Safe Keeping

Helen moved to a third chair, settling at a table with a view of the bar door and the palm tree-studded dock.

“Gracias,” she said to the server who delivered a second margarita in a locally made bubble glass. Several dark moles covered the woman’s cheeks and neck.

“Want your suitcase now, Senora?”

Helen pulled off her light cotton gloves, to dig into her bag.

“Please keep it behind the bar. I’ll be here a while longer.” Helen passed a bill. When the woman reached her palm up to receive it, Helen pressed it into her hand and lightly squeezed in a practiced move. “Muchas gracias.”

The cool touch radiated health. The moles were benign.

The nine other senior citizens whom Helen had been grouped with the entire ten-day Mexican cruise bustled into the bar. They stacked bursting shopping bags and ordered drinks in newly memorized Spanish.

Charlotte beelined for Helen’s table, carrying a shot of tequila. Charlotte wore the turquoise blue embroidered dress she’d purchased at the textile tour two days ago. The color enhanced her already piercing eyes. The short sleeves exposed the drapes of skin that sagged from her shoulders to her wrists, stopping only for a slight gather at her elbows.

Charlotte said, “We missed you at the glass factory tour.”

“I prefer my glasses with something in them.”

Charlotte leaned toward Helen’s margarita glass. “I miss those sweet, salty beauties. After my bypass surgery, I can’t drink more than a shot.”

Helen interrupted the start of another surgery recount. “I met up with an acquaintance today.”

“How lovely. You know someone in Puerto Vallarta?”

“A friend of an old colleague. He gave me a tour of his hospital.”

Charlotte tasted the tequila, scrunching her face.  “Is that what old doctors do on vacation? Visit hospitals? I’ve had enough of those. Why didn’t you spend the day with your family?”

“They went parasailing.” Helen studied the rim of her glass, rubbing chunky salt grains to the side. “I can’t watch them come so close to death.”

“Didn’t they zipline this week, too?”

Helen nodded. “They swam with the nurse sharks, hiked an Inca pyramid, and biked up a volcano. Hardly activities for a seventy-eight-year-old.”

“At least they brought you on the cruise.”

“They didn’t have much choice. This trip is an early birthday gift to my son. I thought we could create some lasting memories.” Helen sipped her drink, letting the tiny slivers of ice roll on her tongue.

Charlotte touched Helen’s other hand. Helen jerked her drink. A small splash landed on the wooden table. A heat that drizzled out of Charlotte, kept Helen from pulling away. Life leaked from Charlotte at an unstoppable speed. There was time. But not much.

“What mother wouldn’t do anything for her children?” Charlotte released her hold. “Not that I’m doing great in the mother department lately. I haven’t talked to them in months.”

The tinkling of chimes from the cruise ship amplified across the plaza. “First call,” Charlotte gathered her bags.  “Aren’t you coming?”

“I’ll wait for my son.” Helen reached out to Charlotte’s arm, renewing her connection to the radiating heat. “Take my advice, please. Life is short. Call your kids.”

“You’re the doctor.”

Charlotte hurried out. The other women followed, leaving most of their drinks unfinished on the bar.  

Helen sipped into the second half of her margarita and watched the crowd outside on the hot, sundrenched plaza. Tiny souvenir shops edged the plaza where a mariachi band played. Waves of tourists flowed from shop to shop as they returned to the ship after a day of excursions.

Stacey and Susan walked into the plaza first, wearing the confidence of young women with the world at their feet. Christopher and Jenna followed, holding hands. Jenna called to the twins to wait up, then walked into a shop with them. Christopher wandered closer, watching the band.

Helen slipped her hands back into her gloves. “Christopher.”

He turned and shook his head. “Go figure I’d find my mom alone in a bar in a foreign country.”

“Join me.”

Christopher picked up a beer at the entrance, then sat. “What are you doing here? We put you on that tour today.”

“I decided I’d rather have some time to myself.”

 “I know what you’re saying. Teenagers are going to be the death of me.” Christopher popped the lime wedge into the neck of the bottle and drank.

“It’s your choice to take all these chances. You could say no.”

“You’re only fifty once.” He tapped his bottle against her glass.

“Is it really necessary to tackle every death-defying option available in ten days?”

“I’m going home to the test results that will reveal if I will live to see fifty-one. It’s not like I have a lot of time left.”

“Don’t say that.”

Christopher held her gloved hand. “I get it. You’re my mother. You want to squeeze every second out of my life that you can. But it isn’t going to happen. Like Dad and Sandy, this is going to be the last year of my life. What does it matter if I go out parachuting or from lousy genes?”

“You still have a thirty-five percent chance that you’ll dodge this bullet.”

“You’re a doctor. You see life wherever you look.”

“That’s not true.” Helen swallowed the last of the margarita as she struggled for safe words. “I can feel death.”

“I’m surprised you can feel anything through those ridiculous gloves you always wear.” Christopher laughed, then chugged his bottle. “Don’t worry. You’re the strongest little old lady in the world. You’ll live forever.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Why? You could live an eternity with your grandchildren, and great grandchildren.”

“If you were gone, I wouldn’t be a mother anymore.”

Christopher scooted his chair to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You’ll always be my mother.”

“Past tense. Like, I was Sandy’s mother. If you’re gone, I won’t be a mother. I can’t know what happens to you. I’ve lost all I can take without going mad.” Helen straightened in her chair and folded her hands on the table. “I’ve decided to stay.”

“Stay where?”

“Here. Mexico.”

Christopher pushed his chair back.

“How is staying in Mexico going to keep your mother status?”

“If I stay, I’ll never know what happens. I can live the rest of my life as a mother. Your mother.”

“What about me? How could you leave your last child?”

“You’ve been ready to leave me all week. If you’d died on any of your extreme adventures, I’d have been left out. You have Jenna and the girls. They’re more than able to take care of you if you need it.”

“You can’t run away.” Dark red splotches appeared on his cheeks.

“I already have.” Helen signaled to the waitress who rolled the suitcase over. “I met with the chief of the local hospital. We’ve been corresponding for months. He’ll take me on part time.”

“What do I tell the kids? They won’t have a grandmother.”

“They have Jenna’s parents. And they’re nearly out of the house.”

Christopher sunk back in his chair. “This is it? You won’t see me again?”

“I can’t. I can’t go through another loss.”

“What about my loss?”

“It’s the natural process. At some point children lose their parents. A parent losing a child, at any age, is devastating.”

“How will I know you’re okay?”

“I’ll be staying at the hotel across the street until I find a place of my own near the hospital. They need a diagnostician. I’ll be able to support myself. I don’t need much. I’ve left the house and everything else in your name.”

Christopher grabbed the suitcase handle.  “This is ridiculous. You’re really losing it. Let’s go back to the boat. You need rest.”

Helen allowed Christopher to lead her toward the cruise ship. She soaked in his closeness.

Jenna and the girls met them at the foot of the gangplank. Helen stopped.

“Mom?”

Helen slipped her hand down to the suitcase. She pulled it from his grasp. “I’m drowning in fear.”

“Gramma?” Stacey asked. “What’s happening? Why do you have your suitcase?”

“I’m off on a grand adventure. Take care of each other.” Her voice cracked. “Know that I love you all.”

Helen kissed each granddaughter, and her daughter-in-law.

They talked at once. Helen ignored them. She faced Christopher.

“I would love to spend what’s left of my life with you. But I couldn’t survive one minute without you.” Helen wrapped her arms around her son. “I’d rather live in denial that I’ll always be your mother.”

Helen turned away from Christopher’s shocked face and walked away as the ship sounded the final boarding call.

***

Helen pulled against the heavy white blanket. It didn’t budge.

“Doctora Helen, let me do that for you.” Elena pulled the blanket up to Helen’s chest.

“I don’t want to be a bother.” She tried to push the words out louder, but they were still a whisper.

“You have cared for all of us for seven years. Let us care for you.” Elena smoothed the hair off Helen’s forehead with a cool hand.

A chill rose from her feet up her legs. “The heat leaves me now,” Helen rasped.

“Have no worries, mi amiga. You have been a great doctora. You will find peace away from the pressures of life and death.”

“Peace.” Helen lightened as the heat in her chest moved down her arms. She closed her eyes.

Steps approached the bed.

“Mother?”

Helen struggled against the cold that threatened to halt her movements. She reached shaking, bare hands to her son.

Christopher sat on the edge of the bed, folding her frail hands under his own. He kissed her palm. A cool touch. A healthy touch.

“You’re here.”

“If you mean on the Earth, yes. After a tough battle, I beat the odds.” Christopher smiled at Elena. “If you mean at this hospital in Mexico, I’ve been here many times. You were able to continue to be my good mother from afar. I couldn’t be a good son without keeping my eye on you. You’ve been busy, saving this little piece of the world.”

“It’s been a good life. I’ve kept you alive in my heart.” A cold tremor sunk into Helen’s chest. She coughed, then gasped. Elena tried to place the oxygen mask back over Helen’s mouth.

Helen shrugged it away. The only heat left came from the hands that held hers.

“Love you.” Helen’s teeth chattered.

“I’ll always love you, Mom.”

The final warmth slipped out of her fingertips into her son’s.

Tami Casias