Sweet Tea: A Novel by Wendy Lynn Decker Page B

definitely sick. In her mind, that is. She’s on drugs, now. Drugs the doctor gave her to calm her down. No drugs were in her system when the doctor tested her blood. He believes she’s had a breakdown of sorts. She needs professional care.”
    The woman’s voice softened, but her eyes remained firm. “Your mama is refusing the care she needs, and we can’t keep her here. We need you need to sign this form.” She held the page out to CeCe. “If either of you are at least eighteen, you can sign for her.”
    CeCe’s eyes bore into me like she wanted me to tell her what to do. More than ever, I wanted Mama to get help; but the thought of CeCe signing those papers scared me to death. I’d seen movies where people signed papers like these and never saw their loved ones again.
    CeCe must have been having the same thoughts. “We’ve got to read them first,” she said.
    “That’s fine. You can bring them back when you’ve made a decision. I’ll be at the reception station.”
    The nurse walked out of the room, leaving us alone with Mama. But still, I couldn’t look at her. Instead, I kept my eyes on CeCe’s face. She closed her eyes for a minute, as if she might have been praying. It made me think of Daddy. I missed him something fierce. Daddy prayed before, during, and after everything. I closed my eyes and prayed too.
    “Come on,” CeCe said, and left the room. I followed her to the reception station, where the nurse stood talking to the clerk. CeCe walked up to her. “If I sign these papers, does it mean you can keep her here for good?”
              “Heavens no,” she answered. “We don’t have the . . . special facilities for someone in your mama’s condition. The doctor will determine where she should receive treatment. Does she have medical insurance?”
    “Yes,” CeCe said.
    She formed a check mark with her pen. “Do you have her medical card with you?”
    CeCe looked toward me. I shook my head no.
    “We need her insurance information or she’ll be billed,” the nurse said. “In the meantime, I need those papers signed as soon as possible.”
    “Why do I have to sign them?” CeCe asked the nurse suspiciously.
    “Your mama refused to sign anything.” She gave us a sympathetic nod. “It just states that you are responsible for payment if the insurance doesn’t pay.”
    CeCe gasped. “I can’t pay any hospital bills.”
    “If she has insurance, they will pay, don’t worry.” The nurse smiled reassuringly.
    Though I was not reassured, and I know CeCe wasn’t either.
    “In the meantime, we will continue to ask your mama to sign the papers to admit herself.” The nurse covered Mama’s feet with the blanket. “If she doesn’t, we’ll have to bring her medical status before the judge, and he’ll make the final decision.”
    “The judge! Why does the judge decide what becomes of my mama? She hasn’t done anything wrong,” I said.
    “It’s complicated,” the nurse replied. “Do you have an older family member?”
    CeCe and I both turned away, ashamed no one in our family was available to help us.
    “No, ma’am, it’s just us,” I said, turning back around.
    The nurse handed CeCe a pen. “Well, I suggest you read these papers and sign them so your mama can get the proper help.”
    There was a small table and chairs nearby. CeCe sat down and read the papers. She handed them to me. I glanced over them, but I didn’t have the mindset to comprehend all the words floating on the pages. “Just do what you think is best,” I said.
    “But what Mama’s insurance doesn’t pay, I’ll be responsible for payment!” CeCe’s eyes widened. “I can’t pay Mama’s medical bills,” CeCe said in a loud whisper.
    “Don’t worry. Her insurance will pay,” I reassured her. “They paid for your tonsillectomy. They paid for Luke’s broken ankle. And they paid for my root canal. They’ll pay.”
    CeCe held the pen near the signature line, about to sign, but