Knotted Roots

Chapter TWENTY



We were standing there, holding each other, when Dr. Livingston made his appearance. He was smiling, and motioned for us to follow him. We followed behind him for a few minutes, finally joining him in his office. I looked around, taking in all of the diplomas and recognitions that covered the walls. In that moment, I was assaulted by the memory of that first day in town, at Daisy’s Diner, when I first saw him. The man in front of me was dressed impeccably, his suit pressed and tailored, creating an extreme difference in personas from what I had seen then to what stood before me now.

I felt terrible all over again. I had looked at this man with disgust when I first saw him. And yet here he was, saving my grandma’s life, oblivious to the horrible thoughts I had had that day. I had misjudged him horribly and as such, I could barely look him in the eye; instead I searched the top of his desk, my eyes coming to rest on a beautiful silver picture frame. A beautiful couple, clad in dirty coveralls, smiled brightly at the camera. It was a beautiful picture, the happiness and love they felt was real, you could almost feel it just by gazing upon their smiling faces. They were the epitome of happy simply because they had each other.

“There’s no easy way to say this...” I tried to listen, but each word he spoke threatened to pull me under again. He kept telling me about possible treatments, which I knew Grandma would say no to, and quality of life. Quality of life? How could he expect any quality of life when she was dying? My head snapped up at his words.

“Quality of life? Really? What, are you going to give her a bunch of pain meds and let her rot in that room? Are we going to watch her waste away? I don’t understand! Why won’t she do the treatment?” I wanted to scream again, but I registered the feel of Chase’s hand resting on my knee and I snapped back to reality.

“Your grandmother does not want to be miserable, and chemotherapy and radiation would make her very ill. The side effects are not worth it to some people, and that’s their personal choice. I can’t say that I agree with her decision, but ultimately she’s the only one who gets to make it. I will be there for her, every step of the way, keeping her in as little pain as possible. But you have to understand. She doesn’t want pity. She wants your love.” His words were filled with warmth and kindness, but at that moment I wanted to maul him. I wanted to make him suffer the way I was suffering. The way Grandma was suffering. To try and make someone feel the same aching rawness that trembled inside of me with every breath I took. But even as the thought fluttered through my mind I immediately rejected it, knowing that there was no way that I could either cause someone so much pain or that it would ultimately do any good. Yeah, I might feel better for a second, but it wasn’t going to change what was happening now.

“I need to talk to her. I can convince her to do the treatment. I know I can,” I stood up, determined to fix this. “I have to do this.”

“Roxie, wait,” Chase stood up and taking my hand, pulled me to a stop. “I know it’s hard to accept, but this is her decision. You can’t take this away from her.”

I snatched my hand away from him and glared up into his mesmerizing eyes, eyes that glimmered with unshed tears. “You’re wrong. I’m not taking anything away. I’m helping her.”

I left the office and strode up the hallway to her room. I found her room and knocked lightly on the door. When there was no answer I decided to go ahead and enter, pushing the door open slowly. I walked in and found her asleep in the bed. She looked so frail as she laid there, barely covered by the thin hospital blanket that was draped over her. She was barely recognizable as the woman I called Grandma.

I walked over to the bed and gazed down at her still form. Her chest rose slowly, silently assuring me that she was still breathing. I pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed. I gently lifted her hand and held it as I sat there, until I heard the door open once again. I looked up to find Chase and Dr. Livingston standing there, both of their faces drawn and tight.

“You have to do something. I can’t lose her,” I whispered to them, my desperation eating away at my strength. “Please.”

Dr. Livingston walked over and put his hand on my shoulder. His touch was warm and soothing, easing a small part of my fear, but not enough to completely appease me. “I promise you, we will do everything we can to help her. But we can’t go against her wishes; no matter what any of us may think is right.”

“She’s had a long life,” said Chase as he walked over to the other side of the bed, gazing down at the woman he loved like his own grandmother.

“She has made a very large impact on our community,” said Dr. Livingston. “I remember visiting Betty and Angela at the farm when I was growing up. They were both so welcoming and kind, never turning me away when I needed a friendly smile. I honestly believe that if it hadn’t been for them, I wouldn’t have made it through my own childhood.”

I listened as Dr. Livingston and Chase sang Grandma’s praises, both of them expressing deep gratitude and love for this exceptional woman. It was hard to deal with when I thought about how many lives she had affected. A small part of me wanted to hold a grudge because of her absence in my life, but how could I now? How could I be angry at a dying woman?

It hit me like a ton of bricks as realization slammed into me. This was why no one wanted to tell me about the cancer. Grandma wanted me to love her, and respect her, for who she was, not because she was would be leaving this world soon. She wanted to gain my love and earn my trust because I was willing to give it, not because I was coerced or suffering from some misplaced sense of guilt. It made me think of how terrible I had been to her the whole summer. I had made it a point to upset her on multiple occasions, persistent in my mission to make her miserable.

How could I have been so utterly cold and uncaring? I’m not a terrible person, but I had shown everyone here that they had good reason to believe me to be one. I had been acting like a spoiled brat throwing a monumental hissy fit. I was the epitome of obnoxious, and this woman had done nothing but support me, push me, and love me. I had to figure out a way to make it up to her somehow. At this point I had no idea what I could do, but I knew that I had no choice but to figure it out. Before our time together ran out.