Chapter 14

Mary wasn't sure what to do with herself.

She'd brought along some paperwork, thinking perhaps she might be able to go over it before she turned it into the script department, but it lay there in her bag, forgotten. Jonah had been very kind, very assuring that her recent days off were not being held against her, that if there was a family emergency then she most definitely needed to be there and her segment could be handled by the others until she was able to return. She supposed she should feel grateful that he valued her enough to hold onto her when she had been so absent recently. Even when she was in the office her mind was a million miles away…

She glanced up at the double doors through which she was not allowed. Her mind raced with images of Rhoda on the operating table, doctors poking and prodding at her, tearing at her skin, pulling apart her ribs, hurting her in order to save her. Mary hated it, hated the very thought of her undergoing any sort of procedure. But this one was necessary, would save her life.

Though Mary had been quite convinced that Rhoda might never actually make it to the procedure. Their morning – well all of their past thirty-six hours – had been one long, drawn out nightmare. Rhoda was touchy, fussy, petulant about everything. She'd been frustrated, short with Mary, the two fighting about every last little thing. Mary knew, kept in mind, that it was out of fear and her inability to express it that had led Rhoda to be as awful as she had been. It did not excuse her antics, but it helped Mary to feel a little bit better. For perhaps that was Rhoda's way of expressing her frustrations, her worry…by lashing out. How very grown up of her.

And then Mary felt guilty for being upset with Rhoda for she was unconscious, unable to defend herself.

At least they had had one moment of reconciliation, of peace between them. The previous night when Mary had taken Rhoda into her arms, had held her close to her, breathing in the scent of her. And Rhoda had relaxed into her embrace, had not wiggled free nor started a fight about it. She had allowed Mary to hold her and she had cried. At first she'd tried to conceal it, to mask the fact that she was in tears, but soon it no longer mattered and she was crying there wrapped up in Mary. And Mary held onto her so tightly, so protectively, and they had somehow sunken into sleep.

The last sleep for nearly a week that they would have together in Rhoda's bed.

Mary's arms felt dreadfully empty as she wrapped her arms about herself and stared blankly ahead at the never opening door. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been nearly three hours. Surely the surgery was over?

She noticed a nurse saunter through the doors, a nurse who looked somewhat familiar. Mary found her legs clamoring to get up, found herself propelled forward. "Uh, excuse me." She stopped the nurse who looked at her with a rather rude glance, annoyed that someone had caught her on her way to something seemingly important. "Uh, I'm sorry to – um – bother you, but would you happen to know about my friend? Rhoda Morgenstern? Rousseau? You see she's been in surgery for some time now and I just –"

"I'm afraid I don't know. I'm not in surgery today, only intake. And I'm not allowed to give out confidential information about patients either." The nurse coldly regarded her.

"Uh, yes, but I remember seeing you. When Rhoda first checked in. And…and I'm not just anyone. I'm her…I'm…" Mary felt her cheeks reddening, flustered by her lack of words. "I'm…her…friend. See."

"That's nice, but I don't have any information. I'm sorry. I'm sure the doctor will find you when she's out of surgery." The nurse somewhat apologetically smiled and then went on her way.

Mary wanted to scream, to stomp her foot, to push through the double doors and demand to know where Rhoda was, to know that she was okay.

Her fists clenched and then unclenched. "Thanks so much." Mary sarcastically quipped to the nurse's retreating form.

Friend.

She'd called Rhoda her friend, as if they were every day acquaintances. As if they were still only friends with one another. After all they had been through they were so much more than just friends. So why couldn't Mary bring herself to say it was more than that?

Friends. Yes, of course they were friends. But they were more than that. So much more.

Lovers. Mary considered this word as she poured herself another cup of coffee. What would that nurse have thought if she'd said "My lover's in surgery and I need to know how she is." No, lover was not adequate either.

Girlfriend? Well, that just got into the complicated mess of girl friend verses girlfriend. And Rhoda was far beyond being only her girl friend. She was even more than a girlfriend.

Wife.

Wife. Mary had been one for twenty-two years. Wife. Rhoda had also been one. Twice. Could two women really be each other's wives? To live married to one another? Hadn't they practically gotten married twice over, almost legally, but not quite? They were one another's medical power of attorney. Rhoda was on her insurance. But no church would recognize them, would they? The state of New York had oddly turned a blind eye to gay marriage as well. Perhaps all those people up North who still lived on farms and disassociated with all the "city-liberals" had prevented legislature from moving forward.

Mary thought on this, for she had lived in the world of politics, knew of New York's inner battles. Steven had run somewhat conservatively, especially for a city guy. He had never officially stated his position on homosexuals to the public but she knew he had never condemned it. It was always a grey matter in the world of politics. Mary knew that he had nothing against homosexuals personally, for they had run in circles with plenty of gay men. But that had never touched her, had never meant anything to her. The fact that Nathan and Edward, two of their closet gay acquaintances, could not get married had hardly crossed Mary's mind. She and Steven had viewed them as a legitimate couple and that had felt like enough.

Now…now that Mary was experiencing what it was to truly love someone of the same sex, to truly want someone and to not be able to have it all…she was realizing how ridiculous the whole legal system truly was, how much it did matter.

Yes, she wanted to marry Rhoda. She wanted to make her her wife so that when a nurse asked her she could proudly, defiantly say "wife" and it wouldn't matter. She was only a person and Rhoda was a person and they were two people in love.

Why couldn't they get married?

The urge to marry wound itself tight in the pit of Mary's stomach, adding to her already nervous state. She hadn't eaten all day, not eating with Rhoda that morning in an act of solidarity. An act which Rhoda had snapped at her for, telling her she would regret it if she didn't eat, and why should Mary have to suffer when she was already suffering…the woman was becoming her mother!

Rhoda had been right though. Now it was doing her head in that she hadn't eaten, though she was quite certain she wouldn't be able to keep any food down if she tried.

She shifted in her seat, staring again at the clock to find that it had only been several minutes since she'd checked it. She hated this waiting. Hated it.

As she scanned over the waiting area again she noticed a familiar blonde headed in her direction, a brown paper bag in one hand and a carrier with three drinks atop it.

"Rose, what are you doing here?" Mary stood up and wrapped her arms about her daughter, surprised by how thrilled she was to see her there.

"Hey mom." Rose allowed Mary to hug her like she might never see her again. "Meredith told me to meet her here and I figured you probably hadn't eaten all day so I brought this." Rose held up the bag once Mary had let her go.

"Oh, Rose. Oh, baby. You're magnificent, you know that?" Mary happily took the meal from her daughter, excited to see a beautiful salad produced from the bag along with a sandwich. "How did you know?"

"I just figured you probably would be too upset or too worried to eat. I know you, mom." Rose grinned and took one of the coffee cups from the holder to sip it.

"You certainly do, dear." Mary conceded and bit into the sandwich which tasted then like heaven. "Thank you. Thank you for coming. You didn't have to come."

"Mom, please." Rose rolled her eyes. "Of course I needed to come. Meredith was upset about it and I figured you'd probably be too…"

"You know, I'm really glad you're so close with Meredith."

"I guess I am too, seeing as how we're practically step-sisters." Rose eyed her mother, with that serious, knowing look in her eyes. The one Steven used to give Mary when he caught her out in one of her harmless little lies about something or other.

"Oh," Mary realized that they had not yet had this little talk.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Rose shook her head.

"Well," Mary felt herself getting flustered. "I mean, I would have. I really wanted to, but Rhoda was worried about how Meredith would take it, you know after the divorce and everything, she was just concerned. So she wanted to wait and I figured I wouldn't mention it to you until she was ready. But then Meredith just kind of guessed at it so…oh, honey. I didn't mean to not tell you."

Rose's serious look slowly broke into a half-smile. "Oh, com'on mom. I'm okay with it. Promise! I mean, it's rather not what I expected, not from you. You who was married to a somewhat conservative politician all those years and played the role of political wife to a T. So it was a little shocking, but really I think it's kind of really cool. I can't believe you knew her all of this time and only now…I mean, did you guys ever do anything? When you were younger?"

Mary was caught off guard by this. "Uh, that is private information. That a mother should not really tell a daughter."

"So…you did?" Rose's eyebrows rose.

"Uh, no. No, nothing happened when we were younger. I had no idea."

"How could you have no idea? I mean from the minute I first saw you two together I knew it was fated to be. When you said she was moving in, how you immediately reconnected, and then when I saw her standing there beside you that first night when we all met. I just…how could you have not known?"

"I didn't know!" Mary insisted. "I didn't know." She looked down at her sandwich. "Oh, Rose. It wasn't like how it is now. It wasn't so easy. You're lucky to have grown up in this day and age where you can date who you want and you already know I support and love you no matter what. I never…I never had that from your grandmother and from daddy." Mary sighed. "I thought marrying a man was the only way to live your life. I'd heard about people 'like that', those strange, other people living an alternative life. I even knew a few gay men in Minneapolis. But…it was never anything I thought of for myself."

"Well, she obviously loves you a whole lot." Rose smiled.

"Yeah." Mary sighed, thinking of how horrible and rocky things had been the last few days. She wondered if Rose saw that, saw the real side of the relationship if she would agree. Though, Mary knew underneath it all that Rose was right. Rhoda did love her, and she Rhoda. Mary glanced at her daughter again. "You're sure you're okay with this?"

Rose nodded, "yes, of course. I want you to be happy and she obviously makes you happy."

"She can drive me up the wall, but…she does." Mary conceded. "She really does. And she better make it through this surgery soon or I will have a nervous breakdown." Mary clinched her jaw.

Rose patted her hand in reassurance before glancing up to find Meredith walking towards them.

"Meredith!" Rose called out, waving her arm about to get her attention. The dark-haired girl walked solemnly towards them, her face worried, upset.

"How is she? Do we know anything yet? Oh God, I can't stand this." Meredith fell down in a seat across from the Cronins.

Mary understood her sentiment. Meredith shrunk down in the chair, making it appear that she had been swallowed up by its surface.

"I brought you some coffee, first of all." Rose helpfully lifted a cup and handed it to Meredith. "Second of all, she's still in surgery as far as we know, but I know it's going to be okay." Rose smiled at Meredith.

Mary smiled distractedly at her wonderful daughter, relieved to know that there was one logical thinking person amongst the three of them.

"Uh, thank you." Meredith sat up to take the proffered coffee.

"You're welcome." Rose beamed, happy to play the upbeat one, to keep everyone's minds off the matter at hand.

"And, uh, thanks for being here, Mary. I know Ma is glad to know you're here." Meredith smiled at Mary and they shared a moment of equal sympathy and worry and fear and gratitude and pain.

Mary reached out and took Meredith's hand in her own. "She's going to be okay."

Meredith just nodded.

The trio glanced up to find Dr. Cohen standing near to them. "Hello there Mary. Nice to see you." He smiled and Mary immediately felt her nerves even out. Rhoda had come through the surgery, was okay, unharmed. She could see it in his face.

"How is she?" Mary scampered to her feet, Meredith standing right there at her side.

"She did great. We were able to take out the nodule and went ahead and took some nearby lymph nodes for testing. But everything looks squeaky clean. She's a little drowsy because of the anesthesia, but she should be waking up now."

"Can we see her? I need to see her." Meredith demanded at Mary's side.

"Uh, yes. Of course. Though, I would like to let you know that she does have a tube in her chest. This is normal after the procedure, just a way for us to get all the extra fluid out of her chest. It will be removed once the drainage has stopped. You may see her, though. She's in room 310."

"Thank you, Dr. Cohen." Mary at least remembered to do that much, her mind and body already racing to Rhoda before she'd even moved an inch.

"No problem. We'll be in touch." Dr. Cohen smiled and stepped back to point the way to the double doors.

This time Mary was allowed access, was allowed to take the doors to an elevator to the third floor where the recovery unit sat. It felt like ages and ages by the time they rounded the corner. Mary felt her heart pounding in her ears, felt a sense of calm envelop her when she could hear Rhoda's loud and petulant voice berating some poor, unsuspecting nurse in the room.

"But I don't want it! Why's it there? It hurts." Rhoda's drowsy, broken voice carried out into the hallway.

Mary's feet carried her faster, feeling sorry for whoever Rhoda was complaining to, for she knew that she was out of it and had no idea what she was saying.

Once she rounded the corner into the room she came to an abrupt stop. There was Rhoda, laying atop the hospital bed. She looked so helpless, so bare, so not-Rhoda, that it surprised Mary. She had no make-up on, only a bare face that was pale, her eyes still expressive, but unlined so that they were not nearly as large. Her hair hung loosely about her face, her arms full of tubes and needles, a hospital bracelet about her wrist, another, larger, tube coming from her chest but hidden beneath her hospital gown and the sheets. She seemed most agitated by this tube.

"If you can't leave it alone we'll have to tie your hands down. It's no good to try and pull it out. It needs to stay there." The nurse was calmly chastising her, as if her threats might work on Rhoda.

Rhoda happened to look up then, to see who was at her door and then her entire face shifted, morphed into the happiest, most ecstatic look Mary had ever seen before in her life. "Mare, oh, Mary! Oh, kid. You're here."

"Of course I'm here. I never left." Mary moved forward then, wanting to be nearer to Rhoda, to touch her, to hold her hand, to feel her there with her. She hated how pathetic Rhoda looked on this bed. She wanted to take her and leave with her right then and there, but that was not in the cards. Instead she took Rhoda's hand in her own, Rhoda's fingers clasping tightly at her. "Oh, Rhoda. You did wonderfully."

"Yeah?" Rhoda deliriously asked.

"You better leave that tube alone, though. You heard the nurse. I'll hold your hands down if you don't cooperate."

"Do you promise?" Rhoda's eyebrow curved up mischievously.

"Rhoda," Mary whined, "the girls are here." She whispered pointedly without turning around, knowing that Meredith and Rose were standing there behind her, watching this interaction with a great deal of interest.

"What?" Rhoda looked perplexed, confused.

"Ma, I'm here." Meredith appeared then at Rhoda's other side, taking her hand.

"Oh, Meredith. Oh, kid. You came." Rhoda's face lit up again.

"I did. I came as soon as my test was over. How do you feel?" Meredith inquired, looking her mother over.

"In pain." Rhoda sighed.

"Oh, Ma. I'm so glad it's over." Meredith smiled a little, patting her mother's hand.

"Me, too. Me, too." Rhoda nodded and then glanced up. "Oh, and Rose. Rose, you didn't have to come."

"Well, someone had to keep these two from drowning in angst and worry." Rose laughed.

Rhoda laughed as well. "I like her, Mare. She's a good kid."

Mary could only look down at Rhoda, Rhoda. Her Rhoda with such bright life in her eyes. So joyous, so full of fight. She could see the relief there, the happiness that the surgery was past, that this cancer was no longer inside of her. She just wanted to…to kiss her.

She leaned down, brushing a strand of hair from Rhoda's cheek. She intended on kissing Rhoda's other cheek, for it would be chaste, and kind, and simple. Though Rhoda moved ever so slightly so that when Mary leaned forward her lips met Rhoda's. Mary staggered back a little, taken off-guard, glancing at her daughter and then at Meredith who simply looked on with great admiration and love.