The Inn at Rose Harbor

by Debbie Macomber

  When Josh had first walked into the house, Richard had had the energy and resolve to shout at him, but this morning, his stepfather barely had the strength left to breathe.

  “I’ll make us lunch,” Michelle said from behind him.

  It was that time of day already. Josh wasn’t interested in eating. “Don’t make anything for me; I’m not hungry.”

  Michelle acted as if she hadn’t heard him. She went into the kitchen and after a few minutes Josh heard the teakettle whistle. She returned moments later with two mugs.

  “I called hospice,” she said.

  Josh took the mug from her hand and they sat across from each other. The recliner where Richard spent the majority of his time remained empty, although he was very much present in their thoughts.

  “What did they say?” he asked.

  Michelle set the tea down on a coaster and leaned back in the chair. “The woman told me they’d send someone out this afternoon to check on him.”

  Richard wouldn’t like it, but as Michelle had said earlier, the old man was in no condition to protest. He’d asked to die alone, and for just a moment, Josh wondered if they should abide by his wishes. But he suspected Michelle would refuse to leave her neighbor.

  Truth be known, Josh would like to climb into his rental car and drive as far away from Cedar Cove as a tank of gas would take him. In the back of his mind he had hoped to spend at least part of his time off at the ocean.

  One of the happiest memories of his childhood had been a short trip with his mother to Ocean Shores. Josh must have been around ten years old. After his father had left there’d never been extra money for luxuries like vacations. Finances were always a struggle. Yet somehow his mother had managed to eek out a few extra dollars for gas. They’d packed a cooler, loaded the car with pillows and blankets, towels, plastic buckets and shovels, and driven to Ocean Shores. They couldn’t afford a hotel room, so they’d parked on a sandy stretch of beach.

  Josh had raced up and down the shoreline, running headlong into the oncoming waves with boyish glee. They’d purchased a cheap kite and Josh had loved how the wind had picked it up and carried it so high that it became little more than a speck on the horizon. He’d laughed until he was almost sick with happiness.

  Together Josh and his mother had built a huge sand castle and then later that night they made a small fire with driftwood and roasted hot dogs. Even now, all these years later, Josh didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed a better meal. That night they’d slept under the stars with the sound of the ocean in the background.

  “You’ve gone quiet,” Michelle said.

  Josh’s gaze shot to her. Caught up in the memories, he had a difficult time bringing himself back into the present. “I was thinking about a trip I took with my mother as a kid.”

  “Before she met Richard?”

  He nodded. “I was ten and we went to Ocean Shores. I’d hoped this matter with Richard would be done by now and I’d get a chance to visit the ocean. I know the town has grown up a lot since I was there, but the memories will never leave me.”

  “You never returned?”

  “We did, once, with Dylan and Richard.”

  Michelle seemed to be reading his mind. “It wasn’t the same, was it?”

  Josh had been fifteen and he’d had his driver’s permit, which enabled him to rent a scooter. Richard had rented a second one and let Dylan drive it along the beach. In the beginning it’d been crazy fun. Josh had loved the freedom of the scooter, racing on the sand with his stepbrother by his side, the wind in their faces. Then Josh had crashed and the bike had been damaged.

  Richard had reacted with such fury that for the first time his mother intervened, reminding her husband that it’d been an accident. Still, Richard had insisted Josh pay for the damage and they leave for home immediately, ruining everyone’s fun.

  The ride home had been intolerable, thick with tension between his mother and Richard. Dylan had been angry with Josh, too, and Josh had felt sick with the knowledge that he was the one responsible.

  In retrospect he didn’t fully understand Richard’s anger. It had clearly been an accident. He’d paid for the damage to the bike from his paper route money and had accepted responsibility for his actions. No one had even seemed to care that he’d been lucky enough to walk away from the wreck. He almost wished he had been hurt. Perhaps then he might have gotten sympathy instead of a tongue lashing.

  “You’re deep in thought again,” Michelle said.

  “Sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  He hadn’t taken a single swallow of his tea. Before crashing his scooter, Josh had seen his mother walking along the beach with Richard. It might actually have been the distraction that caused him to crash—that part he didn’t remember.

  Teresa had had her arm wrapped around Richard’s elbow. She was dressed in a sleeveless summer dress and the wind had whipped the hair about her face. Her skirt was pressed against her legs. Richard was more relaxed than Josh could ever remember seeing him. He’d rolled his pant legs up to his knees and they were both barefooted. The sound of his mother’s laughter echoed down the beach, mingling with the cries of seagulls circling above. What had struck him about that moment in time was the fact that Teresa was so genuinely happy and carefree.

  All too often Josh could remember his mother sitting at the kitchen table with a mound of bills in front of her. She’d have them stacked in piles as if gauging which ones had to be paid first. More times than he wanted to recall he’d watched her cover her face with both her hands and weep. Just thinking about that made his stomach clench into a hard knot.

  Just the day before, Josh had been willing to acknowledge that his mother had loved Richard. And he couldn’t help but feel grateful to Richard, despite all his flaws, for bringing joy back into her life.

  The doorbell chimed and Michelle went to answer. It was the same woman from hospice that had stopped by the day before.

  “I was at another house close by,” Ginger explained as she stepped over the threshold.

  Michelle took her coat and purse and hung them on the coat-rack just inside the door.

  “We were just having tea, would you like a cup?”

  “Thank you, but I don’t really have time. I’ll check on Richard and then I need to be off.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Josh said, hoping that if Richard got upset, he would take his anger out on Josh instead of the woman who had so graciously volunteered her time.

  Michelle cast him a look that said she should probably be the one to escort the other woman in to see Richard. He bowed to her wishes.

  The temperature between them had cooled considerably since he’d told her that he would be leaving soon. He was sorry for that, but he didn’t want to mislead Michelle. The timing was just all wrong. This was an intensely emotional time and he was confused and unsure if he could trust his feelings. Richard was close to death and the chance to make a clean break from this town and the painful memories was fast approaching.

  After a few more minutes of questions and answers, the two women quietly crept into Richard’s bedroom.

  Josh didn’t hear Richard complain, so he speculated that his stepfather was still asleep. Maybe he had even passed away.

  Richard dead.

  The unexpected shaft of grief that struck him caused Josh to sink down into a chair. He should be glad all of this was over if indeed that was the case.

  Thinking back, Josh tried to remember what it’d been like when his mother had died. They’d known, of course, that the end was near. Richard and Josh had been with her, one on either side of her hospital bed. That was fitting, considering how far apart they were in every aspect except their love for the dying woman.

  His mother had been sleeping, and her breathing had gone shallow and whispery. After one last breath, she was gone.

  Richard had looked at Josh, tears streaming down his ashen cheeks, his eyes filled with raw grief, and wh
ispered, “She’s passed.” Then he’d leaned forward, his elbow braced against the bed, and wept loudly.

  Josh had been in some sort of emotional shock, he realized now, because he’d felt nothing. Not grief, not pain … he’d felt absolutely nothing. He hadn’t shed a tear, at least not that he remembered.

  Richard’s loud wails had brought a nurse into the room. A chaplain had been called, too. By then Richard had gotten ahold of himself enough to function normally. Josh couldn’t remember either of them speaking on the way home. After dropping Josh off at the house, Richard left almost immediately for the funeral parlor.

  Funny how those memories were surfacing all of a sudden. What he found even odder was that he had been in an emotional bubble when his mother had died and he was feeling just the opposite now that it was Richard’s time to go. He was overwhelmed with sadness and the old man was still alive. Josh could find no plausible explanation.

  Michelle and Ginger came out of Richard’s bedroom.

  “He’s awake,” Michelle said. “His eyes fluttered open when we entered the room.”

  “What do you think?” Josh directed the question to the hospice volunteer.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Less than forty-eight hours would be my educated guess.”

  “That soon?” Josh wanted to believe Richard was too mean to die. He’d want to beat the odds, prove that he was more powerful than death. “Did you tell him that?” he asked.

  The woman from hospice shook her head.

  “Was he upset we called hospice again?” Josh asked, looking at Michelle.

  “He was, but he doesn’t have the strength to yell any longer.”

  “He wanted you to leave him alone, right?”

  She smiled knowingly and nodded. “Oh, there were a few other choice words tossed in as well, but I can’t see repeating those.”

  “That’s probably for the best.”

  “Call me if there’s a change,” the hospice lady said. “The medication will address the pain. I don’t see any reason for him to go to the hospital.”

  Josh walked her to the front door. As she fastened her coat, she paused. “He could pass soon, perhaps sometime late tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay. Thank you for coming; we appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I’m glad I was in the vicinity and could stop by.”

  “We are, too.”

  The house seemed unnaturally quiet after she left.

  Josh hesitated and then went into Richard’s bedroom. The door creaked when he opened it.

  Sure enough, Richard’s eyes opened as Josh walked into the bedroom, stopping at the foot of the bed.

  “I thought I told you to stay away,” Richard muttered.

  Josh moved closer in order to hear him. “I’ll leave in due course, so don’t worry. I’ll be out of here before you know it.”

  “Go now.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  Richard closed his eyes and inhaled softly, his breath reedy and thin.

  “I was remembering when Mom died,” Josh said.

  Almost instantly Richard’s eyes filled with tears. He rubbed his hand across his face and Josh could see he was embarrassed.

  “I still miss her,” the older man managed to whisper. “Not a day passes that I don’t think of Teresa.”

  “Thank you for the joy you brought into her life. I hope you realize how deeply she loved you and how happy being married to you made her. I’ll always be grateful for how you took care of her, especially at the end of her life.”

  Richard’s tears flowed in earnest then, rolling down his deathly pale cheeks, making gleaming tracks as they progressed to his chin and dripped onto the pillowcase.

  “Meeting Teresa was the best thing to ever happen to me … and to Dylan, too.”

  He was silent after that, as if he was caught up in the memories. Then, just as Josh was about to leave, Richard spoke again. “I thought I saw her …”

  “When?” he asked softly.

  “Last night. She stood at the foot of the bed, ghostlike. I could see straight through her to the wall.”

  “Did she say anything?” No doubt it’d been the drugs. The dose of painkillers would have kicked in by then and they were strong ones.

  “She didn’t speak but … it seemed like I could hear her. She told me that she and Dylan were waiting for me.”

  Josh nodded.

  “I’m not afraid of death.” The defiant look in Richard’s eyes underscored his words. “I’m ready to go. Anytime.”

  “Good thing.”

  “Good thing,” Richard repeated and closed his eyes.

  For one crazed second Josh thought he’d actually died, but then he saw Richard’s chest move as he exhaled, and he was able to breathe again, too.

  Just like Josh had thought. Richard Lambert was too ornery to die.

  Chapter 25

  Abby knocked on her parents’ hotel room door and waited. No one responded, so she knocked again, louder. Still no one answered. Fearing she might have gotten the wrong room, she headed down to the front desk. As she neared the counter Abby noticed that the breakfast room was tucked off to the side, and it was crowded with people chatting and sitting around tables. It wasn’t breakfast time though.

  “Abby.” Her mother came through the double-wide doors with her arms outstretched. “We’re in here.”

  “Mom …”

  “Abby,” her aunt Eileen cried, joining her mother. “Oh, sweetie, it’s so good to see you.” She enfolded Abby in her arms, giving her a hug so strong that Abby feared her aunt would crack her ribs. “It’s been far too long,” Eileen said.

  Her uncle Jake joined his wife. He slipped one arm around Eileen’s waist and the other around Abby’s. “Come see your cousins.”

  The last time Abby had seen Sondra and Randall she’d been a teenager and they’d been toddlers. The gangly young man who approached her had a protruding Adam’s apple and he stood at least six feet two inches, towering above her.

  “Randy?” Abby couldn’t believe this was her baby cousin.

  “I go by Rand now.”

  “Rand?” Her eyes widened. “What happened to you?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “I grew up.”

  A lovely young blond woman joined him. “Don’t you remember me?” she asked.

  “Sondra?”

  She smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “It’s me.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Abby laughed. “Good grief, I changed Rand’s diapers.”

  “Ah … would you mind …?” The youth asked, awkwardly shuffling his feet.

  “As I recall we called you Super Pooper.”

  Rand’s boyish face went bright red, and the assembled group laughed.

  “Don’t worry,” Abby promised, “I won’t mention it again.”

  “Thanks,” he said, grinning back at her.

  “Remember your aunt Betty Ann?” her mother said, steering Abby to the other side of the room.

  “Where’s Uncle Leon?” Abby remembered that her father’s brother always had a camera in hand.

  No sooner had she asked the question than a camera flashed.

  “Uncle Leon,” she said, laughing. Both her aunt and uncle hugged her.

  “It’s been far too long,” her aunt Betty Ann complained.

  “You’re welcome to visit any time,” Abby surprised herself by saying. “Remember, I live in Florida and the winters there are lovely.”

  “We live in Arizona,” Betty Ann said. “We have great winters, too.”

  “They aren’t that far from us,” her mother added.

  “Oh sweetie, you don’t know how good it is to see you.”

  Her uncle Leon aimed the camera in her direction. “You always were as pretty as a picture.” The flash went off three times in quick succession.

  “Where are Doug, Craig, and Joy?” Abby asked about her younger cousins.

  “They’re here. Joy made us grandparents two years
ago.”

  “You’re a grandmother, Aunt Betty Ann?” Her mother had probably mentioned it, but she had forgotten.

  Abby’s mother crossed her arms in a competitive huff. “Don’t go there, Betty Ann.” She glared at her daughter and then smiled, letting her know she was only joking. “Now that Roger is marrying there’s a good likelihood Tom and I will eventually have grandchildren. Unless, of course …” she paused and looked squarely in Abby’s direction. “Unless Abby finds a young man, settles down fast, and has a baby or two.”

  “Mom!” Abby protested but not strenuously.

  For the next fifteen minutes she was shuffled from table to table to reacquaint herself with a bevy of relatives from both her mother’s and father’s sides of the family.

  She saw Joy and her infant son and met Joy’s husband. The family lived in Alaska and had flown down to Seattle for the wedding and to visit other family members. Doug and Craig were both married, too, and Abby met both of their wives. Doug’s wife was pregnant and her aunt Betty Ann was thrilled that it was a baby girl, her first granddaughter.

  What astonished Abby was how much everyone had changed from the last time she’d been at a family gathering, which had been more years ago than she cared to remember.

  At one time Abby had been close to her younger cousins, despite the difference in their ages. Even three or four years had been a big deal back then. Sondra and Rand were the youngest while Doug, Craig, and Joy were only a few years younger than Abby.

  By the time Abby followed her mother back to the hotel room to get ready to leave for lunch, her head was spinning with names and faces. “When did everyone grow up?” she asked, shaking her head in wonder.

  “Well, sweetheart, if you came out of your shell a bit more often you’d be able to answer that yourself.”

  “I know,” Abby agreed, and for the first time she felt that she’d made a huge mistake in sequestering herself so.

  Her mother slid the plastic key into the lock and opened the door. The maid had been by and the room had been cleaned.

  “I have to change my shoes,” Linda said as she bent over and retrieved a pair from the closet floor.