by Gayle Leeson
“She’d apparently gone outside and taken a walk,” said Mom.
“Do you have any idea what she’s thinking?”
She sighed. “I wish I did. I’ve tried to talk with her, and she’ll only say she’s on vacation. My guess is that she’s lost her job and has nowhere else to go.”
“Do you think Aunt Renee is on drugs?” She didn’t answer right away, and I hurried to fill the silence. “Not that I do, but I’m not sure. I mean, I was talking about her to Ryan and he mentioned that people as unhappy as she is are often on drugs. And she was so wasted at the dance last night that—”
“I do,” she interrupted quietly. “I think she’s addicted to both alcohol and drugs. I’ve thought so for years—ever since she had that horseback riding accident and the doctor put her on pain relievers for her neck. She changed after that. But I haven’t said anything because I figured . . . what good would it do?”
This time it was me who was quiet.
“But I should’ve, you know . . . said something . . . done something.” She put Princess Eloise up onto her shoulder and buried her face in the cat’s fur.
“Mom, there’s nothing you could do. Aunt Renee is a grown woman. And Jackie said Aunt Bess defended her all the way home last night.” I patted her shoulder. “Had you tried to intervene, all you’d have done is make both Aunt Renee and Aunt Bess angry.”
“Still, there comes a time when you have to take that risk to protect the people you love,” she said. “Like Jackie and Aunt Bess. Renee can’t keep treating them the way she does. After Aunt Bess goes to bed tonight, I’m going to have a long talk with Renee.”
“What’re you going to say?”
“I’m hoping to make her see what her behavior is doing to her mother and her daughter. If I can’t talk some sense into her . . .” Her voice trailed off as she returned the cat to her lap.
“Then what?” I’d gone completely still, and I noticed that Rory had done the same.
“Then I’m kicking her out of my house.” She met my gaze. “Her options are to agree to go to rehab or to pack up and leave tonight.”
• • •
I knew Aunt Bess typically went to bed at ten o’clock. I stood at my back door and looked toward the big house at ten fifteen. There were still lights on. Mom didn’t go to bed until midnight—sometimes later—and I wondered if I should go support her while she talked with Aunt Renee. She hadn’t told me she wanted me there, and I rather got the impression that she didn’t, but she hadn’t told me not to come.
I went out the back door and started up the hill. I needed to be there. What if Aunt Renee started yelling and woke up Aunt Bess? The poor thing didn’t need to be caught in the middle of another of Aunt Renee’s tirades.
And I knew Mom was doing the right thing. Nana had left the house to Mom. Neither she, Aunt Bess, nor Jackie needed their lives turned upside down simply because Aunt Renee decided to come to Winter Garden to crash for a while. Aunt Renee needed to grow up some and get a sense of responsibility. For goodness’ sake, she’d seesawed in and out of Aunt Bess’s and Jackie’s lives for ten years now. Enough was enough.
I’d barely crossed the backyard when I realized I’d forgotten my flashlight. I hurried back to the house and got it. As I stepped outside again, a car roared past.
I turned on the flashlight and began my trek up the hill. I felt sure it had been Aunt Renee in that car and that Mom’s talk with her hadn’t gone very well. Oh, well, at least now she was gone. Aunt Bess and Jackie could stop waiting for the other shoe to drop . . . at least, until Aunt Renee breezed back into town again.
I opened the kitchen door and caught my breath for a second before going in search of Mom. The logical place to start was the living room, but she wasn’t there. The television was off, but the reading lamp was on by Mom’s favorite chair.
Had she gone on to bed?
I went upstairs to her room but it, too, was empty. The bed was still made and it didn’t look as if Mom had been getting ready for bed.
I walked down the hall toward the guest room. Maybe Mom had taken it harder than she’d expected when Aunt Renee left rather than agreeing to seek help. I imagined her sitting on the edge of the bed sobbing over the mess her cousin had made of her life.
I eased the door open. “Mom?”
I gasped as I saw her lying on the floor. “Mom!” I rushed to her side and rolled her over to face me. Her head was bleeding.
I took my cell phone from my pocket and called 9-1-1. Once I was assured there was an ambulance on the way, I hurried to the bathroom and got a cool cloth to bathe Mom’s face.
She groaned.
“Mom?”
“Amy.” Her voice was weak.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’ll . . . be . . . fine. Where’s . . . Aunt Bess?”
“I guess she’s in bed asleep,” I said.
“M-make sure.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“Go . . . please.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back.”
I hurried to Aunt Bess’s room. She was gone.
Chapter 8
I rushed back to Mom’s side. She was still lying on the floor just as I’d left her. The paleness of her skin was intensified by the redness of the blood trickling down her forehead.
“Is . . . she . . . okay?” she asked, struggling to sit up.
“Just stay there,” I instructed, gently placing my hands on her shoulders. “Let’s let the paramedics get you up so we don’t do any more damage.” I’d heard somewhere that if someone might have a neck or back injury, it was best not to move them—to wait and let the professionals do that. I wasn’t sure whether or not that advice applied to head injuries as well, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Aunt Bess . . . where is she?”
I couldn’t tell her Aunt Bess wasn’t in her room and that she was more than likely with Aunt Renee. That would send her into a panic. “She’s fine. Mom, what happened?”
“I had it out with Aunt Renee, and she said she was leaving. She stormed off, and I came in here to the guest room.” She winced at the pain in her head. “I heard her say, ‘Come on, Mom. We’re getting out of here!’ Well, no way was I going to let her leave with Aunt Bess!”
“Of course not.”
“I turned and somehow caught the toe of my shoe under the rug and went down like a ton of bricks. I hit my head on the corner of the dresser when I fell. Are you sure Aunt Bess is all right? Where is she?”
Thankfully, I heard the ambulance pull up outside.
“There’s the rescue squad, Mom. You lie still. I’ll go show the paramedics where you are.” I ran off before she could finish her sentence. Naturally, it made sense that if Aunt Bess was in this house, she’d have heard the commotion and would have come to check on Mom by now. But I didn’t want Mom to worry about Aunt Bess at the moment. Surely, Aunt Renee wouldn’t do anything to harm her own mother. On the other hand, she might be driving while impaired . . . or worse.
I took the paramedics to the guest room. One checked Mom’s eyes before loading her onto a stretcher. They asked her a few questions and then carried her to the ambulance.
I squeezed Mom’s hand. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll follow the ambulance in my car.”
She nodded slightly and closed her eyes.
My gaze flew to the face of the closest paramedic.
“She’ll be fine,” he said emphatically. “I promise.”
I raced down the hill, went into my house, and grabbed my purse. I fished out my keys and my cell phone. I started the car and punched in Ryan’s number.
His voice sounded groggy. “Hello?”
“Ryan, it’s Amy. I’m so sorry I woke you up, but it’s an emergency.” I filled him in on what had happened at the big house—well, what I kne
w of it anyway.
“So you’re pretty sure your aunt ran off with your Aunt Bess,” he reiterated.
“Right. And I don’t know whether or not Aunt Bess went willingly. Can you have someone stop Renee?”
“I’ll do my best. Give me a description of the car.”
I gave him as much information as I could. He promised to call the officer on duty and have him assess the situation.
“Thanks, Ryan.”
“Anytime. I hope your mom is okay.”
“Me too.”
After talking with Ryan, I considered calling Jackie. On the one hand, she should know what was going on. On the other hand, I didn’t want to upset her. There were so many questions she’d have that I couldn’t answer: Why had her mom taken Aunt Bess with her when she left? Where were they going? Had Aunt Bess wanted to go with Aunt Renee? I decided to wait and call Jackie when I had more information.
• • •
At the hospital, Mom’s head was bandaged before she was diagnosed with a mild concussion and released. I was instructed to stay with her and check on her every four or five hours for the first twenty-four hours.
Mom dozed on the drive home. I worried. Now I was going to have to call Jackie because I’d have to close the café tomorrow.
Once I had Mom settled in her bed—still unaware that Aunt Bess was AWOL—I went downstairs and called Jackie. Even though it was one o’clock in the morning, Jackie answered as if she’d been awake and sitting by the phone.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I . . . uh . . . I just got back from the emergency room with Mom, so I’m closing the café tomorrow.”
“What’s wrong with Aunt Jenna?”
“She tripped and wound up with a . . . a bump on the head.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Her voice was sharp now.
I caved and told her everything I knew.
“Why didn’t you let me know as soon as this happened?” she demanded. “I should be out there looking for Renee! Who knows where she’s taking Granny!”
“Aunt Bess will be all right. I called Ryan and asked him to have the police officer on duty stop them.”
“Good. Have you heard back? Have they thrown my mom’s sorry butt in jail for kidnapping?”
“I haven’t heard back,” I said softly.
“I’ll call the sheriff’s department and see what I can find out.”
“Jackie, I’m really sorry I didn’t call you sooner . . . after I’d called Ryan.”
“I understand. You were worried about Aunt Jenna. But she’s going to be fine, right?”
“I think so . . . yeah. Well, I’m going to call Shelly and Luis now and tell them the café will be closed tomorrow . . . or rather, today.”
“No, don’t do that. People are counting on the café to be open. After I call Sheriff Billings’s office, I’ll go back to sleep and then I’ll open the café later this morning.”
“There’s no way you’ll be able to sleep with everything you have on your mind,” I said.
“Sure I will. I’ve always got a lot on my mind, and I always sleep. If you’re up to it and if you can leave Aunt Jenna, you can come in for the lunch shift.”
I blew out a breath. “If you don’t feel like going in, don’t. It’s not going to hurt us to be closed for one day.”
“You just opened a couple of weeks ago. You don’t want people to get the impression that you’re flighty and unable to run a business.”
“Then I’ll open the café tomorrow morning.”
“And who will stay with your mom?” she asked.
I didn’t have an answer for that.
“Exactly. Go to bed, Amy. I’ve got this.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
I wasn’t sure whether she’d heard me or not. She’d ended the call already.
• • •
When my alarm went off four hours after I’d gone to bed, I went into Mom’s room to wake her and make sure she was all right.
I shook her gently. “Mom. Mom, it’s me.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Who?”
“You tell me.” The doctor warned me that Mom might be confused.
“Marilyn Monroe? Lizzie Borden? Wonder Woman?” She smiled. “Amy?”
“Very cute, Mom.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” She patted the bed. “Lie down here beside me.”
I did as she asked.
“Now level with me,” she said. “Where’s Aunt Bess?”
That’s when I knew Mom really was fine.
“I don’t know. When I went to check on her, she wasn’t in her room. Aunt Renee must’ve taken Aunt Bess with her. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry, but I did call Ryan and ask him to have Aunt Renee stopped.”
“Thank you.”
“So what happened between you two?” I asked.
“I waited until Aunt Bess went to bed, and then I went to the guest room to talk with Renee. She was lying on the bed reading a magazine. I decided to take the direct approach.” She sighed. “I told Renee that she’d humiliated herself and her family at the dance the night before and that I was convinced she had a drinking problem or a drug problem—maybe both.”
“Whoa. How’d that go over?”
“About as well as you’d expect. Renee went to sputtering that she didn’t have any problems except her uppity cousin. I said she could either get help and pull her life together or get out, effective immediately.”
My jaw dropped. Mom didn’t get angry often, but when she did, she was fierce.
“That absolutely infuriated Renee,” Mom continued. “She said, ‘You can’t order me out of my own mother’s house!’ So I reminded her that it wasn’t Aunt Bess’s house—that it was my house. And then I got really wound up. I asked her if she honestly believed my mother would leave her house to her sister rather than to me.”
“What did she say to that?”
“She just looked at me . . . angry and wild-eyed. And I told her that if she’d just come to Winter Garden to mooch off somebody, then she’d better find herself another patsy.” She looked over at me. “Renee stormed off. And you know the rest.”
I took her hand. “Does Aunt Renee know you fell? Did she just leave you lying there?”
“I don’t think she realized what had happened to me. Maybe she thought the thump was my slamming a door or something . . . if she even heard. How’s Jackie taking this news?”
“About like you’d expect her to—stoically, matter-of-factly, taking charge and doing whatever she can to hide the way she really feels. She insisted on opening the café in the morning . . . well, this morning now. I was going to close up for the day, but she said that would make me look unprofessional since we’ve only been open a couple of weeks.”
“She’s right,” Mom said. “You really should go in. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Jackie insisted on taking the breakfast shift. If I go in, it might look to her as if I don’t trust her to handle the job. Or it might knock her out of allowing her to do what she needs to do in order to feel as if she has some tiny bit of control. I’ll go in at lunchtime.”
“Okay. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
I smiled slightly. “You’ve never failed to come to mine.”
• • •
After Mom fell asleep again, I went downstairs and sat on the sofa. I planned to make a to-do list of everything I needed to get accomplished: call the sheriff’s office to see if they’d found Aunt Renee; make Mom a follow-up appointment with her regular doctor. I looked around for a notepad. When I didn’t see one right away, I rested my head against the cushions and closed my eyes. It would only be for a moment. Just a second . . .
My phone ringing startled me out of a deep sleep and I gasped. I answered the call with
a breathless, “Yes?”
“Settle down, sweetheart. Everything’s fine.”
It was Ryan. His voice sounded wonderful.
“I’m so glad to hear from you. I was going to call the sheriff’s office, but I hadn’t got around to it yet. I’d rather talk with you anyway.” I knew I was babbling, but I was still recovering from my wake-up jolt.
He tsked. “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t have very good news to report.”
“What happened? Was the officer unable to find Aunt Renee?”
“No, he found her all right. She was speeding, so he gave her a citation for that. He also gave her a breathalyzer test, and she passed it. Since she wasn’t legally impaired, he couldn’t detain her.”
“What about Aunt Bess?”
“The patrolman reported that there was an elderly woman in the car. When questioned, she confirmed that she was Renee’s mother and that she was with her of her own volition. As Aunt Bess seemed to be of sound mind, the patrolman couldn’t detain her either.”
“No, of course not. And Aunt Bess is certainly of sound mind—well, relatively. Hmm. I just wish I knew what was going on in Aunt Renee’s head.”
“You and me both,” he said. “I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything else. By the way, how’s your mom doing?”
“She’s doing well.” It occurred to me that I hadn’t asked anything about how his day was going today, and he’d had a rough one yesterday too. “So, hey, did anyone try to break into Mrs. Lincoln’s house last night to get at those files?”
“Nope. Sheriff Billings and I are guessing the caller—if in fact there was one—realized Mrs. Lincoln had brought the matter to us and that having her put the box in the vacant lot was just a ruse.”
“Huh. How would he have known?”
“I imagine he was watching the house when he made the call or that he had the phone bugged or something.”
“If, in fact, there was a caller,” I said. “I’m beginning to realize why you’re finding that unlikely.”
“Well, we haven’t ruled out a caller yet, but we aren’t betting the farm that there was one.”
“So what about the files?”
