Free Some Kind of Normal by Heidi Willis Page A

scared. "I
hope not, baby."
    "I have to pee."
    I help her out of bed. She's still shaky in the
knees, so I let her lean on me. She drags the IV behind her and
shuts me out when she can lean on the sink, instead. I do motherly
things, like fluffing her pillows and opening the blinds and
pouring the now-lukewarm water from the pitcher on the table into
the flowers. When she comes out she waves me off and makes a bold
but slow stride towards the bed.
    "You want to play a game? Pastor Joel brought a few
board games, in case you're bored. Get it? Board games for the
bored."
    "Ha ha!" She grins, though, so I pull the tray table
over as she raises the back of the bed so she's sitting upright.
Her eyes are more alert and her face looks newly scrubbed, and I
think how hard this must be for her at this age to not be taking
care of her looks. We've only recently allowed rouge, and the
teensiest bit of mascara and lip-gloss, but she already fits into
them like a glove.
    I rub my hands together fiendishly, the way I do
every time we play a board game, and cackle like a witch. "Okay my
pretty, what is your poison today?"
    "Apparently it's food." She says this with a broad
smile, as though finally she has found the perfect comeback at the
perfect time, but it wipes the grin straight off me.
    "Don't say that, Ash."
    "Why? Gosh, Mom, do I have to feel terminal all the
time? If I can't joke about it, I'm going to have a really
depressing life."
    Because it's true, I think.
    She gives me a goofy face, mouth twisted and eyebrows
arched, her tongue lolling out.
    I force a smile. "Okay, then, Miss Cheerful. What'll
it be?"
    She looks through the games and picks Monopoly, which
promises a good, long diversion. She is the banker, because I can't
do math in my head fast enough, and I line the properties up by
rainbow color order rather than board order along the foot of the
bed.
    She picks the shoe. She always picks the shoe. I sort
through the rest, less certain. I hate the water so the ship is
out. I'm allergic to dogs, and horses scare the bejeebers out of
me. The use of the thimble is beyond me. I choose the hat. I put it
on my head the way I did when Ashley was young. It still makes her
laugh. I'd give all the monopoly money in the world, and all the
change in my own account, to hear that every day.
    She charges around the board buying up every property
she lands on until she's near broke. I only buy the bigger payoffs.
She never lands on them, but I'm forking over two's and five's like
nobody's business.
    About six turns around the board Logan sticks his
head in the door. He looks unhappy, which ain't unusual, and nods
down the hall. "The church people want to know if everything's all
right." This is code for they want to know what's going on. Ashley
scrunches her face because she knows the code, too.
    "Don't tell them all of it, Mom."
    "All of what?"
    "You know, the personal stuff." Suddenly she's the
self-conscious twelve year-old.
    "I'll only tell them about the throwing up and the
dragging the IV to the bathroom with your gown flying open in the
back. How's that sound?"
    She sticks out her tongue at me, and it means
something faraway different than when Logan does it.
    "Can you do the go round for me," I ask him, nodding
at the game.
    He shrugs but, God love him, he don't roll his eyes.
I kiss Ashley's head, and Logan takes my place in the chair, sizing
up the board and his loot with an expressionless face.
    In the hall down by the nursing station the ladies
are sitting in the waiting room. I can't tell if they're praying or
gossiping. Probably a little of both. I don't see Pastor Joel.
    Brenda seizes on me. "Is everything all right?"
    I stare because I can't believe the words coming out
her mouth.
    "No, Brenda, they're not all right." Janise steps in
and puts her arm around me, more to keep me from lunging than to
comfort me. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why
these women bug the heck out of me so much.
    "We know this is