Please, let me stay, she whispered, voice shaking. Im not going anywhere this is my home and I wont abandon it. Her words were thick with unshed tears.
Mum, Luke said softly. You know I cant look after you the way you need me to you have to understand.
Luke felt a knot in his chest. He could see his mother, Eleanor Smith, trembling on the sagging settee in the cottage theyd grown up in, the one on the edge of the little Yorkshire village of Bramley.
Hed known the worst was coming. It was a stroke. Eleanor had been ill before, but this time the damage was serious. Luke remembered taking months off work years ago when she broke her leg she could barely put a foot in front of her without his help.
Luke had recently started earning a decent salary, and hed even planned to refurbish the old cottage over the summer so Mum could live comfortably. Then the stroke hit, and the renovation suddenly seemed pointless; the priority became getting her into town for care.
Harriet will pack your things, he told his wife, nodding toward her. Let her know if anythings needed.
Eleanor stayed silent, staring out the kitchen window at the thin autumn breeze that was turning the ancient oak leaves gold. Her right hand, still functional, clenched tightly around the limp left one.
Harriet rummaged through the wardrobe, constantly asking Eleanor what to take and what to leave behind, while Eleanor just watched the world go by. Her thoughts seemed far away from dresses, old nightgowns, and cracked spectacles.
Eleanor had lived all ninety years in that dwindling village, working most of her life as a seamstress in the local workshop until it shut down when the population fell. She then stitched at home, later turning to gardening and housework, pouring her heart into the little plot of land behind the cottage. She could never imagine leaving that life for a cramped flat in Manchester.
Harriet, hes not eating anything again, she sighed, setting a plate down in the kitchen, exhausted. I cant keep doing this. Ive got no strength left
Luke looked at his wife, then at the untouched plate, and shook his head. He let out a heavy breath and went into his mothers room.
Eleanor sat on the sofa, eyes fixed on the window, not blinking. Her dull grey eyes stared into nothing. The functional hand rested on the other, as if trying to coax it back to life.
The room was littered with exercise bands, a stack of pills on the nightstand, and a few physiotherapy tools. If Luke hadnt been insistent, none of it would have been touched.
Mum? he called gently.
No response.
Mum? he tried again.
A faint, raspy voice answered, Yes, love? The words were slurred after the stroke, but she managed to make herself understood.
Why havent you eaten anything, Harriets making you soup every day. Youve barely touched a bite these past few days, Luke asked.
I dont want to, sweetheart, Eleanor whispered, turning slowly toward him. Really. Dont force me.
Come on, Mum tell me what you need, Luke pleaded, sitting beside her. She took his hand.
You know what I want, love. I want to be home. Im scared Ill never see it again.
Luke sighed, shaking his head. You know Im working every day, Harriets running from one appointment to the next. Its freezing outside, travelling isnt easy Lets wait until spring at least. Eleanor nodded, and Luke gave a small smile before leaving the room.
Dont be late, my dear dont be late, she murmured, her voice fading.
Later, in the fertility clinic, the doctor sighed, Im sorry, the IVF cycle didnt work again. She removed her glasses and looked at Harriet, who clutched her face in shock.
How? Everyone else seems to get pregnant after the first try. You said it was normal not to succeed the first time. Forty percent do after the first transfer. This is the third cycle and still nothing! Harriet wailed.
Luke sat beside her, hand gripping hers, nerves frayed. In the next wing, Eleanor was getting a massage, ready to be taken home.
Listen, the doctor began softly, I get that youre desperate for a baby, but youre living in constant stress. Your body just cant cope.
Of course Im stressed! Im juggling work from home to fund this outrageously expensive IVF, taking endless pills that ruin me, caring for my mother who either wont eat or wont take her meds. I just want a child, maybe then youll pay attention to me too, not just Mum!
Harriet snapped shut her bag and stormed out, slamming the door.
Sorry, Luke whispered.
Its fine, the doctor waved it off. Ive seen worse meltdowns. Everythings alright.
Harriet sank onto the waiting room couch, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed into her hands. She lifted her red, swollen eyes to Luke, choking out, Im sorry I didnt mean to bring up your mum. Im just exhausted. Watching her fade away, paying for endless tests that never work I cant do this any longer.
If I could, Id help both of you, but its beyond me, Luke said quietly.
I know, Harriet managed through tears, a faint smile breaking through. I get it.
They sat handinhand for a few minutes, then Harriet sprang up, smoothed her shirt collar and said, Lets go. Eleanors probably free now. She hates hospitals and hangs around for ages after.
A short, balding man in round spectacles whispered, Your mothers progress is almost nonexistent. He said it when Luke asked about her condition, careful not to be overheard.
Harriet stayed by Eleanors side.
The thing is, the old doctor continued, when you first came, I thought shed recover. Stroke recovery odds are low, but she had no smoking habit or chronic disease. She had every chance.
But nothings happening, Luke said.
It looks like shes given up, the doctor said quietly. Theres no spark in her eyes. She just doesnt want to live.
Luke nodded, having seen the same. Eleanor had lost fifteen stone, stopped reading, stopped watching TV, stopped talking to anyone. She just stared out the same window day after day.
After a stroke you can get behavioural changes because of brain damage, the doctor added. I didnt expect it to be this pronounced in her.
I think its something else, Luke murmured.
Luke, Harriet said into the phone, can you cancel the work trip? Eleanors getting worse. Im scared you wont make it in time. It hurt her to say it this was her husbands mother after all, and she watched the frail woman barely moving on the sofa.
She used to sit by the window, listening to vinyl records theyd brought from the village, a legacy from her father, whod been a music teacher. Now Eleanor just stared at a point, drinking milk the same milk shed once complained didnt taste like it did back home.
Luke arrived that evening, staying up all night beside his mothers bed.
You know what I want. You promised, Eleanor whispered.
Luke nodded. Hed promised. The next day they drove back to the village. The doctors office refused to admit her.
I dont want the hospital. I want to go home, she insisted.
It was March, but the roads were still clear enough to drive straight to the cottage. Luke opened the car door, helped her into a wheelchair.
Snow was melting, turning the yard into a patchwork of mud and shining slush. The trees swayed lazily in the mild wind, and the sun began to warm the air.
Eleanor spent a few hours outside, finally breaking into a smile, breathing deep, looking up at the sky and crying tears of joy.
She was finally home: the crooked little house, bright sunshine, birdsong, the crisp smell of thawing snow.
That evening she ate dinner on the patio, staying up a while longer before bed. A gentle smile never left her face. In the night she passed away peacefully, that same smile on her lips. She went out happy.
Luke and Harriet took a few days off to arrange Eleanors funeral, clear out the cottage and decide what to do with it. Honestly, Luke just wanted a few days of that fresh country air he hadnt spent more than a weekend there in years.
Before heading back to the city, Harriet felt ill. She rushed to the bathroom and vomited. When she returned, her eyes were huge with shock, a pregnancy test clutched in her hand. She kept it on her at all times, never getting a positive. Now, two lines stared back two!
Its her your mum shes helped us I still cant believe it, Harriet whispered through tears.
Luke looked up at the clear blue sky, nodded, and pulled Harriet into a tight hug. It felt like a final, priceless gift from his mother.
