Chapter 59 People Don't Give Up Until the Very End.
Margaret quickly sent back: [I know you don't need it, but take it as a thank you. You said I ain't riding for free, right?]
Half an hour later.
Finally, after what felt like forever, he hit her back with a short message: [Helping you is my job. I'd do the same for anyone.]
The transfer got bounced back to her account.
Margaret thanked him on WhatsApp, but he didn't reply.
That evening, Margaret's phone buzzed. It was Nancy. "Margaret, swing by the hospital tomorrow. We gotta talk, and I can fill you in on your dad's recovery."
Margaret clutched her phone, anxiety creeping in. "Is Dad waking up?"
Nancy sighed. "Come tomorrow, we'll talk face-to-face. It's too much to explain over the phone."
"I'm cleaning your dad right now, gotta go," Nancy added before hanging up.
Margaret was left with a pit in her stomach from Nancy's tone.
Was Marlon's condition getting worse?
The Hughes family was already hanging by a thread. If something happened to Marlon, she was at a loss.
Margaret tossed and turned all night.
Her mind replayed childhood memories of Marlon, always working hard but never too busy to push her on the swing or snap pictures with her.
He drove miles just to get her favorite food.
Now, Marlon, who loved her to bits, was lying in a hospital bed, his fate up in the air. It broke her heart.
Waiting for morning was a torture for her.
Every minute dragged on.
Finally, it was morning, but the snow outside was still thick.
The wind was biting cold.
Mary, knowing Margaret had to go out, got a wheelchair ready.
Pushing Margaret, they made it to the hospital.
As soon as they hit the ward, Nancy had just finished wiping Marlon's face. Hearing them, Nancy turned and saw Margaret in a wheelchair. Her eyes filled with shock and pain. "Margaret, what happened to your leg? You were fine yesterday!"
Margaret glanced at Mary and smiled. "Mary, could you grab me a glass of water?"
"Sure thing." Mary, catching on, took the hint and left.
Once Mary was gone, Nancy's voice dropped, trembling with anger. "Who did this? Was it Sarah? Or Raymond?"
Nancy fumed, "Raymond's gone too far. I slapped Sarah, and he comes after you? Has he forgotten he wouldn't be where he is without us?"
Nancy was so mad, tears streamed down her face, her eyes red.
Margaret wiped her tears and forced a smile. "Mom, I'm fine. I just missed a step going downstairs. I've got medicine on it. That caregiver was hired by Raymond."
Nancy pursed her lips. "Really? It wasn't him who put you in that wheelchair?"
"No," Margaret lied. She couldn't bear to tell Nancy the truth. Nancy was getting old, and the truth would only break her heart.
Nancy wiped her tears, her eyes red and fierce, and said with a sob, "But he still can't escape blame. As your husband, he should've protected you better. Useless!"
Nancy asked, "Margaret, be real with me. Do you regret it? I didn't back your marriage back then, not 'cause I had anything against him, but 'cause I knew people change. I was scared you'd pick the wrong guy and end up miserable. And now, looks like I was right."
Margaret stared at her fingers resting on her knees, feeling a lump in her throat.
Yeah, she regretted it. People didn't realize until it's too late.
You didn't listen to advice until you'd been burned.
But now, what's done was done. What could she do?
Margaret blinked back tears, looked up, and forced a smile at Nancy. "Mom, I'm really okay. Doc said I'll be good in a week, tops."
Nancy walked to the cabinet, grabbed her bag, and pulled out a small chain with a cross. She handed it to Margaret. "This is a cross your dad and I got for you. After his accident, I forgot to give it to you. Keep it safe."
Margaret looked at the cross. It was small but beautifully made.
Nancy's voice was a mix of reproach, pain, and pleading. "Look at all that's happened to you. Ashley almost ran you over, and now you've sprained your foot. Keep this as a reminder. We only have you, and we can't lose you."
Hearing this, Margaret's nose tingled, and her heart felt heavy and complicated.
Margaret nodded and put on the cross, which made Nancy's expression soften a bit.
"Mom, how's Dad doing now?" Margaret frowned, looking anxiously at Marlon, lying in bed, pale as a ghost.
He had an oxygen mask on and needles in his hands.
Wires were wrapped around his heart and other areas, with a bunch of machines keeping him going.
Logically, after so many days of surgery, Marlon should've woken up by now.
Nancy held Margaret's hand, tears of joy in her eyes. "Your dad's a fighter. God bless him. The doc said he's out of danger and not in any life-threatening condition. He'll wake up soon."
Margaret pressed. "When?"
Nancy said, "The doc said about a month."
Margaret's smile froze, her nose tingling, and tears fell.
She couldn't wait that long.
In 20 days, she might not be around anymore.
When Marlon woke up, he'd have to attend her funeral.
How ironic, always one step short.
Nancy frowned and turned to leave the ward. "Margaret, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Is your foot hurting? I'll call the doc."
Margaret, sitting in the wheelchair, grabbed her wrist. Nancy looked back, confused. "Margaret, what's wrong with you?"
"Mom, I'm crying happy tears for Dad. Don't call the doc." Margaret cried and smiled, knowing the doc would only remind her that her days were numbered.
She didn't want to hear any more bad news.
Nancy's tense body gradually relaxed, smiling through her tears. "You scared me. I thought you were feeling unwell."
Margaret said, "Mom, just hypothetically, if I suddenly died, what would you do?"
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