Her Reason

Cristine closed the heavy black door behind her and breathed out.

“Wow, what was that?” she whispered, covering her mouth.

The cold air wrapped around her. She enjoyed the freshness it brought.
This was the easiest job interview I’ve ever been to. She turned and looked at the big black door again. And the shortest one.

Cristine put on her coat and walked down the stairs. On the third floor, the locksmith was still sitting at his desk, humming a melody, completely consumed by his work. She walked slowly. She felt light, almost like a feather, and everything around her looked surreal. This strange building and that strange man.

She tapped her brooch again. It was all thanks to you, I know.

Outside, the wind was raging. It tore leaves from the trees and swirled them through the air.

Cristine tugged her chin deeper into her big brown scarf and immediately regretted not wearing a hat. Her brown coat wasn’t very warm either.

“I am not allowed to catch a cold,” she said, watching the leaves dance in the cold air. “I’ve got to be at work on Monday.”

She giggled silently and headed toward the bus stop.

She longed to go see her mom, the only person she wanted to share the happy news with.

A white cab pulled up at the entrance of St. Mary’s Hospital.

“Thank you, sir.” She opened the door to get out, but the chatty driver decided otherwise.

“What’s a young lady like you doing here?” he asked with a smile.

Cristine looked at his funny mustache, so thick that she could barely see his lip beneath it. It made her smile too.

“I came to visit my mother,” she said, making another attempt to leave the car.

“Sorry to hear that, dear. I hope she recovers soon.”

His voice sounded overly pitiful. She didn’t wait a second longer.

“Thank you, sir. Goodbye.”

A painfully familiar path led her to the hospital. At the front desk, she stopped.

“Hello, Miss Robertson,” the heavyset nurse greeted her warmly.

“Hello, Rose.” Cristine glanced at the clock. It was 12:30. “Mom is in the garden?”

“As always at this time.”

Cristine waited as Rose prepared a visitor’s card and robe. She had met Rose when her mother, Sylvia, was first admitted to the hospital twelve years ago.
A sigh escaped Cristine before she could stop it.

“What’s the matter, honey?”

Her strong voice reached deep into Cristine’s soul. She would cry if Rose looked at her a second longer.

“I have good news for Mom,” Cristine said, forcing a smile. “I’m excited to tell her.”

“Here is your robe and card.” Rose placed the card around Cristine’s neck and smiled at her.

Sylvia sat on a bench beneath a large willow, unbothered by either the wind or the cold air. Her empty gaze, eyes fixed on nothingness, and her gray hair, carefully combed into a ponytail—long, thick, yet unattended—were always the same picture.

Cristine sat down on the bench beside Sylvia. The silence between them was nothing new. She allowed herself a few minutes of wordless presence. The wind stirred the trees, making them hum softly. Somewhere far away, nurses tended to other patients. But here, on that bench, there were only Cristine and Sylvia—yet Cristine felt as if she were completely alone.

“Mom, how have you been?” she finally spoke, her voice filled with tenderness. “I missed you.”

Cristine leaned in and kissed Sylvia’s cheek.

“You’re cold. You shouldn’t be sitting here anymore.” Cristine tugged the blanket higher over Sylvia’s legs. She took her skinny, wrinkled hand in hers and rubbed it gently.

“I got a new job today, Mom,” she said, looking down at her mother’s hand. “It’s well paid. I’ll be able to keep you here.”

A minute of silence. Cristine imagined what Sylvia would answer if she could speak.

“I know you feel better here, Mom.” Cristine continued rubbing her mother’s hand softly. Her fingertips brushed over an old scar on Sylvia’s left wrist. She looked at it. Tears rose, and her throat tightened painfully.

“This scar… it never healed. You and I never healed from what happened, Mom.”

Cristine lifted her mother’s hand to her lips and kissed it gently.

“I will take care of you. Whatever it takes.” Tears slid down her cheeks as she looked at her mother again. That empty stare had broken her heart a thousand times already.

“I have a job now. I will keep it.”