Matt checked us into the The Hermitage in downtown Nashville and immediately sent me to take a hot shower while he ordered room service. It took a whole lot of fighting on his part, but he finally got me to agree to sleep in a hotel rather than in a chair in mom’s room. My time with her is running short, and I want to be with her every minute. I feel guilty now... at this very moment, as I stand under the hot water and let it cleanse my body. I feel guilty because I only have precious hours left with my mom, but here I am in the comforts of a swank hotel.
The only reason I’m here is because Matt gently reminded me that my mother is essentially gone already. That she has no comprehension, and she wouldn’t know if I was sitting by her side or sitting in a hotel. But the real kicker—the way Matt got me—was he told me that based on what he’d learned about my mom that day, she wouldn’t want her daughter suffering and would want her to get some rest.
I caved, and now here I am.
I had made my decision to discontinue extraordinary measures for my mom. Dr. Fritz asked how much time I would need for friends and family to say goodbye, and I honestly wasn’t sure. My mom and dad’s families were all out in California. Mom and Dad had settled in Nashville when I was three years old.
After a brief call with Aunt Kay, my mom’s sister, she felt we should let her go now rather than wait for them to all fly in. No one really wanted Mom suffering on the respirator for very long, and Aunt Kay promised she’d be in the following day to help with the funeral. That left her friends locally, and I merely called her pastor and advised him that if anyone wanted to visit, they could come by in the evening.
I told Dr. Fritz I wanted to do it first thing in the morning, and so we scheduled it for eight AM. I even put an appointment entry on my iPhone calendar, and then realized that was a fucking moronic move. There was no way I was going to forget this particular appointment, so I erased it.
Finishing my shower, I brush my teeth. I take a few minutes to dry my hair before I throw on the hotel robe that Matt had apparently stuck on the back of the door because it hadn’t been there when I stepped into the bathroom.
When I come out into the room, I see that Matt has some food laid out.
“I know you ate just a few hours ago,” Matt says as he uncovers everything, “so I just got something light… some soup and sandwiches. And after you eat, you’re heading straight to bed to get some rest.”
He pulls the chair out for me to sit down, so I do. He even takes my napkin, snaps it out, and lays it on my lap with flourish. I really and truly cannot help the giggle that comes out. That seems to egg Matt on so he opens the bottled water and holds it out for me to inspect, stating, “Our finest vintage, madam.”
“It looks spectacular,” I tell him, and we both chuckle while he pours me some water.
Matt keeps my mind occupied as we eat. He tells me that Lorraine seems to have calmed down, and they are rationally discussing Bill taking over her caseload. I also make a quick phone call to Macy just to tell her how sorry I am for my behavior and assure her I wasn’t thinking clearly. She told me she was catching a flight to Nashville in the morning and that she would stay here until I was ready to come back.
When we finish eating, Matt takes the tray and sticks it outside our room door for housekeeping to pick up. I root through my bag, trying to find something to wear but, apparently, I didn’t throw in a single pair of pajamas. Grabbing a pair of underwear, I slip them on under the robe, and then stand up. I place my hands on my hips, looking around in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” Matt asks.
“I forgot my pajamas.”
“No worries,” Matt says, and he lifts the t-shirt he’s wearing over his head. He tosses it at me. “Put this on… it will be more comfortable than wearing that robe to bed.”
I open the robe and shrug it off my shoulders, dropping it to the ground. I have no modesty where Matt’s concerned… he’s seen it all.
Hell, he’s licked it all.