He lived long enough to hear her heartfelt declaration, then he peacefully slipped away. Every single employee of the restaurant was packed into the kitchen. The entire scene was heart wrenching and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.
Antonio never did work on keeping himself healthy and his heart just gave out that day. He died in her arms, before the paramedics had a chance to do their thing. They tried to bring him back once again, but it was too late.
Devastated, Catherine was inconsolable. She closed the restaurant down temporarily, until she could figure out what to do next. Though she had spent the last several years of her life helping her husband run the restaurant, she didn’t want to do it without him. She sat in the house they shared, all alone, for a couple of weeks, refusing to see anyone.
During this time, the insurance company tried repeatedly to contact her about Antonio’s life insurance. She didn’t care. She couldn’t bring herself to deal with any of it. The money didn’t matter to her, she just wanted Antonio back. That would never happen though.
“Hello?” Catherine said quietly into the phone one afternoon. She barely had the energy to reach over to her nightstand and answer it.
“Hello? Is this Catherine Rossi?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Mrs. Rossi, this is Alvin. I’ve been trying to reach you about your husband’s death benefits.”
“Oh yeah, sorry. I haven’t been speaking to anyone,” Catherine replied, as she sat up in bed and swung her legs over the side to get in a better sitting position.
“I’m really sorry about your husband.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Catherine was so tired of hearing that. It was apparently the only thing anyone could come up with. “So, what can I do for you, Alvin?”
“I just need you to get us a copy of your husband’s death certificate. Then we can release the money.”
“Can this wait? I’m really not up to dealing with this right now.” Catherine told him bluntly.
“Well, yes, it can wait, I suppose. It’s just that I really need to get this taken care of, so I can close out your account. The main office doesn’t like us to keep files open any longer than they need to be.” Alvin was trying his best to sound sympathetic, and not like someone that just wanted to be done with her. But that’s pretty much what he was. He needed to close her case and move on. She was not making it easy for him. He figured that it shouldn’t be so difficult to give someone money. Especially the large amount she was getting.
“Okay, fine. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” Catherine hung up the phone without another word.
The next morning, she slowly got her shower, got dressed, and had a few bites of toast. It was the most she could convince herself to eat. Food just wasn’t appealing to her. She made her way to the vital records department at the county courthouse, and requested a copy of her husband’s death certificate. When the clerk returned with it a few minutes later, she had a thought.
“Um, can I bother you to get another death certificate for me?” Catherine asked the woman.
“Yes, as long as you are next of kin.”
“I am. It’s my daughter’s death certificate,” Catherine said. Her eyes drooped involuntarily as her right hand reached up to touch the heart shaped necklace she wore. Catherine had bought it with her very first paycheck from the restaurant that she now owned. It was the one and only thing she had to remind her of the daughter she lost. It had brought her great comfort over the years.
“Oh, I’m very sorry,” the woman told her. She said it many times a week to those asking for a copy of their loved one’s death certificate. The words held very little meaning for the clerk anymore.
“Thank you. It was several years ago. I don’t know why I never got a copy. But, since I’m here, I figured it would be a good time.”
Catherine gave the clerk all the information she required and walked over to sit down in one of the chairs across from the counter to wait. The woman took several minutes before she returned.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we don’t have your daughter’s certificate on file here. It was in this county, right?” she asked.
Catherine stood up and walked back to the counter. “Yes, it was right here in town. She was only a few hours old when she died. Would that make any difference?”
“No. There would still be a death certificate required. Was there an autopsy? If so, the coroner’s office usually sends the certificate over, instead of the hospital.”
“No autopsy. At least I don’t think there was. The nurse at the hospital took care of all the arrangements for me. I was out of sorts, you know?” Catherine told her.
“Of course. But, that’s very unusual. Even if there is no autopsy, it would probably have gone through the coroner’s office. They are very good about their records. You should probably go over to the hospital and talk to the people in the medical records department. They can probably help you.”
“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll try that. Thank you.”
Catherine left the courthouse and headed straight for the hospital. She hadn’t been back since her daughter died. There were a lot of feelings welling up inside of her the instant she walked in the front door. She had to sit down for a minute to collect herself, before she could continue her task. Tears were gathering and threatening to spill over and she pulled a tissue out of her purse as she sat down.
An elderly woman sitting in the chair next to her asked her if she was all right and Catherine nodded as she dabbed her eyes. Though the woman was very kind, Catherine had no desire to get into a conversation with anyone about the death of her daughter. Anyone but the medical records staff, that is.
It took a few minutes of wandering around the hospital before she found the medical records office. She never could understand why hospitals had to be so dang confusing.
“Hi, excuse me,” Catherine said to the gruff looking woman sitting at a desk behind the counter. The woman must have heard Catherine walk in, as the door squeaked loudly, but she chose to ignore her.
Catherine waited a full minute before speaking again. “Excuse me. I was hoping you could help me,” Catherine said a little louder than the first time.
The woman looked up and pulled her reading glasses from her face. She carefully let them drop, as they were attached to her by a silver chain that was around her neck. The woman was at least 75 years old and a good 50 pounds overweight, with very short, white hair that had been carefully groomed so that every hair was in place.
“Yes? Can I help you?” She didn’t sound as gruff as she looked.
“Yes, I’m wondering if I can get a copy of my daughter’s death certificate.” Catherine stood back, waiting for the inevitable ‘I’m so sorry for your loss’ speech that she had heard a thousand times.
“We don’t give out copies of death certificates here. You have to get it from the courthouse.” With that, the woman picked up her glasses, put them back on, and went back to whatever it was that was so important in the folder in front of her.
“No, you don’t understand. They told me to come here.” Catherine spoke even louder.
The woman looked up again, clearly annoyed, and didn’t bother taking her glasses off this time. “Ma’am, I don’t think you understand. We do not give out death certificates here. We are not the courthouse. You have to go there.”
The woman stood up then. With her age and extra weight, she didn’t move fast at all and gave out a little groan of pain as proof that there was tremendous effort exerted. Catherine thought the woman was going to walk over to the counter and yell at her, but that’s not what happened.
“Carl, I’m going to lunch. You hold the fort down, okay?” she said to the only other person in the office.
“Yep,” Carl answered back.
The older woman gave Catherine a look as she walked by that can only be described as a scowl. Catherine didn’t understand the woman’s reaction to her simple request. As the woman walked out the back door, Carl
got up from his desk and walked over to the counter where Catherine was standing.
“Hi, sweetie. Don’t mind her. She has been working here since Lincoln was president and she won’t go one single second out of her way to do anything for anyone. Don’t take it personally.”
Catherine couldn’t help but smile.
“My name is Carl. Let me try to help you. So, I understand that you would like a copy of your daughter’s death certificate. Here, write the information down and I’ll see what I can do.”
Carl pushed a small notepad and pen across the counter to Catherine. She wrote down her name and the baby’s birth and death dates. She had never given the baby a name. She hadn’t seen the point at the time. Now, she wished she had.
Carl tore off the top sheet of the notepad. “Okay, let me have a look. You can sit back down over there. This may take a few minutes.”
Carl was a kind looking man with dark skin and very closely cropped hair. He was clean shaven and broad shouldered, which Catherine liked. He looked to Catherine to be about her age.
Carl sat down at his computer and started typing. It took less than a minute before he got up and walked back over to the counter.
“According to your medical records, your baby went home with you,” Carl told her.
“Well, that’s obviously wrong. She died only a few hours after she was born and I left the hospital alone.”
“How about the mortuary? Have you tried them yet? They usually keep copies of death certificates on file,” Carl offered.
“No, there was no mortuary. I mean, I think she was cremated. I…just…really don’t know.” Catherine’s eyes began filling with tears.
“What do you mean that you don’t know? Did you have a service for her?” Carl asked.
With that, her eyes could not contain her tears any longer. Catherine realized that she royally screwed everything up. It was her child and her responsibility to deal with everything. How could she leave it all up to a nurse that she didn’t even know? Catherine had no idea what happened to her baby, and that just broke her heart.
Carl reached over, pulled out a few tissues from the box perched on the counter, and handed them to Catherine.
“Please don’t cry. I’ll help you sort all this out, okay?” Carl had always been a sucker for a crying woman, and patted her on the shoulder to comfort her.
“I didn’t have a service for her. She was only a few hours old and I was devastated. The delivery nurse offered to take care of everything and I let her.”
Carl raised his eyebrows in surprise. When Catherine looked up at him, he quickly lowered his eyebrows, so she wouldn’t see the look in his face.
“Okay, let’s try something else. I’m going to see who the nurse was. Maybe I know her. I’ve been here for a long time.”
Catherine just nodded as Carl walked back over to his desk and sat down. He began typing away on his computer.
“Okay, here it is. Looks like Emily Anders was your nurse. I do know her…or at least used to. She moved out of state years ago.”
“Oh, that’s just great. She had my baby cremated, or buried somewhere, and I have no idea where, and no one knows anything. Why in the world would there not be a death certificate?” Catherine was starting to sound desperate.
“That’s a really good question. Somebody screwed up, that’s for sure.” Carl knew he wasn’t being helpful with that comment, but he wasn’t wrong.
“What do I do now?” There were those tears threatening to spill over again.
Carl hesitated for a moment, knowing that what he was about to do could get him fired, and possibly arrested. Was it worth it? He took another look at the pathetic look on Catherine’s face, and he caved. He took a deep breath.
“I could get fired for doing this, and it may even be against the law. But, I like you and I can see that you have nowhere else to turn for information. Her forwarding address is on Wildflower Island. That’s off the coast of California. But, that’s all I can tell you. I can’t give you the actual address, I’m already saying too much. Perhaps you can try doing an internet search. Her name is Emily Anders. Sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”
“Oh, thank you! That’s wonderful. I’ll see if I can find her. It can’t be that hard nowadays, especially if she’s living on an island.” Catherine took his hand and patted the back of it. That made Carl smile.
“Keep in mind though, that was several years ago. She might not even be there anymore.” Carl tried his best to not get her hopes up. “Some people move around a lot.”
“I know. But I have to try. Thank you so much. You have no idea how helpful you’ve been. Well, I should go before that woman gets back.”
Both of them chuckled.
“Yeah, maybe you should,” Carl smiled at her.
Chapter 9
“I don’t know why I have to be here anyway,” Isabella Hale whined to her father.
She was sitting in the corner of the couch in her father’s new apartment, with her legs and arms crossed defiantly. At only 10 years old, she was very unhappy about her father’s new girlfriend moving in. Beth was always nice to her, but it didn’t matter to Isabella. She hated her. In Isabella’s 10 year old mind, Beth was the reason her parents couldn’t get back together.
Jacob Hale just shook his head back and forth slightly. He was tired of her attitude about Beth. Beth had nothing to do with Jacob and Jeanette breaking up. He and Beth met months after he moved out of his family’s house, but Isabella was much too young to understand that. In her mind, it was all on Beth.
“Because it’s my weekend to have you, that’s why,” his voice sharp with annoyance.
Jacob adored his daughter, but he was tired of her crap. He ran his fingers through his blond hair that was graying at the temples. He thought it made him look ‘distinguished.’ Is that what most men in their 40s want? To look distinguished? He didn’t know, but he liked it anyway. He thought it looked nice with his short beard and brown eyes.
“Sawyer’s not here. That’s not fair. Why doesn’t he have to be here?” Isabella was still whining, and getting on her father’s last nerve.
“Isabella, you know why,” he answered her through clenched teeth. “We have already talked about this. Sawyer is almost an adult. We decided to let him make his own decision on where he wants to stay. Sometimes he’s here when you’re not. When you are older, you can decide too,” Jacob explained to her again, for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“It’s still not fair.” Isabella stuck her bottom lip out to accentuate her defiance at the whole situation.
“Good to know.” That was all Jacob said, as he rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. He was not about to let her behavior get any more attention than it deserved. He didn’t want to encourage her.
Beth was in the kitchen, listening to the whole exchange. She was a lot more patient with Isabella than Jacob was. Beth’s own parents divorced when she was young, so she knew exactly what the girl was going through, and just gave Isabella her space. She knew the girl would come around sooner or later. They might even be good friends one day. Beth smiled at that thought. She didn’t have any kids of her own, and really wanted Jacob’s kids to like her. In her heart she knew that she and Jacob would be getting married one day. Because of this, it was vitally important that Sawyer and Isabella like her. She would be their stepmother after all.
“Dinner’s ready,” Beth called from the kitchen, when Jacob and Isabella were through talking. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt them.
Beth unwrapped the pink and black striped apron that she had been wearing around her slightly chunky frame, as she put the last of the food on the dining table. She was a bit self-conscious about her weight, but Jacob didn’t seem to mind. He even told her that he liked a curvy woman. Too many these days were obsessed over their weight, even though they were reed thin. He wanted a ‘real woman.’ She smiled as she recalled that conversation. He was the sweetest man she had ever met.
&nbs
p; During dinner, Jacob and Beth both tried talking to Isabella. However, she refused to speak to Beth. She talked some to her father, but was still angry about having to stay with them for the weekend, when her brother didn’t have to.
“Isabella, I think you and I haven’t really had the chance to get to know one another,” Beth said.
Isabella didn’t look up from her plate, as she pushed her mashed potatoes around with a fork.
“I want to change that,” Beth continued. “I think we could be great friends, if we just try.” Beth tried again to engage the sullen girl in conversation.
No response and no eye contact.
“Isabella!” Jacob yelled as he pounded his fist hard on the dining room table, causing her to drop her fork in surprise. That was completely out of character for her father and her eyes widened as she looked up at him.
“I’m tired of this,” he continued. “Stop being a brat and answer Beth. None of this is her fault, and you need to respond when she talks to you.” He was no longer yelling, but his voice was still louder than usual.
“Okay, fine,” Isabella responded, as she picked up her fork, still not looking up at her father’s girlfriend.
Beth looked over at Jacob with narrowed eyes. She didn’t have to say anything. He could see the annoyance in her face.
“Sweetheart,” Beth turned to Isabella, “it’s a really beautiful evening. Why don’t you and I go for a nice walk along the Ridge Path. We can talk, or just walk, if that’s what you want. I’m sure your father won’t mind doing the dishes.” Beth turned to Jacob when she said that, with a cheesy smile.
“No, I don’t mind.” Jacob was much calmer then. “That’s a great idea. What do you say, Izzy? Do you want to go for a walk with Beth?”
Desperation on Wildflower Island Page 6
