Tears kept swirling in her eyes, Iris covered her eyes, and amidst the peculiar gazes of the onlookers, she picked up the bank card from the ground and ran upstairs, all the way to the eighth floor where she finally stopped.
Her legs felt like they were injected with lead, making every step a struggle. She looked at the intensive care unit not far away. What should she do? How should she tell her mother that there was no more money for the treatment?
How could she gather the $600, 000 needed for the surgery? If they couldn’t afford the operation, what would her mother do? She hadn’t taken her to enjoy a day of happiness, nor had she taken her to see the pink sea.
Lorelei’s call felt like a slap in the face, much more painful than the two slaps from Elisa.
What goes around comes around. She had betrayed her friend and indirectly caused the loss of her loved one. Now, the consequences had finally caught up with her.
All the things she had done with a guilty conscience turned out to be self-inflicted humiliation.
Not only did she fail to obtain the money for her mother’s treatment, but she also lost Elisa, who had been the best to her.
As Dr. Lee emerged from his office, he noticed Iris standing in the corridor as if she had lost her soul.
“Miss Iris, has the surgery fee been paid?” inquired Dr. Lee.
Iris bit her lip and shook her head. “The money… the surgery money is gone… Dr. Lee, can you give me a few days to gather the surgery fee?”
“You said the surgery fee was already covered, didn’t you? How did it disappear?” Dr. Lee looked at Iris, who kept her head down and remained silent, guessing that something had gone wrong. However, he couldn’t press her for more information. Iris was a sensible and filial person; she had taken care of her mother day and night, and the doctors and nurses had seen it all.
If it had been a minor surgery costing a few thousand dollars, he could have helped her. But with a $600, 000 surgery fee, without the money, there was no hope.
The biggest illness nowadays is poverty.
Dr. Lee patted her shoulder. “You have one week at most.”
Iris didn’t know how to face her mother. Not only was there no money for the surgery, but the daughter she had always trusted had also lied to her and done unforgivable things.
Dr. Lee sighed inwardly, shook his head, and left Iris alone in the corridor. She leaned against the cold wall. Even though the indoor temperature was 27 degrees, she felt cold. Iris clutched her arms tightly and cried quietly for a long time. Her eyes were swollen like two walnuts, and her legs had gone numb. She pushed herself away from the wall and slowly made her way to the restroom, where she washed her face and looked at herself in the mirror.
Without her glasses, everything was blurry, and now it was so blurry that she couldn’t even see her own face clearly.
No amount of cold water on her face could hide her reddened eyes; it was clear that she had been crying.
Iris didn’t want her mother to worry, so she quickly tidied herself up and returned to the ward.
Mrs. Hope was already receiving her second bag of IV fluids. There was a TV in the ward, but she didn’t like watching it. She only allowed Iris to turn it on when she was there. When she had nothing to do, she either slept or stared outside, absentminded. Only in absentmindedness could she briefly forget the pain. Even when she couldn’t bear it, she had to endure it because she had a daughter, and she didn’t want her daughter to be restless and fearful because of her illness.
The windows were tightly closed, but Mrs. Hope looked outside and turned her head when she heard movement.
“Iris, autumn is here.”
Iris paused, listening to the voice and turning her gaze to the window. The osmanthus flowers were in bloom outside, but with the windows sealed shut, she couldn’t smell anything.
“Mom, in previous years, we made osmanthus cake together. Do you want to eat it this year? I’ll make it for you when you’re done with your surgery, okay?”
“Of course, but I won’t be able to drink osmanthus wine anymore.” Every year when the osmanthus bloomed, Mrs. Hope would make osmanthus wine to sell, and the whole house would be filled with its fragrance.
There was a decades-old osmanthus tree in the yard. In the summer, they would enjoy its shade, and in the autumn, they would pick its flowers. Iris often climbed the tree and shook the branches while her mother held a basket below, cautioning her to be careful.
Seemingly reminiscing, Mrs. Hope couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “When you were young, you were like a little monkey, always climbing trees fearlessly. Every time you climbed, I worried you might fall. If you had fallen when you were young, I could have caught you. But now that you’re grown up, I wouldn’t be able to catch you.”
Iris struggled to suppress her heartache, feeling a deep pain in her chest. She pressed her hand on her leg, trying to control the trembling of her shoulders.
“Iris?” Mrs. Hope’s voice was gentle. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m just really scared. Scared that something will happen to you, and I won’t be able to taste the osmanthus cake you make anymore.”
“Silly child, the osmanthus cake will always taste the same, and besides, I’ve taught you how to make it. I won’t always be able to be with you. Someday, you’ll have to learn to make osmanthus cake on your own.”
“Mom, the surgery has been postponed for a week,” Iris said.
“Was it Dr. Lee who said that?”
“Yes.”
Iris had a habit when lying, she would lower her head, avoid eye contact, and speak softly.
Mrs. Hope’s expression flickered for a moment, but she didn’t press Iris for more information. “It’s okay, the surgery being postponed is fine. It gives me some buffer time. Actually, I don’t feel like my condition is very serious. I don’t really need the surgery to replace my kidney; it’s too expensive, and it would take a long time to pay off the debt.”
“Mom, you don’t need to worry about the money. I will find a way,” Iris assured her.
Iris needed to find a way to gather the money. She couldn’t always be with Mrs. Hope. She hired a caregiver and lied to Mrs. Hope, saying she had to go to work.
After leaving the hospital, Iris called everyone in her contacts list-classmates, friends, colleagues, relatives, neighbors-asking for money.
As she scrolled through the list, she skipped over Elisa’s name and moved on to the next one. When she had chosen to “betray” Elisa, she hadn’t expected to be forgiven. It was only natural for others to resent her for doing wrong.
Just 20 years old, Iris had made a wrong decision, and her life had plunged into darkness. Many people hung up on her as soon as they heard her calling to borrow money.
Iris went from the north of the city to the south, visiting every household to borrow money, holding Mrs. Hope’s diagnosis in her hand and pleading with a low and humble voice, nearly kneeling down.
It’s easy to add to the joy, but it’s difficult to help in times of trouble. The $600, 000 for the surgery was not something she could easily borrow. She didn’t even qualify for a loan from a bank.
In just two days, she had lost a lot of weight. Iris even considered selling her kidney on the black market, but she didn’t know how to find a way. Most of the online ads were likely scams that would lead to danger.
So, she tentatively asked Dr. Lee, “Dr. Lee, do you happen to know any patients who need a kidney transplant? I could be a match…”
Dr. Lee’s face turned pale, and he stood up to question her, “Are you thinking of selling your kidney?”
“Dr. Lee, I know you’re in a difficult position, but I don’t have any money. I need to save my mother. I can’t gather enough money for the surgery fee. I’ve asked everyone I know, but I’ve only managed to gather fifty thousand. It’s far from the sixty thousand needed.”
“Please help me. I beg you to help me,” Iris choked, crying uncontrollably. Her legs, which had carried her all over Bankshire, finally gave way, and she knelt on the ground.
She was willing to give up everything-her pride, her humanity, her integrity, and her kindness. She only wanted her mother.
“Iris.”
As Iris knelt, her figure stiffened. Her heart felt like a taut string connecting to her brain, giving her a dull pain. She slowly turned around, her mother smiling at her from the doorway.
“Iris, let’s go home. Mom won’t be seeking treatment anymore.”
Mrs. Hope had changed into her own clothes. Last night, she had received a call from a neighbor, informing her about Iris going door to door, asking for money for her treatment.
Upon hearing this, she resisted the urge to call Iris and silently packed her belongings, arranging for her discharge with the help of the caregiver. There was no need for medications anymore.
The doctors and nurses advised her not to leave the hospital, but she didn’t listen.
Mrs. Hope just smiled gently and said, “I can’t let my daughter lose her future because of my treatment.”
With a surgery cost of six to seven hundred thousand dollars, for people like them, it would almost certainly shatter their future. She didn’t want her daughter to lose her spirit, carrying debt for the rest of her life. Mrs. Hope walked slowly, each step steady. She reached Iris, first caressed her head, then, enduring the pain, she bent down and took Iris’s hand, pulling her up.
“Let’s go home and make osmanthus cake,” she said.
Iris followed behind Mrs. Hope, watching her mother’s figure. Her hand was no longer as warm as it used to be, but holding hers, it still provided so much strength, always there for her in her most helpless moments.
Her mother’s hands, once cradling her to sleep, holding her as she learned to walk, carrying her when she was sick, wiping her tears when she was upset…
Iris involuntarily tightened her grip on Mrs. Hope’s hand. When they reached the hospital’s entrance, she suddenly came to her senses and stopped, her hand reaching out but not moving.
“Mom, you can’t leave the hospital. You need treatment,” she said.
Mrs. Hope turned to look at Iris. In a mother’s eyes, a child never grows up, always the same little kid. She reached out and embraced Iris. “Iris, I know my body. Whether I get treatment or not doesn’t matter. Do you remember what I told you a couple of days ago? A person may be poor, but lack of ambition is the real poverty. I don’t know how you managed to gather the money for the surgery fee, or why the money disappeared. Everyone has their own fate. If that money was acquired through improper means, I’d rather not have the treatment.”
Her eyes, already cried dry, suddenly burst with tears. She closed her eyes and leaned into her mother’s frail embrace, crying quietly.
The hospital was a place of life and death. Many people came here for treatment, and a mix of sorrow and joy had become the norm. Passersby glanced at the crying but quickly averted their gaze.
Crying was useless, but it was the easiest form of release.
Mrs. Hope’s heart ached. She stroked Iris’s hair. “Life only lasts a few decades. I don’t want you to do something irreparable and feel guilty for the rest of your life.”
She could see Iris’s pain and blamed herself for not noticing earlier. “In a mother’s eyes, you are the best. Iris will always be the most beloved to her mother.”
“Mom, I just want to save you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I haven’t given you a good life,” Iris lamented.
“I’m still alive, aren’t I? As long as there’s life, there’s hope. Today passes, and tomorrow is a new day. As long as you’re with me, I’ll always look forward to the sun of tomorrow. Let’s go, it’s time to make osmanthus cake at home.”
…
Due to chemotherapy, Mrs. Hope had shaved her head and stood out in the crowd. After decades of hardships, which woman doesn’t love beauty? She touched her head and, passing by a store, she saw a beautiful hat inside. She didn’t recognize the brand, but she could tell it was expensive from the interior decor.
“Mom,” Iris saw Mrs. Hope gazing inside, “Do you want that hat?”
“What nonsense are you talking? It’s too flashy. It wouldn’t look good on me. Let’s go back and I’ll wear the hat you knitted for me.”
The mother and daughter returned to the countryside by car. Mrs. Hope instructed Iris to return the borrowed money and express gratitude to those who had helped.
Her illness was incurable. The hospital had prescribed many medications, a variety of colors, and a large number, a frightening sight.
Mrs. Hope looked at the osmanthus tree in the yard, full of flowers. She called Iris and they shook the osmanthus flowers, just as they had done in previous years, to make osmanthus cake and brew osmanthus wine.
Mrs. Hope was busy in the kitchen, and Iris helped by her side.
“Do you know how to make osmanthus cake? If not, let me teach you again,” Mrs. Hope said.
“I feel like I’ll never learn it in my lifetime.”
“You’re not that foolish.”
Iris looked at her mother’s gentle profile illuminated by the light. “Mom, if you hadn’t given birth to me back then, you should be very happy now, right? I’m nothing but a burden to you. If it weren’t for me, maybe you would have built a new family and had the money for treatment.”
Mrs. Hope paused, looked up, and earnestly greplied, “The greatest happiness in my life is having you. Don’t underestimate yourself. In a mother’s eyes, nothing is more important than you.”