[14] White lies

In the warm glow of the dimly lit room, I found my mother sitting by the window, her silhouette framed by the remnants of a setting sun. The familiar hum of crickets and the distant mooing of cows signaled the end of another day on our farm.

"Mom," I started hesitantly, taking a deep breath, "I've found a job in the city."

She looked at me, her tired eyes lighting up with a mixture of surprise and relief. "Oh, Wang-Jian! That's wonderful news. Tell me all about it."

Choosing my words carefully, I replied, "It's a great opportunity, mom. The company is fairly new, but they're growing rapidly. They saw potential in me and are willing to train me, even with my limited education. And the pay, Mom... it's more than I could've hoped for."

She smiled, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "Oh, my son. I always knew you were destined for greatness. I'm so proud of you." She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently.

Holding back my own tears, I continued, "It's a fresh start for us. With the money, we can finally move to Kun-Ming. You'll have better healthcare, and I'll be closer to work."

She nodded, wiping away her tears, "That sounds lovely, dear. But, are you sure about this? The city is so different from our life here. I don't want you to get lost in its chaos."

"Don't worry, mom," I reassured her, my voice firm, even as guilt gnawed at me from the inside. "I promise, everything will be alright."

She smiled, leaning in to give me a tender hug. "I trust you, Wang-Jian."

I cleared my throat, my eyes darting around the room, avoiding her gaze for a moment. "Mom, I've thought it over, and I think it's best if I rent an apartment in the city for now. Just until I've settled into the job and can buy a more permanent place for both of us."

She looked at me, a little surprised, perhaps hoping that the transition from our farm life to the city would be seamless. "Renting? But you said with the new job, we could..."

"I know, mom," I interrupted gently, "But I think it's the sensible thing to do. To get a feel for the city, to find the best place for us. I want to be sure before we make such a big move."

She seemed to ponder my words for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright, if you think it's for the best."

Seeing her calm acceptance, I decided to broach the other topic that weighed on my mind. "And, mom... I've been thinking. It might be good for you to start the treatments at the city hospital. I can arrange everything. They have the best care there."

Her eyes widened slightly. "But won't that be expensive?"

I sighed, trying to keep my composure, "Ma, we have the money now. Your health is more important than anything. I want you to get the best treatment."

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. "Alright," she murmured, "If you believe it's for the best."

Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed it reassuringly. "Everything I'm doing, mom, is for us, for our future."

***

The city's hustle and bustle greeted us as the driver pulled up to the hospital's grand entrance. The building looked pristine with its white marble columns and glass facade, a stark contrast to our humble farmhouse.

As we walked into the lobby, my mother whispered to me, taking in the opulence, "Wang-Jian, are you sure about this? This place looks too fancy."

I nudged her playfully, "Ma, you deserve the best. Don't worry about it."

We made our way to the front desk, where a young lady with a pinned-up bun and glasses sat, typing away on her computer. "Good afternoon," I greeted, trying to sound as confident as I felt, "I'd like to admit my mother for treatment. We've scheduled an appointment."

The clerk looked up, scanning her screen for a moment, "Ah, yes, Mrs. Li. We have her down for the respiratory unit. Dr. Zhao will be attending to her."

My mother nodded, looking a little overwhelmed by the efficient, sterile environment. "How long will the treatment take?"

The clerk adjusted her glasses, "For the initial stages, it should be about a week. After that, we can reevaluate based on her progress."

Turning to my mother, I said, "Ma, once you're settled, I'll come visit you every day."

Her eyes misted over, but she gave me a weak smile, "Thank you, my son."

As she was being led away by a nurse, I approached the desk again, pulling out my card. "I'd like to take care of the initial payment now."

The clerk input some numbers and handed over a machine. As I keyed in the details, she said, "You're doing a good thing for your mother."

I nodded, trying to mask the torrent of emotions inside. "Thank you. I just want what's best for her."

Q: Would you tell white lies?