Fatal Hearts by Grace Haddad

Author:Grace Haddad [Haddad, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen: An Awkward Appointment That I Really Wish I Skipped

A few days later we are once again rushing for an appointment with my cardiologist. The appointments feel more frequent than they used to, I guess that happens when your health is.. declining… to put it lightly.

“CHERRY! WE LEAVE IN FIVE, ARE YOU ALMOST DONE IN THERE?!” my mom yells banging on the bathroom door.

My mom is taking me this time. Whenever it is her turn, tensions are high. She's very anal about being on time. I look at the time on my phone, setting down my mascara to check.

7:30.

She's ridiculous, the appointment is at nine and we are minutes away from our new hospital.

“WHY ARE WE LEAVING SO FREAKING EARLY?” I yell back.

“CHERRY…” she almost growls. A sign to shut my mouth while I still have the opportunity. I finish my makeup, scrunch up my hair with a towel (so it dries nicely, curly hair is exhausting), and open the door. My mom is sitting on the bed adjacent to the door.

“Finally,” she says.

“We literally have an hour and a half,” I grumble.

“Mhmm,” she says. “I’ll be in the car. Don’t forget the room key on the way out,” she instructs. It feels as if the worse my condition gets, the more days that pass without a call, the more anxious my mom gets about the smallest things. It is how she copes I assume. I just wish she wouldn’t cope out loud to all of us.

I grab my sweats and go back into the bathroom. I change then rush out to the car. I close the door quietly on the way out, Winnie and my dad still get the bliss of sleeping this morning.

On the way down to the car in the hotel garage, I get a text.

Mom: I am sorry for being so snappy. That wasn’t fair of me. I’ll be waiting when you are ready. Love you.

I reply that it is okay and tell her I love her too, and that I am coming down now. I reach the car shortly after hitting send and my mom looks up when I open the door to the passenger seat. She reaches over and hugs me when I settle in. I hug back. We both don’t say anything. We don’t need to. After she starts the car and drives off, I connect my phone to the car and play a song we both love. My way of forgiving and forgetting. My mom turns to me as the song starts with a smile. We both break out singing along.

“This is my fight song! Take back my life song! Prove I’m alright sonnnnngggg.” We are both practically screaming as we go. This song is special to us. The day after my first heart surgery, when I refused to speak or crack any smile, my mom turned on the radio. Fight Song by Rachel Platten came blasting through the radio. I finally spoke. I finally smiled. This became MY fight song.

We pull up to the hospital after a couple more songs play, all by The Fray.

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