by K T Brodland
Chapter Thirty-Seven
O livia grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then headed out to the porch. She flopped down into the nearest chair and fanned her face with her straw hat, grateful for the respite after spending the morning putting in the second batch of potatoes and the mid-season tomatoes. She still had time for a shower and a quick bite to eat before heading to the office. She took a hefty swallow of water, then put her head back against the top of the chair and closed her eyes.
Almost immediately she was transported back to the previous evening and the hug Cat had given her before they closed up shop for the night. She couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had held her like that, all warm and comforting. She could still smell Cat’s clean, crisp scent. Whatever cologne she was wearing, she liked it. A bonus had come when she discovered her cheek fit quite nicely in the valley between Cat’s breasts. She sighed and fanned her face again as heat of another kind warmed her from the inside out. She gave a shake, bringing herself back to the present.
She still wasn’t sure what to make of Cat’s seeming acceptance of her admission she was the Ghost. Much as she trusted Cat, she hadn’t realized until now just how much that had become a two-way street. Especially since Cat had made it quite clear she still wanted her to work with her. She could certainly see the possibilities that might present themselves if she was a licensed investigator. She chuckled, thinking of the number of forensic shows where at least one person had remarkable hacking skills.
The Ghost hadn’t retired yet, probably never would. Getting her license would give her just one more weapon to use in her war against the monsters who roamed the mean streets of many big cities. She nodded, set her mouth in a tight line of determination, then headed inside. She could hardly wait to tell Cat her news.
“Guess what?” Olivia announced, as soon as she waltzed into Cat’s office.
Cat looked up from the file she was working on. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s happened?’
Olivia plunked down in the guest chair. “I have good news.”
“What did you do? Win the lottery?”
Olivia took in a deep breath. “It’s not so much news as a question. How do I go about applying for my private investigator’s license? I suppose I could find out simply by going online, but I wanted to discuss it with you, since you’ve been there, done that.”
“Well, it’s been a few years since I went down that road, but I don’t imagine all that much has changed since I applied.” She pushed the files she’d been working on to one side, leaned her forearms on the desk. “First off, of course, there is a form online you can download to begin the process. You will be required to undergo an RCMP background check and possibly be fingerprinted. Jean already has your fingerprints on file, but headquarters may want their own done. Once they have determined you have no criminal record for the past ten years, you will be sent a letter letting you know. That usually takes three or four days, depending on how busy they are. Then comes the fun part. There are two courses you can take. The justice institute has a certificate program. That is the one I would recommend. The other one is provided by the Focus Training Institute. Once you have completed those courses, you will need to be hired by a licensed private investigator who can apply for the BC. Ministry Public Security License. From there you have to put in twenty-four hundred hours before you are eligible to be licensed on your own.”
Cat grinned.
“Oh, is that all?” Olivia remarked.
“Yeah, that’s all.”
Olivia swallowed hard. “Okay, well, I guess I’d better get started.”
“Yes, you certainly had.”
“There’s something else I have to do first. Something I’ve been putting off for far too long.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“ I don’t think I can do this.” Olivia wrapped her arms tightly across her chest and stared with unseeing eyes at the bent figure of an elderly man working in the allotment garden a few yards from where she and Cat were parked.
Cat wordlessly placed a comforting hand on Olivia’s arm. They’d been trying for two days to reach Elsa Lundgren on the phone without success. Finally, it was decided they would drive to the senior village anyway and take their chances. Now, they sat in the parking lot, the September sun warming the Mustang’s interior. Even so, Olivia felt chilled to the bone, as if she would never be warm again.
A woman in a dark brown pantsuit approaching the Mustang caught her eye. Cat rolled down her window as the woman neared the driver’s side. “May I help you folks?” the woman said. “I saw you pull in a few minutes ago and didn’t recognize the car.”
“We’re here to check on Elsa Lundgren. We’ve been trying to reach her for several days,” Cat said.
“Oh, dear. Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but Elsa was rushed to the hospital three days ago after she suffered a major heart attack. I wish I had better news for you but the hospital is saying she might not make it.”
Cat shot her eyes sideway at the audible gasp from Olivia’s side of the front seat. “Thanks. Do you happen to know what ward Elsa is on?”
“Yes, she’s in the ICU on the second floor. I…I saw her for a few minutes last night.” The woman shook her head. “Are you family?”
Cat gestured in Olivia’s direction. “Olivia is her daughter.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve known Elsa for as long as she lived here and I can’t recall her ever mentioning a daughter. I do hope you manage to see her for a little while before she passes on.”
Cat nodded her thanks, then waited until the woman had moved away before turning to Olivia. “Do you want to see her? It’s okay if you don’t.”
Olivia slowly shook her head back and forth. “I don’t know what I want to do. Part of me says head back home as fast as I can, and another part says this will be the only chance I will ever have to confront this shadow from my past and put it to rest once and for all.”
“I understand. It’s your call.”
Olivia loosed a long slow breath, drummed her fingers on the arm of the door. Unbidden tears stung the back of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand, sniffed loudly. “Okay, let’s get this done.”
The ICU was quiet compared to the rest of the Logan’s Landing Medical Center. Olivia felt as though she should take off her shoes before entering this area of muted sounds where patients hung in a delicate balance between life and death. She approached the nurse’s station and after identifying herself was directed to a glassed-in cubicle across from where she stood. She glanced up at Cat. “I think I had best go in alone.”
The nurse overheard her and replied. “That’s a good idea. Elsa is fragile at the moment so please don’t stay long.”
Olivia clutched at Cat’s arm, forced herself to slow her breathing. Cat reassured her with a calming touch on her shoulder. “I’ll be right here when you come out.”
“Thanks.”
Olivia braced for what lay ahead and took several halting steps forward. She paused, then straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and continued on her way. From the waiting room doorway, Cat watched the subtle shift in Olivia’s posture, the I am woman, hear me roar stance. She mentally applauded her friend and wished her all the best.
Inside the cubicle, Olivia ignored the monitor mounted on the wall, beeping softly away to itself, and the IV pole, her attention focused on the frail looking woman lying motionless under the white blanket that covered her thin body. She took a step forward, then another. By the time she reached the edge of the bed she was having a hard time hanging onto her self-control. Just an arms-length away was the woman she had hated for so many years, who she refused even now to call mother, mom, or mommy as she had as a child. Those days were long gone. She took another step forward. Now she could make out the bluish tinge to fingernails and lips. Unless she was mistaken, Elsa Lundgren would soon be making the acquaintance of the God she had spent so many hours on her knees, praying for Him to save her daughter’s imm
ortal soul while her husband did his best to beat the devil out of his wayward child.
Olivia drew in a deep breath, surprised that she was even wondering about the life Elsa must have had. What must her life have been like after the death of her lord and master and then, later, her son?
She looked down at the bony hand lying limp on the blanket, blue veins showing through the parchment thin skin, the back of the hand liberally speckled with pale brown liver spots. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and took Elsa’s hand, warming the cold flesh with her own.
Elsa’s eyes opened and she looked up at the slender figure standing close by her bedside. She slowly closed her eyes, then opened them again, trying to make out who was there, holding her hand. The face of the woman seemed familiar, as if she should know her. She tried twice to speak, to ask who her visitor was. It seemed like such an effort though. Her lips moved but no sound emerged.
Then her visitor spoke. “It’s all right, Elsa. Don’t try to speak. The letter you sent me said it all. I’m just glad I was able to see you one final time.”
A door in her memory opened and Elsa gasped. “Molly.”
“Not any more. She died a long time ago.”
Elsa’s head wobbled on her neck as she tried to lift up. She failed and lay back down on the bed, what little energy she had left slipping away.
“I’m glad you came. Thank you,” she whispered.
Olivia remained where she was for a while longer, holding Elsa’s hand, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest until there was one final exhalation and then Elsa’s hand slipped from her own. Oblivious to the rivulet of tears flowing down her cheeks, Olivia stood there a while longer before turning and making her way to the nursing station. She gestured blindly in the direction of the cubicle behind her. “She’s gone.”
“Yes, we know, dear. We were watching the monitor readings from here but decided to give you a few more minutes with your mother.” The charge nurse handed Olivia a box of tissues. “I think you could use some of these, dear. And we are so sorry for your loss.”
Olivia’s mumbled thanks were lost as she wiped away the tears coursing down her cheeks. She sensed movement nearby and turned directly into Cat’s arms. She clung to Cat’s body, drawing strength and comfort from her. Cat slipped an arm around her waist, led her out to the Mustang and helped her into the passenger seat. She moved around to the driver’s side and they sat in silence for a time while she waited for Olivia to collect herself. She found a bottle of water in a pocket in the driver’s door and handed it across to Olivia. Olivia took the bottle with mumbled gratitude, then took a sip and then another. She finally exhaled and handed the bottle back to Cat.
She exhaled again, slowly. “I guess the first order of business would be talking to whoever is in charge at the senior’s village and finding out what arrangements, if any, have been made for a funeral for Elsa.”
Cat nodded agreement. “I already have the name of the woman we need to speak to. The charge nurse had a contact number and she kindly gave it to me.”
“Thank goodness at least one of us is still functioning on all thrusters.”
“Now, do we want to get a hotel room and stay here until after the funeral?”
Olivia shook her head. “No. We’re only an hour away, and the funeral won’t be for another couple of days. We can easily drive back for it. Besides, I don’t have a change of clothes with me, and nothing of yours will fit me.”
“No, I suppose not. All right. We can head home whenever you’re ready.”
“Now would be good.”
The director of the council in charge of such matters had the details all worked out by the time Olivia got in touch with her the following morning. The funeral would be held in Forest View Memorial Hall on Thursday of that week. A reception would be held in the hall afterward. Olivia thanked the woman for her assistance, then headed out into bright sunshine that somehow served to only darken her mood. She still had chores to take care of.
It was the same on the actual day of the funeral. Sunshine, temperatures in the upper-eighties and not even a breeze to stir the branches of the pine trees that shaded the burial site. As far as Olivia was concerned, the only good thing about the funeral was the fact that it was mercifully brief. At the end, before the cemetery staff could lower the coffin into the grave, she moved forward and placed a white rose on the lid of the coffin. She stepped back beside Cat, nodded politely to the few mourners gathered to say goodbye to their friend and neighbor.
Afterward, clinging to Cat’s hand, she walked back to the Mustang, its bright red color standing out in stark contrast to the solemn dark vehicles in the parking lot. She breathed a sigh of relief that Elsa had made arrangements in advance with the council to dispose of her belongings as they saw fit. Once less reason to hang around in Logan’s Landing.
“Do you want to stay for the reception?”
“No, I just want to go home.”
Olivia retreated into silence on the drive back. Cat glanced her way once in a while, but didn’t intrude on whatever space Olivia was in. When they finally arrived back at the farm, they waved at Pat and Tracy, who were busy moving some of their belongings into their new home but made no effort to go and join them on their porch. Olivia stood in the middle of the kitchen, her hands braced on the back of a chair. Cat poured them each a glass of wine and suggested they sit out on the porch.
After a time, when Olivia still seemed disinclined to talk to her, Cat spoke. “Should I leave, give you some space?”
Olivia’s throat worked and she finally managed to speak. “It’s okay, Cat. I’ve been sitting here thinking about the way I’ve hated that woman for so many years. I think I hated her almost as much as my dad for the way she sat back and did nothing to protect me from his abuse. After reading the letter she enclosed for me, I’ve come to the conclusion she was, in some ways, as much a victim as I was. And my poor brother, guilt-ridden about what he mistakenly thought he did in letting me take the blame for his father’s death. When I saw my mother lying there in that hospital bed, looking so frail, and then to watch her life slipping away as I held her hand, the past slipped away with her. For the first time in more than thirty years, I feel free of its weight. I think I can finally move on.”
She smiled, tapped the rim of her glass against Cat’s. “Here’s to leaving the past behind.”
Cat grinned and raised her glass in a salute. “And here’s to draining swamps and killing alligators!”
“Amen!”
About the Author
KT Brodland is an 81 year-old retiree living in Langley, British Columbia with her wife and their eleven year old rescue mini-poodle. She describes herself as a ‘jack-of-all-trades and master of none.’ Over the years she has worked as an a office clerk, nurse’s aide, health care worker. In between careers she wrote several sci-fi novels and short stories, none of which she attempted to publish. It wasn’t until her wife read the first draft of a new novel six years ago and introduced her to lesfic that she felt brave enough to consider throwing her hat in the ring and seeing if she was good enough to be published.
In 2016 Ylva published a short story, An Orphan’s Christmas, in their anthology, Looking for Ms. Write.
