet you, although I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
