Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)

Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3) Page 12

Tears welled in her eyes and she rested her head against the back of the garden chair and swallowed a wail of grief. Susannah would do it. She’d seen that glint in her daughter’s eye. She’d seen the determined set of Susannah’s mouth. Even as a child, Susannah had been stubborn, often to the extent of foolishness, defying George at every turn. Her only living child would haul her off to an asylum, all the while declaring that it was for Vivian’s own good.

Exhausted, she finally closed her eyes and slowly rocked, letting the gentle movement lull her into a state of relaxation.

“Vivian.”

Someone was calling her. A quiet voice far off in the distance. Was it in her mind? Or was it real? Vivian strained to hear. It was her George; she knew that much. George struggling to come to her, struggling to cross the great divide.

Vivian’s heart rate accelerated as she opened her eyes. “Yes, George, I’m here—I need your help.” She hurried to tell him everything. “Susannah wants to move me into an assisted-living facility. What should I do…Tell me, what should I do?” She waited but no one answered.

“George, please! I need you to tell me what to do.”

Her cry was met with silence. She peered into the shadowed corners of the garden but saw no sign of him.

Sobbing openly now, Vivian began to rock back and forth but found little solace. She closed her eyes again, and it was then that she heard a single word float past her, soft as a whisper.

One word that would change her world. One word that told her what she had to do. One word from George. She’d asked and he’d answered.

George told her to go.

CHAPTER 8

Chrissie Nelson stared at the silent telephone and cursed it for the umpteenth time that day. No one had phoned, not even her best friends. Everyone was either vacationing or working, and she was trapped at home and she hated it.

Getting a job, any job now, was pointless and nearly impossible. She couldn’t even work at her father’s dental office, not that she really wanted to. She’d done that the previous summer and it hadn’t gone well. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as reliable as he thought she should be; apparently he was still annoyed about the days she’d disappeared after lunch, because he hadn’t offered her a part-time position this summer—not even as a last resort. Her job, he said, was cooking and cleaning, and he was supposedly paying her. He didn’t have enough money in his account to give her what she felt this was worth.

Chrissie would much rather be with her grandmother. She’d always been close to her Grandma Vivian, and she hadn’t seen her since the funeral and everything had been so upsetting then. Grandma had been so brave when the family left. Chrissie remembered seeing tears running down her grandmother’s face as the family car pulled out of the driveway and then she’d started crying, too. It’d been so hard to leave her behind. Chrissie’s heart ached for her—and all at once she knew what she had to do. She had to go to her Grandma Vivian. That was where she wanted to be, where she needed to be. Somehow she’d find a way.

Determined now, Chrissie reached for the phone and dialed her grandmother’s number in Colville. After four rings she assumed no one was home, but just as she began to hang up, her mother answered.

“Hi, Mom, it’s Chrissie.” She forced a bright cheerful note into her voice.

“Chrissie. You’re lucky to catch me. I was outside watering Grandma’s garden.”

“What’s going on?” she asked, wondering how to lead into the subject of joining her mother.

Her mother seemed preoccupied. “Grandma and I just got back from visiting assisted-living places.”

“Grandma went willingly?” So progress had been made.

“Your grandmother was willing to listen to reason this morning.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Very good. This is difficult for her. I don’t know what made her change her mind but whatever it was, I’m grateful.”

“Where’s Grandma now?” Chrissie asked.

“She’s lying down at the moment, thinking everything over.”

In other words, she was taking a nap.

“I had a great idea I wanted to talk to you about, okay?” Chrissie hated sounding like a little kid afraid of being refused, but she sensed that her mother wasn’t going to like this idea.

“Sure. What is it?”

“Dad mentioned that you were planning to rent Grandma’s house or maybe sell it right away.”

“Yes.” Her mother seemed reluctant. “It’s one of the nicer homes in town and I’m not sure it would be wise to bring in renters, especially since we won’t be able to keep an eye on the place.” She seemed to be thinking out loud, weighing her options.

“Either way, you’re going to have to pack everything up, right?”

“True.”

“So you could use some help.”

Her mother didn’t answer immediately, which probably meant she’d caught on to where Chrissie’s questions were leading. She might as well get directly to the point. “Can I come to Colville?” Her mother’s hesitation was long enough to raise Chrissie’s hackles.

“You don’t want me there, do you?” she asked hotly.

“That’s not it.”

“I can help, you know.”

“Yes…”

“Then tell me why I can’t come. It’s boring around here and everyone I know either has a job or is on some fabulous vacation while I’m a prisoner in this house scrubbing toilets.” That wasn’t an exaggeration, either. “Don’t you think it’s time you hired a housekeeper?”

“Your father did,” her mother reminded her in a mild voice. “You.”

“Very funny,” Chrissie muttered. “Very funny.”

“Your father needs you there.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Chrissie argued. “No one does. This summer is a complete waste. I want to be with you and Grandma.” Her throat started to tighten up and she made an effort to hide how miserable she was.

“And do what?” her mother asked.

Chrissie sighed. “I already told you. Help pack stuff and spend time with Grandma.”

“But everything has to be sorted. I’ll have to decide what to keep, what to sell and what to give away. I don’t think my mother’s capable of doing any of that, so I’ll be the one making those decisions. I’ve got to get your grandmother moved, too.” Her mother sounded overwhelmed by it all.

If that was the case, Chrissie couldn’t understand why she balked at her offer. “Well, then, I can be with you when you do it.”

“This isn’t a vacation, Chrissie. This is hard work.”

Sometimes her mother could insult her without realizing it. “I know that. I can help, Mom. What do you think—I’ll watch television all day? This is a difficult time for you and Grandma.”

“It really is.” Her mother’s voice quavered a little. “I had no idea it would be so difficult.”

“Moving Grandma?”

“Yes…”

“Then I can come?” The pleading tone was back, but Chrissie didn’t care. She felt it was her right to be with her grandmother.

“Let me talk to your father first.”

Chrissie clenched her teeth, not knowing what to expect from him. It would be just like her dad to insist she stay in Seattle. She couldn’t; she absolutely couldn’t do that. If she had to deal with her brother and father all summer, she’d go crazy. But that wasn’t even the issue. Her grandmother needed her and so did her mom, and she needed to be with them. No, the decision was made. Chrissie was going to Colville whether she had permission or not.

CHAPTER 9

The house was eerily quiet as Susannah settled in front of the television. After four very long days, the move was complete. Her mother was about to spend her first night at the assisted-living complex. This single day had felt like an entire month.

The movers had arrived at eight that morning, eager to get the truck loaded. By the time everything had been set up in her tiny four-hundred-square-foot apartment, her mother was exhausted. So was Susannah.

The staff at Altamira had been wonderful. The forms were all signed and delivered, financial arrangements made and Dr. Bethel had given his written instructions. Once her mother had agreed to the move, it was as if everything had fallen naturally into place. In fact, they were fortunate that there’d been a unit available. Another sign, in Susannah’s opinion, that this really was meant to be.

It was dark now, after ten, and Susannah should be more than ready to collapse into bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. The house was a shambles. Drawers open, cupboards, too. The floors were littered with remnants of her mother’s life and, in many ways, Susannah’s own. Emotion was close to the surface and grew closer with every minute.

Susannah realized she should phone her family and then go to bed, but sleep would be impossible. Nor did she feel like escaping into mindless television. She stood and wandered aimlessly from room to room, thinking she should sort through a few things, start packing what had been left. But her back hurt and her heart hurt and she’d never felt more alone.

The whole situation was just so painful. Yes, she knew it was the right decision for all involved—but then why was she feeling this relentless guilt?

The phone rang and she glanced at it, not sure she was up to answering. Her father had believed caller ID was an unnecessary expense so she could only speculate who’d be phoning this late at night. It was probably her daughter, but Susannah didn’t have the energy to cope with more of Chrissie’s entreaties and complaints. Turning away, she decided not to answer. Then she changed her mind and impulsively grabbed the receiver.

“Hello.” She kept her tone as level as possible.

“Hi, it’s Carolyn. I’m sorry to call so late but—”

“Carolyn.” Susannah didn’t bother to disguise her relief.

“How’d the move go?”

Susannah leaned against the kitchen wall and wrapped the long cord around her elbow. Her father hadn’t believed in cordless phones, either. “Pretty well—except that Mom hates it already. She put on a good front but I could see how unhappy she was.”

“I tried phoning a couple of times, and I wondered when there wasn’t any answer.”

“I stayed with Mom until she went to bed.” Susannah stared out the dark kitchen window as she tried to make sense of all the emotions churning inside her. “I couldn’t make myself leave. Mom seemed so small and broken—as if her life was over.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I was aware that the move would be difficult for her, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be for me.” She couldn’t restrain a low sob, and it embarrassed her. Susannah wasn’t the type of woman who gave in to tears easily and yet here she was, an emotional mess.

“Is there anything I can do?” Carolyn asked.

Susannah was grateful for her friend’s sympathy. “No…it’s just that I feel so awful about doing this to Mom, even though I know it was necessary.” She paused. “I don’t want to be the one making these decisions.”