Karen held out the freshly made juice drink to Jenny, who dutifully gulped it down. Jenny grinned. "I can't taste it." and began coughing again, drinking some hot tea on her nightstand.
She may have made her mistakes, but Karen was determined to do right by her daughter as much as possible, for the rest of their lives. When she'd gotten the text cancelling their weekly lunch, she'd leapt into action, packing her juicer, visiting the health food store, and making a final stop at the farmer's market on her way over.
Jenny'd protested weakly, but let her in and gone back to bed. Karen had quickly whipped up an immune stimulating tea (she was a certified herbalist, aromatherapist, and massage therapist) and detoxifying juice drink.
Rather than nag Jenny about her medication, Karen had taken a quick peek at the pill organizer. Good girl. She passed the overflowing sink and placed a moistened hand towel in the microwave. Poor Jen had the worst sinus congestion. She dabbed the appropriate oils, refolded it, and placed it on Jenny's forehead.
Jenny murmured her thanks and thought, ironically, how she'd wished for a mom like this in years past. Who knew her own mother would turn out to be the one she'd wanted? She drifted off to sleep, the soothing aromas of the oils unclenching the tightness in her head.
Karen got to work. She did a load of laundry, cleaned the litterboxes and bathroom as best she could, did the dishes, and cleaned the obvious out of the fridge. She replaced the expired, discarded food with fresh organic options she knew Jenny liked.
When she finished, Karen sat down on the couch, catching her reflection in the front hall mirror. "One day I left the house with my shirt inside out" Jenny had confided. "I need to to a last check". Her somber brown eyes gazed back. Her face showed her age, due to the years of heavy smoking. Karen found it ironic she'd never really had any health problems, besides the drinking and bipolar disorder. Her plump figure reflected a love of her own baked goods, but her husband was fine with that. She was a lot shorter than Jenny, whose 5'8 must have been a gift from her father.
The cat door clicked and Princess wandered in, headed over to Karen. Karen held her breath. She'd always worried her daughter's cat would hate her. Princess adored Jenny, and had avoided Karen for as long as she could remember.
Could she ever atone for her sins? She knew Jesus' sacrifice had covered them, but she had such a terrible time forgiving herself. Karen offered a shaking hand (a side effect of the lithium) to the cat, who butted up against it and demanded petting. She stroked the cat gently.
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