All For Mother by K. Moore

Author:K. Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller/psych thriller
Publisher: K. Moore
Published: 2020-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

“So, how are you both today?” Dr. Fredericks greets us kindly.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Mother says. “It’s such a beautiful day out, don’t you agree?”

Mother’s been perky all morning, her good mood increasing with each person she talks to. If I wasn’t so excited about what this appointment means for me, I’m sure I’d be sulking in the corner. Embarrassed by the way she treats people and the overshare of information.

“Yes, it is.” The doctor sits in his chair, swiveling it to face the desk, and opens Mother’s file.

“We’re glad to be here,” I say. “I’m not sure who hates that boot more—me or Mom. We’ll both be happy to get rid of it.”

Dr. Fredericks places the folder down and turns back toward us. “I’m sure it’s made for some difficult times. Can we take the boot off, so I can look at the foot and leg, please?”

“Of course,” I answer for her, knowing when he said we, he really meant me.

“How is your family, Doctor?” Mother sits back while I unfasten the Velcro straps, trying to start a conversation over my head.

“They’re good, thank you. Can you take the sock off as well?”

I nod and peel the wool-blended garment over her ankle and off her toes.

“How many children do you have? Two, isn’t it? How old are they now?”

I ignore Mother’s banter and lift her leg, so the doctor can see her foot. “The boot’s been rubbing in a few places, but I’ve been adding padding and taping them as best as I can. It seems to be working. Other than slight discomfort, there’s no break of the skin or infection.”

“Good job. That can sometimes be difficult. You’ve done well to keep the pressure sores at bay.” His praise sends a warmth through me. He both appreciates and understands the lengths I’ve gone to, treating the pending blisters. “Two. I’ve a boy and a girl. Twins. And they’re seven now.”

“Twins. Oh my. Two little blessings sent from above. Twice the smiles, twice the love.” I follow Mother’s gaze and know what she’s going to say next. “Your wife is so pretty. And she must be an angel in disguise with the patience of a saint to look after twins. I hope my Ash will have kids one day.”

“Yes, my wife is special,” he answers Mother. Then, he continues to give me directions, “You can put the sock back on now and the boot.”

Boot? He wants the boot back on?

“What are you doing, Ash?” Mother pulls her leg back under the seat of the wheelchair, moving it away from the moon boot.

“The doctor asked me to put your sock and boot back on.” The words are said slowly, my voice rising a few decibels with an increased emphasis on the enunciation of each syllable.

She’s told me often that she finds it difficult to understand the lilt of the doctor’s accent, which is absurd, as he’s from upstate, not out of the country. Her hearing aids are in, but sometimes, she fakes

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