Mourning After

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Mourning After Page 8

by Stephanie Damore


  “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh. The ironic part is that my dad works in the industry. He's a marketing executive for a film studio. It would be nothing for him to pick up the phone and make a few calls, just an introduction, but he could never be bothered. It was almost as if I was blacklisted before I even got started. So then I turned to stage, which really wasn't much of a sacrifice as it was my first love. But, well, that turned out to be a nightmare too." I looked away and went to take another drink of my wine and found my glass empty.

  "Yes, our mothers would get along fabulously. Honestly, I never could figure out why my parents had a child in the first place. They couldn’t be bothered with me for most of my childhood. It was almost as if I was a trophy to be put on display. Anyway, if it wasn't for my Aunt Jackie, the one who passed away, and Gran,” I stopped short, having almost said too much. I cleared my throat. “My grandmother, I would've had a very sad childhood."

  "And now you help people recover from their own sad circumstances. There is something poetic about that."

  There would be if I was, in fact, a counselor. I accepted the compliment anyhow and turned the focus back on Jake's family. "What about your dad? He wasn't at the funeral, was he?”

  "Pops? He still getting over my mom. It's a pretty recent divorce and, as a sign of his character, he would've tried to make it work even though it was my mom who stepped out on the marriage. Rather publicly. Needless to stay, he didn't live up to her expectations either."

  Ouch. Yep, I did not like Gwen one bit.

  “Sometimes living in Peachtree isn’t far enough away,” Jake said.

  “I hear that.” My mother could irk me with a single text message. Now that took talent.

  We found ourselves back in front of the chateau shortly after our late lunch.

  “One day I’ll have to take you on a tour of the inside.” Jake motioned to the house.

  “I can’t imagine. I’d offer to go now, but I know it’s getting late.” Jake had been in his element out in the gardens and surrounding acreage, but now that we were back in civilization, a sense of edginess returned. Jake took out his cell phone and checked the display.

  “Any missed calls?” I asked while looking at my own phone.

  “No, none.”

  “I’m sure everyone’s doing just fine.”

  “I know you’re right, but I’d feel better getting back.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” I took one last look at the glorious home behind me and then turned and followed Jake down the path back to his truck.

  6

  It was sunset by the time we made our way back into town. The day had turned out to be beautiful despite the mid-morning drama and afternoon rainstorm. I had never seen a lavender sunset in all my life. Shades of purple and blue swirled with the clouds, creating a dream-like atmosphere as the sun slipped behind the mountains, tugging the rest of the light with it.

  I smiled to myself. The afternoon had been a surprise. I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself that much with Jake. But beneath that happiness was a mighty large dose of guilt. It would be bittersweet when he returned to Atlanta, and I could put this lie to rest.

  My guilt was short-lived when we turned into Pleasant View and saw the police lights dancing in the distance. Jake gunned it. My heart rate picked up as we drew closer to emergency vehicles and then it just about stopped when I realized the house they were all parked in front of.

  Jake hadn’t even shifted into park before he unbuckled his seatbelt. I did the same and scrambled out of the truck as soon as it was safe to do so.

  "Let me through, let me through." A single female police officer stood guard on Gran’s front porch.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can’t let you enter.” The woman’s arms were folded across her chest in an authoritative-like stance.

  “You have to. That's my grandmother in there!”

  “Your grandmother?” Jake’s voice came from behind me. I turned in time to catch his surprised expression, which quickly turned to anger. His brow furrowed, and he took a step back. That didn't matter now. "Tell me she's okay. Just tell me that she will be all right."

  The officer’s attitude softened, even though her stance didn’t. “The paramedics are with her right now. She appears to be stable."

  "Oh, thank God.” I exhaled and placed my hands on my hips, realizing for the first time that I was completely out of breath. I turned and that's when I locked eyes with Jake. He quickly looked away and shook his head while staring at the ground.

  I started to walk toward him. “Jake, I'm—"

  He held up a hand to stop me. “Don't, just don't." He turned away from me and walked back to his truck.

  I looked out across the lawn. In the darkness, I could make out Hazel and Harold standing together. The look on Hazel's face told me she had witnessed what had just unfolded. She whispered something into Harold's ear and then walked off to meet her grandson at his truck.

  I stood on the front porch in hopes that the police officer would change her mind and let me enter the house.

  "I live here. This is my home too,” I tried to explain.

  "I understand that, ma'am, but right now we need to secure the scene. If you want to help your grandmother, the best thing you can do is stay outside and wait for the paramedics to bring her out. I'm sure then you’ll be able to talk with her and ride along to the hospital if you wish."

  "Okay, I'll just have to do that." I turned and looked behind my shoulder just in time to see Jake pull away from the curb. He didn't squeal the tires, but I bet he had wanted to. Hazel looked at me and threw her arms up in the air. I walked over and joined her and Harold.

  "Jake is all my fault,” she said. “Don't worry about that right now."

  I nodded and was about to say okay, but I couldn't. Big tears fell from my eyes and left me unable to speak. Jake was only part of it. What in the world happened to my poor gran?

  "You guys know anything? Either one of you? The officer said they were securing the scene. What does that mean?” I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand.

  Harold pulled a folded tissue out of his pants pocket. “Here you go, darlin’.” I took the tissue and blotted at my face.

  It was Hazel who answered me. "Honey, I don't know for sure. She was fit as a fiddle thirty minutes ago when she walked out of my house. Wheel of Fortune had just ended, and she decided that it was time for her to get back home. I saw her to the porch and watched her walk down the street and that was the end of it. Not fifteen minutes later, I heard the sirens and followed them on down here.”

  "I've got a bad feeling about this. I don't like what's going on in this neighborhood," Harold said. He started to pace back-and-forth. His gait had a slight limp without his cane, but that didn't stop him from walking up and down the sidewalk.

  “Neither do I, Harold.” Hazel folded her arms across her chest.

  A handful of minutes later, the paramedics brought Gran out. They lifted the stretcher up and through the door jamb and down the steps. When they reached the sidewalk, the wheels were released, and they were able to roll the stretcher down the sidewalk toward the waiting ambulance. I rushed over to her side with Hazel right beside me.

  "Oh, Gran, what in the world happened to you?" She was wearing her light-blue nightgown, the one with the white lace trim. It was beautiful except now it was ruined with splashes of blood down the front. Around her head was a thick swath of gauze.

  "I'm okay." Gran lifted her fingertips to touch the bandages on her head. She closed her eyes for a second to steady her breath. "Sorry, just a little dizzy that's all." Her eyes fluttered shut and stayed that way. The paramedics eyed one another as if silently saying it was time to go. They wasted no time loading her up.

  Hazel touched my arm. "I'll drive over and meet you at the hospital.”

  We turned around to see that Harold had already gotten his car and it was running at the curb. Hazel turned to meet him, and I climbed in the back of the ambulance and sat be
side Gran, taking her hand. The ambulance backed up and pulled away, racing across town to Mercy General. Gran floated in and out of consciousness during the ride, and I didn't dare ask any more questions. Instead, I sat there praying that she would be okay and murmuring words of encouragement.

  "We're almost there, then we’ll have the doctors fix you right up. You're going to be just fine once they get their hands on you." I gave her hand a squeeze and couldn't help the tears that fell. The most beautiful afternoon had turned into the most horrible evening of my life.

  Harold had followed directly behind the ambulance and was able to park in the emergency lot adjacent to where the ambulance had pulled through. I stood there just on the other side of the hospital’s main doors, waiting for them to walk over when a member of the hospital staff greeted me.

  “Hi, I’m Kelly. I work in admissions and I just have a couple of questions.” The woman was young, probably early twenties. She had dark chestnut hair and large brown eyes, and had already mastered the art of southern hospitality. She placed her hand on my arm and gave it a little rub and a pat. My eyes followed Gran as they wheeled her down the hall.

  “Don’t worry, Doctor Gray is on tonight and he’s phenomenal.” Kelly took me by the elbow and led me over to patient registration.

  “I’m afraid I’m not much help,” I said.

  “The paramedics didn’t have much of a report either. Do you know if it was an accident or was she assaulted?”

  Assaulted. The word made me sick to my stomach. Then I thought about the police officer’s securing the scene comment, but I wasn’t sure what she had meant by that. “I honestly don’t know. I came home after the police and paramedics were already there. Although she had spent the day with her best friend, and she says she was fine an hour ago.”

  “Do you know what time that was?”

  “Um, after Wheel of Fortune, so eight o’clock?”

  Kelly typed everything I said while still maintaining eye contact and listening to me. Now that was skill.

  “Okay, well, why don't you just come with me and you can have a seat here in the waiting room. I’ll let Doctor Gray know where you are, and he’ll come and speak to you as soon as he has some information. There's coffee and tea if you’d like something to drink,” Kelly said, motioning to the self-serve station on the counter, “and a row of vending machines around the corner. Again, my name’s Kelly and I'll be sitting up here at the desk. Just let me know if you need anything."

  "Thanks." I nervously patted my hand on my thigh while biting my upper lip. Harold and Hazel joined me at that moment.

  "What did you find out?" Harold asked.

  "Nothing. She kept drifting in and out of consciousness on the ride over, and I didn't dare try to ask her about it. Kelly," I pointed to the pleasant-looking woman at the front counter, "said she'll tell the doctor I'm here, and he’ll come out when they have some news for us.”

  "So now we wait," said Hazel.

  “Yes, we wait."

  It quickly became evident that we were not very good at waiting. Harold kept up his pacing routine, Hazel insisted on making fresh coffee for the entire waiting room, which Kelly assisted her with, and I continued to nervously bite my upper lip. Sheriff Evans strolled through the automatic glass doors and joined us about an hour later. I immediately stood and walked over to him. The sheriff looked weary. His uniform was freshly pressed, but that was about all.

  "How's Mabel?" The sheriff removed his hat, and fresh raindrops rolled off the brim. I hadn’t even noticed that it had started raining again.

  "We don't know. Haven't heard anything."

  "Did she say anything on the way to the hospital?"

  I shook my head "No. What happened? Do you know?"

  Sheriff Evans cleared his throat. “Her neighbor, Mr. Embers, was out taking a walk in his garden. He heard Mabel holler just before nine o’clock. He walked over to see if she was okay, and that’s when he saw her through the front window. She was lying in the hallway.”

  My hand immediately went up to my mouth.

  “The front door was locked, but he was able to get in around back. The sliding glass door was wide open …” Sheriff Evans looked away, taking his voice with him.

  “And what?”

  “Sorry.” He coughed a couple of times into the crook of his elbow. “A bloodied footprint was found outside on the concrete.”

  I felt the earth roll from underneath my feet.

  “Are you saying she was attacked?”

  “Yes, looks that way.”

  My stomach felt sick and I fought to stay on my feet. Gran was just a petite little thing. She suddenly seemed as fragile to me as a porcelain doll. “It's a miracle she's alive." My voice a whisper.

  “It is. I’d like a chance to talk with her soon as she's able. See what she remembers."

  “You think she will?"

  Sheriff Evans tossed up his hand. “Hard to say, but I sure hope so." He moved past me and went to talk to Kelly at the front counter.

  I turned and saw Harold’s and Hazel's reactions. They knew the news wasn't good just by looking at my face. I swallowed hard, walking over and sitting down beside them.

  “Someone was in the house. They found a bloody footprint outside.”

  Hazel gasped and jumped to her feet. I don't know where she was going to go, but she apparently felt the need to do something.

  “My sweet Mabel." Harold’s eyes welled with tears. He could no longer keep it together. I reached over and gave him a full hug, trying to support him and not let myself fall apart in the process. I rubbed his back.

  "We'll figure this out. Someone's to blame, and we'll figure out who they are and why they did it." I vowed to Harold and myself right then and there.

  Dr. Gray gave us an update almost two hours later. I held my breath as he approached us and motioned for me to join him in the private conference room across the hall. I got shakily to my feet and followed. My heart began to beat so loudly, I was sure the doctor could hear it.

  “It looks like she’s going to be okay,” he started off with. I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. “We ran a CT scan to gauge the level of injury, and everything looks clear on that front. She did need about eight stitches to close that laceration on her forehead, and she’s been given some meds for the pain and to help her relax.” I nodded to it all. “We’re going to keep her, do some more advanced neuro evaluations in the morning, but so far, everything looks okay. Definitely could’ve been much worse.”

  “Okay, can I see her?”

  “You can, but I’d like to keep it short. Let her get some rest. Let her body heal.”

  “I can do that.” I tucked my hands in my front jeans pockets. “Did she say anything by chance? Like who might have attacked her?”

  Dr. Gray shook his head. “No, the only thing she talked about was her granddaughter, and she asked if I was single.” Dr. Gray laughed. He would be a catch if you liked the whole tall, dark, and handsome look. And let’s face it, who didn’t?

  I felt myself blush. “Yep, that sounds like Gran. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. She was fun. I’ll be back in tomorrow morning and I’ll stop up to see her.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Dr. Gray left, and I passed the news on to Hazel and Harold.

  “You go on in and see her. I’m sure she’s just as anxious to see you too.” Hazel shooed me away.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked.

  “We’ll follow up in a couple of minutes, darlin’,” Harold replied.

  I followed the signs and took the elevator up to the third floor, where she had been transferred. I double-checked with the nurse at the station to make sure I had the right room. I was always worried I’d walk into the wrong one for whatever reason and interrupt or see something that I wouldn’t be able to erase from my mind.

  Gran’s door was shut. I knocked softly and then pushed the handle down to relea
se the door. Inside, the soft orange lights were dim, the television was off, and Gran was already snoozing comfortably in the bed, or as comfortably as she could with an IV in one hand and a large gauze pad on her forehead. I tiptoed in and stood by her bedside just for a moment before kissing her on the head and sneaking back out.

  Hazel and Harold insisted on staying even though I tried to get them to go home.

  “No sense in the three of us being dead on our feet.” I thought I was pretty convincing, but they wouldn't have it. As long as I stayed, they stayed with me. Together we spent the night at the hospital, watching Gran while she slept, and playing countless hands of rummy in the visitor lounge into the early hours of the morning. I can’t tell you how many times I yawned, but yet I still couldn’t bring myself to leave.

  I woke with my head resting on my arms on top of the side rail of Gran’s hospital bed. Harold had dozed off on the wooden foldout chair in the corner. His legs were crossed at the ankle, his head resting against the wall.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My mouth felt dry as sandpaper and just as gritty. A toothbrush was definitely in order. I reached in my pocket to look at my phone. It was just after eight o’clock in the morning. I yawned, and my necked cracked from side to side as I stretched out a bit. I wasn’t cut out to pull all-nighters anymore.

  But Gran was worth it.

  I took a good look at her. She looked much the same. The nursing staff had been in every couple of hours making sure all the drips were still running the way they should and that her vitals remained stable, and still she slept through it all.

  The only person missing was Hazel. I stood and walked to the door, opening it and looking out into the hallway. The thing about hospitals is that you never really know what time it is. Day or night, there are always people walking the corridors, talking in hushed tones. I found Hazel standing in the visitor lounge. A to-go cup of tea was in one hand, the tea bag string dangling over the side, while the other hand was over her heart. I looked at her and then to what she was watching. The television was broadcasting the morning news, and the normally chipper news program was doing a live segment at the airport. The headline read Woman Arrested at Rogers Airport. I joined Hazel and tuned in to the story. The camera quickly panned to the police officers who were lowering Gwen into the back of a squad car.

 

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