Disclaimer is back in Chapter One, but I'll reiterate that I don't own any character from the show "CSI."
Only a few more chapters to go! Please keep reading this! I'm so excited to finish a multiple-chapter story that I couldn't wait to post this! The next chapter will hopefully be up Sunday evening/Monday morning. -Lyssa
The next days and weeks tumbled in a mad, quick fury. Every assumption Sara had made about death from cancer seemed to be refuted. The doctors did not spend every minute shouting and cajoling and making the patient stay alive; instead, nurses quietly tended to Lilly and made sure that she was comfortable. Lilly's spirit, which had once seemed so indomitable and kick-ass, was one of quiet, passive submission to fate. Doctors came in twice a day, sometimes three times, to check 'vitals' and occasionally up medication. On her first day living at Grace House, Lilly had a stent placed in her bile duct, and was put on dialysis every other day. She became increasingly unresponsive and weak. Sarah and Jessie, the nurses, explained to Sara how she was under a great deal of pain medication and wouldn't be fully cognizant again. It was slow, sometimes maddeningly so, and often routine—medicine, sleep, a little talk. Lilly didn't have much to say, and was often pensive and drawn when the girls were at school. She often wrote things down for the girls or Sara, or gave Sara instructions like, "Remember to get senior pictures taken by November." "I promised them when they were eleven I'd take them to Europe the summer after their senior year, if you can please swing that." "Jules likes Kiwi Strawberry Propel water at every swim meet this winter—don't ever forget that. She's very superstitious. Grace will prefer the Berry or Melon for tennis this spring but she doesn't care much." "Talk to their guidance counselor and make sure to have them finish everything for college applications. Force them to apply to any school they think they might go to." She always sounded incredibly sad and worried whenever she made these pronouncements, which usually came at random times.
Sara hung around Grace House all day, finding crossword puzzles and Jeopardy! reruns for Lilly whenever she was awake. Sara got used to schlumping around in sweatshirts, henley tees, and unwashed jeans. The place didn't have any food, though there were fast food restaurants nearby, but Sara rarely felt like leaving during the day. Grace and Jules fell into a routine of bringing her Fazoli's with extra breadsticks every time they came.
Grace and Jules had an exhausting schedule. They spent all the required time at school and sports practices before coming to Grace House and spending the whole evening and most of the night there. Unfortunately, Lilly was rarely awake and able to carry on a conversation at that time of night. During her better hours, Sara often tried to convince her to let the girls skip practice or calculus a few times a week to come in. Though her body had lost nearly thirty pounds, she vomited everything she ate, and knew she only had a few weeks left, Lilly was still adamant that they not only attend everything but also perform very well. "This is their future. Eventually they'll know I'm right." Sara really doubted it—hell, even Margaret doubted it—but they abided by Lilly's wishes.
Saturdays eventually came around, and the girls and Sara spent the whole day there. The girls insisted on bringing a bunch of older, classic movies Sara had never seen but both the girls and Lilly seemed to enjoy—Breakfast at Tiffany's, Casablanca, His Girl Friday, Sabrina, Rear Window, The Philadelphia Story, and An Affair to Remember. Sara sat quietly, bored by most of the movies, but Lilly, Grace, and Jules, cramped on the narrow bed, spent the entire day laughing and crying and yelling at the characters.
Nick tentatively asked a few times if he should stop by, but Sara quietly told him no. Instead, they met for a few quick, distracted breakfasts at diners. He kept her updated on office gossip and tried to get her to laugh. He gave her burned CDs to take back to the girls.
One Monday morning, Sara smiled bravely at the receptionist at Grace House. The receptionist gave her the same sad, almost pity-filled smile she always gave her. As Sara rounded the corner into the quiet corridor where Lilly's room was located, Dr. Ringo said softly, "Sara." She turned and was slightly startled to see him there. He had his offices in a nearby hospital; he rarely came over to Grace House.
"Good morning, Dr. Ringo." She fixed a smile onto her face. It felt foreign.
"Sara—" he said again before hesitating. "I've talked with Jessie and Sarah, and the others on the nursing staff and those who attend to Ms. Lowry, such as Dr. Foster—Margaret, whatever—and Meredith Gideon. We've all decided—though Lilly seems to insist that the girls stay in school—that it would be a good idea to give them the option of spending the whole day, besides some breaks to get fresh air and a fresh perspective, starting tomorrow. It's unhealthy to spend all day here—but there's a good chance she'll slip into a coma soon."
Sara felt as if she'd been slapped. "And then it's—over?"
He nodded solemnly. "Yes. She's in a great deal of pain now—the cancer's completely destroyed most of the liver and pancreas. You've seen her—her color is extremely poor. Her liver is almost completely shut down." Sara nodded, her face slack and numb. With a bit more compassion than she expected, he continued, "Listen—I'll tell the girls when they get here. Cassandra will alert me, so I'll know when they get in the building. They usually arrive—around six, or so, right?"
"What? Yeah." Sara nodded vigorously. "Yeah. They'll be here about sixish."
"You should probably take a walk or something." The doctor said kindly. The kindness from the condescending hack made the news doubly harder to take.
Sara walked quickly and jerkily outdoors, her allergies beginning to flare up. Her nose started twitching and her eyes started watering. Her breathing became heavier and erratic. She found herself at her car and got in, intending to drive to a mall to find a nice black dress or pantsuit or something—it seemed inappropriate to wear a used outfit, just as it seemed inappropriate to use the outfit for anything else after—well, after. She was able to drive about six blocks before she pulled over and sobbed for twenty minutes.
After that crying binge, she dabbed at her eyes, careful to avoid her eyelashes, before she remembered she wasn't wearing any mascara. She drove on to the nearest mall that wasn't a strip mall. It definitely wasn't the biggest in Vegas, but it was two stories and air-conditioned and worked. She parked far enough away that she could get exercise on the hike in. After she found her way into Neiman Marcus, she stood in the dress section and turned around, blinking as if the light was unwelcome to her eyes, several times before a tiny, round saleslady with a kind voice and heavily hairsprayed coif sought her out.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
Sara jumped and blinked at that voice. "Yes." She said, trying to sound businesslike and coming off dazed. "Yes. I need a black dress. Or pantsuit. Whatever it is, it has to be black."
"Oh," she said in a knowing tone. "Fancy party at the office? Or perhaps the husband's?"
Sara instantly decided this woman was extremely dumb. "No, actually. I have a funeral."
"Oh." She sounded struck, but quickly recovered and pulled a face. "Well. Yes. Right this way." Sara followed her blindly. "Someone close, I presume?"
"Yes." Sara said thickly. "My cousin. She's been living with me for the past few weeks. Cancer."
"That's horrible." The woman fingered a dress and sounded as if Sara had just announced something obvious, like it was Monday. "What from?"
"Cancer. She's—she's not gone yet. But soon."
"I am so sorry." She pulled a dress from the rack, "What size? I think this will suit your height."
"Two, please."
"Goodness, you're quite thin." The woman didn't intend for it to be a compliment or an insult, merely an observation. She handed Sara the dress. "Try this on." It was a lovely, A-line quilted dress without sleeves, and a plunging V in both the front and the back. "It's simple and elegant. Very Jackie-in-the-White-House. You have hints of her style."
Sara threw it on quickly. It was stunning on her, but she barely looked in the mirror. "Yes. This will work. Thank you." She headed for the cashier's, paid, and left.
Instead of heading back to Grace House, as she intended, Sara impulsively turned towards the girls' school. It was in a quiet, new, residential area of Henderson—a small, brick, neatly trim two-story that was quite inconspicuous. A small sign outside identified it. Sara stalled and parked, heading in. She followed the signs to the main office, barely remembering being there before. "Yes. Hello." She replied to the secretary's crisp welcome. "I'd like to pull Jules Lowry and Grace Lowry out of school."
"You'll have to head for the attendance office, right next door. Are you family? You must be family, if they're under eighteen. I believe they are."
An unexpected lump formed in Sara's throat. "Yes. Yes, they are."
The secretary smiled and nodded, unsure of how to assess the situation. "Right then. Next door." She waved with her wrist before turning back to her work.
Sara walked into the second, smaller office. "Hi." She said to the larger, less-friendly secretary. "My name's Sara Sidle. I'd like to call Grace Lowry and Julia Lowry out of class for the rest of the day."
Though the secretary looked intimidating, she was obviously very in-tuned. "They're the transfers whose mother is dying. Is everything alright?" she said concernedly.
"Yes. No. Not really. It's a fluid situation. I'm their cousin. I'm on the contact sheet and I'd like to take them out." Sara spoke slowly, confusedly, as if she was processing everything from underneath water.
"Of course." She said sympathetically, almost patronizingly, and pressed the correct buttons before saying, "Madame Bround? Could you send Grace Lowry to the attendance office with her things?…Great…Thank you." She turned to Sara. "Grace is coming from French class right now. I'll call Julia." Sara nodded and the woman dialed again, "Mrs. Patton? Please send Jules Lowry to the attendance office. Her cousin would like to speak with her…Thank you…Have a nice morning."
The girls arrived within milliseconds of each other; Grace was worried, Jules was panicked. "Sara? Is Mom…" Jules's voice trailed off.
"She's about how she is last time you saw her." Sara assured her before turning to the secretary, who handed her the requisite forms. "I just… Let's go." Both girls looked shocked and scared at Sara's behavior.
"Why did you pull us out?" Grace said, her voice carefully tempered. "I mean, you did just say everything was alright."
Sara whipped around, thankful that her sunglasses allowed her some protection from their emotions, so that she could speak freely. "Your mother is still alive, yes, but—it won't be long, according to Dr. Ringo. I just wanted to, you know, pull you out."
Grace looked at her skeptically. "You just wanted to pull us out?"
"Yeah." Sara saw a Starbuck's nestled in the corner of a strip mall and pulled to the side. "Let's stop here, get some coffees or something, before heading back to Grace House."
"You sure Mom's not dead?" Jules tried for jocular and landed at honest.
"Yes." Sara said, stepping into the line. "What do you girls drink?"
Jules ordered a mint mocha, and Grace got a vanilla hazelnut latte. Sara quickly ordered a caramel macchiato and guided the girls to a seat. "Seriously, now." Jules said. "Don't keep—taunting us. You're acting funny. Something's wrong. What's up?"
Sara stared quietly at her macchiato. "Dr. Ringo found me this morning—his recommendation is that you start spending your days at Grace House. He thinks she'll slip into a coma soon."
Grace pressed her fist to her mouth as if she was going to be sick, but Jules—melodramatic Jules—simply fingered the rim of her mocha and sighed sadly. "What did she say?"
Sara struggled for a minute. "I don't know if he told her. Would you want to know?"
"Yes." Jules said simply. "Yeah, I would."
Sara swallowed. "I'm not sure. Let's—let's just get back there. Figure out what to do."
They silently stood up, tossed their cups, and walked out to the car. The ride to Grace House was mostly silent, a burned CD from Nick providing the only music. Suddenly, though, the song changed, to "You've Got a Friend in Me" from Toy Story and Grace inexplicably started to cry, "This was—is—one of Mom's favorite songs," she sniffled. "Don't you think it describes her perfectly? At least, it does to me." She sniffled again, "It's just sad."
"Everything is sad here," Sara said quietly, and both girls began to sob. Sara held it together and drove on to Grace House.
The girls pulled themselves together, and they walked in silently. After finding their way to Lilly's room, they were shocked when she rolled over and smiled at them when they walked in. "Hey, girls." She said softly.
"Hi, Mom. How are you?" Jules sat down next to her mother.
"I'm good." Lilly turned upwards towards them and said simply, "It's only eleven AM."
"Yeah—I pulled them out of school, Lilly. I just thought that they—"
Lilly lifted a bony hand. "Dr. Ringo, Margaret, and Meredith talked to me this morning." She said. "It's alright with me. Honestly." She sounded quite tired. "I'd rather have you here."
"Oh, Mom." Grace sighed, and curled on to the bed. "Thank you."
"I'm sorry, girls. I hope you know that." Lilly mumbled.
"Oh, Mom. Don't be." Jules breathed heavily, holding back the tears. Sara leaned in the doorway, feeling like an intruder. "We're going to be okay, you know."
"Yeah, you did great." Grace stroked her mother's arm. "We're going to work out right. Please don't worry. Everything will be okay."
The end came quickly. The girls stayed the whole of that night in Lilly's room, and Lilly inconspicuously slipped into unconsciousness at about three AM. Medications were adjusted; nurses quietly handled the grim prognosis. Sara went to the house and packed a bag for each of the three of them with supplies for the next few days. The girls were surprisingly calm, which Sara attributed to a blend of stoicism, their mother's strength, and utter numbness.
Tuesday and Wednesday passed in a quiet, pregnant haze; the girls held their mother's hands, arranged her pillows, and called their grandparents. Sara even spoke to Nathan for a few minutes; he and Maggie weren't able to make the trip out to Las Vegas but would be there, "when it's needed."
Thursday came with a foreboding, dark aura surrounding it. Lilly's vitals were down, and they weren't going to try to get them back up. Still, she struggled through the day. Jessie told the girls to leave for lunch, but they refused on the grounds of the "bathroom rule": whenever you ate in a restaurant, and were impatient for the food, you finally went pee and then the food came when you were in the bathroom. The same principle apparently applied to their mother's death—if you left the inevitable happened.
Sara found this rule ridiculous; to prove it to the girls she went on a quick walk about four in the afternoon. Instead the girls proved her right.
As she rounded the corner on the way back to the room, Sara saw Jules and Grace sitting quietly in plastic chairs outside the Hospice room. "Told you the bathroom rule applies." Jules said, looking up at her with tears in her eyes. "She went about—" she looked up at the clock, "eight minutes ago."
"We were holding her in our arms." Grace said. She was folded together very tightly, holding everything in. Suddenly, her face started twitching and she started crying. She grabbed Jules's arm. Jules collapsed over her sister, grasping at her back and sobbing until she gasped.
Sara rushed over to the girls, herself starting to cry. "Oh, girls. Oh, girls." A sobbing Grace pulled her into the hug. "Oh, girls. Oh, God." Sara cried uncontrollably—for herself, for the girls, and for Lilly.