Lady Rosamund was quick to move away from them to meet other guests, laughing and talking to them. Lunch was indeed delicious, but Calhoun lacked the appetite to eat.
At the long table, Lady Christine was seated at the end, and it wasn’t hard to guess that the seating had been arranged in such a way where people who were more liked by the lady of the house were made to sit near her.
“Lady Christine, may I ask you for a favour?” Calhoun asked in a low tone, making use of the distance that was created by the seating arrangement where no one could hear him.
The woman looked up from her plate, “Do you need salt?” she asked.
“No. Milady, I was wondering if you could help me in meeting the physician Lady Rosamund recommended. The personal physician,” Calhoun asked the lady.
“I can do that,” she nodded her head in agreement.
“Thank you,” he bowed his head. The last time he had tried to meet the main physician, he had only succeeded in meeting with the physician’s assistant.
When the soiree came to an end, Lady Christine being true to her word, she collected the recommendation letter from Lady Rosamund regarding the meeting with the royal family’s physician.
Calhoun dropped the lady at her house in her carriage, and he was given two gold coins for his service along with the letter she had earlier collected. An amount he had never seen. With the letter in his hand, Calhoun made use of it, to go meet the physician to get the medicines which he was successful at this time.
When Calhoun reached near his house with the medicines in his hands that he had bought using the gold coins from what he had been paid, he hoped that this time it would work on his mother. It had been weeks since his mother had fallen sick and every day her condition only worsened, her body turning fragile because of the amount of blood that she threw up. He had never seen anyone fall sick this way, making it difficult for not only him but also the physicians to decipher what was wrong with his mother.
Calhoun stepped into the house, announcing to his mother, “Mother I am home!” Even though his mother was sick, he didn’t want her to feel neglected, and he hoped she would get better if he continued to behave as if nothing was wrong with her. Not receiving an answer, something he was getting used to, he placed the medicines at the side and started heating the water so that his mother could have the medicine with it.
He was still pouring water in the glass when he heard his mother choking in the other room. He quickly rushed to her side and saw her body twist in the bed.
“Mother!” exclaimed Calhoun. He quickly went to her side, patting her back to ease her pain but his mother had started to throw up blood again. The blood that came out from her mouth and spilt on the bed was too much.
Constance’s body twitched and she looked like she wasn’t herself anymore, with her hands that had twisted, and her eyes looking lost while staring at the ceiling.
“It’s going to be okay,” Calhoun whispered to her, placing his hand on her back and he felt the bones in her body. It squeezed his heart to see her in this state. She didn’t deserve this! He tried to make her feel better, but the blood continued to spill out. The sheet that was spread on the bed had soaked itself in blood and for a moment Constance’s hand moved towards Calhoun and he grabbed it with his hands.
“Cal,” came the feeble voice of his mother, through the spluttering sound.
Calhoun held his mother’s hand with both his hands, giving all his attention to her. He shook his head, “It’s okay. You don’t need to speak, I brought you the medicine,” and he was ready to get up but Constance whispered,
“No…”
A tear trickled down from the corner of her eye, sliding down her pale skin where it looked alive compared to the other part of her skin before it seeped into the hard pillow. The grip of her hand on her son was weak, and she tried hard to breathe, exhaling and inhaling in great difficulty.
“You and I both know that…it won’t work,” she said, trying to focus her eyes on Calhoun, who quietly sat next to her, listening intently to what she wanted to say.
Calhoun’s jaw clenched and unclenched, “We cannot be sure unless we try it. The last medicine’s failed, but this one might work.”
Constance flinched in pain as she felt like millions of needles were passing through from her skin and into her chest. She shook her head, “This is something far worse than any person would have gone through in the past, and no one knows what this sickness is. Stay here instead, Cal. Please,” she added, noticing the reluctance in his eyes. “I have lived, more than I expected, and everything comes to an end.”
Calhoun closed his eyes, shaking his own head before he opened his eyes, his eyes glistening, “Don’t say that. We are in this together, aren’t we?”
His mother offered him a smile, “Yes, we are,” and Calhoun brought her hand up towards his face, and he kissed her hand.
“Then don’t leave…” he whispered.
Constance used all her energy to place her hand on her son’s cheek, her hand trembled because of the weakness and lack of strength in her body. “Like everything in this world, one day we leave this place. My body is no more the way it was, Cal. I can barely get out of bed, less speak this much. My son,” there was a tenderness in the way she used the words at Calhoun, “You were the precious gift, something that filled every space in my heart and in my world. The best thing that happened to me, so don’t be sad about my condition.”
