Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)

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

“How do you mean?” Susannah asked. Joe walked over to the coffeepot and poured himself a mug while watching her.

She knew. Deep down, Susannah had known for weeks that her mother was having problems. She’d sensed changes in Vivian even before her father’s death.

“I realize you talk to your mother a lot and I don’t mean to be putting my nose in where it doesn’t belong. Al said I should mind my own business, but then this evening…”

“What happened this evening?” Susannah asked, suddenly nervous.

“I’m sure you’re aware that Vivian hasn’t adjusted well to losing your father.”

“I know.” Her mother was often weepy and sad, talking endlessly about George and how desperately she missed him. Susannah had driven across the mountains to visit over spring break but had only been able to stay four days. Vivian had clung to her, pleaded with her to remain in Colville longer, but Susannah couldn’t. Driving there and back meant the better part of two days, and that left only one day to prepare for school.

Susannah had tried to talk her mother into moving to Seattle, but Vivian had stubbornly refused to consider it. She didn’t want to leave Colville, where she’d been born and raised. Her surviving friends all lived in the small town sixty-three miles north of Spokane.

“Something happened this evening?” Susannah repeated, wanting Rachel to get to the point.

“I know this may shock you, but your mother asked me to help her find George.”

“What?” Susannah’s eyes shot to Joe. “She thinks my dad’s alive?”

“She claims she saw him.”

“Oh, no,” Susannah muttered.

“She was wandering down the street, looking confused. I got worried, so I went after her. Then she started talking all this nonsense about George—how he brought her home and then disappeared. When was the last time you saw her?”

“March.” Susannah knew she needed to visit Colville more often, but she hadn’t been able to make it during the last few months. Between Brian’s sports, other commitments, including a teaching workshop, and social engagements, there hadn’t been a single free weekend. Guilt felt like a lead weight dragging her down. “I planned to drive over this weekend. School’s out for the summer and I’m going to spend a couple of weeks with Mom.”

“That’s wise,” Mrs. Henderson said. “She’s lost weight, you know.”

Her mother was barely a hundred and ten pounds when Susannah had seen her in March.

“I don’t think she cooks anymore,” her neighbor went on.

During her visit, Vivian had asked her to make dinner every night. Susannah hadn’t minded and the shelves certainly seemed to be well stocked. Although Susannah had noticed a number of gourmet items her mother had never purchased before. Like fancy mustards. And sun-dried tomatoes in pesto, which Susannah had used in a pasta sauce.

“You mean she isn’t eating?” Susannah clarified.

“Not much, as far as I can tell. I keep inviting her over for dinner, but she refuses every time. I’m not the only one she’s refused, either. She seems to be holed up in the house and barely comes out, except to work in her garden.”

“But…why?” Her mother had always been social, enjoying the company of others, hosting parties for George and their friends.

“You’ll have to ask her that.”

“But on the phone she talks as if she sees you quite a bit,” Susannah said. It wasn’t like her mother to lie.

“Oh, yes, we chat over the fence, but I swear…” Mrs. Henderson paused. “Sometimes I’m not sure your mother knows who I am.”

“Oh, dear.” This was what Susannah feared most. Her mother was losing her memory, and it seemed due to more than the erosion of old age.

“Another thing,” Mrs. Henderson said, hesitating again.

“Go on,” Susannah urged.

“The other day when I went to check on her, I found her sitting in the dark. Turns out she forgot to pay the electric bill. She felt embarrassed about it, and I don’t think she’d like me saying anything to you, but I felt you should know.”

Susannah groaned inwardly. These were the very things she’d worried about. Bills unpaid, the stove left on, meals and appointments forgotten.

“Not to worry,” Mrs. Henderson rushed to add. “I helped her get it straightened out and her lights are back on. Like I said, she told me you’d be visiting soon and I thought I’d talk to you then, but this business with her seeing George—now, that’s got me worried.”

It worried Susannah, too. She wished Mrs. Henderson had contacted her earlier. “I tried to talk to Mom about moving into assisted living when I was there in the spring.”

“Yes, she told me. It upset her something fierce that you were going to kick her out of her own house.”

“She said that?” Susannah’s stomach tightened. She was hurt that her mother would even think such a thing, let alone voice it to a neighbor.

“Yes, but quite honestly, Susannah, I don’t feel she should be on her own any longer.”

Susannah should’ve insisted back in March, but she hadn’t felt she could take her mother out of her home so soon after a major loss. She’d had enough upheaval in her life. Evidently it’d been a mistake not to act sooner.

Susannah ran one hand through the soft curls that had fallen onto her forehead.

“It might be best if you came right away,” Mrs. Henderson suggested. “I would’ve phoned you myself, but Al said I should keep out of it. Seeing that you phoned me, well, I figured I’d better tell you what’s going on with your mother. I hope that’s okay?” she asked anxiously.

“I’m grateful you told me,” Susannah said. “I’ll drive over as soon as I can make arrangements.”

After a brief farewell, Susannah replaced the receiver. Joe leaned against the counter, still watching her, coffee mug in hand.

“I’m afraid it’s worse than I thought,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “Apparently she’s wandering around the neighborhood looking for my father.”

Joe released a low whistle. “You’re going over right away, then?” Originally Susannah had intended to wait for the weekend.

“I guess that would be for the best.” Then, thinking out loud, she added, “I don’t have any choice but to put her in an assisted-living facility.”

“I agree.”

Susannah pinched the bridge of her nose, dreading the approaching confrontation. Her mother would fight her on this. She didn’t doubt that for a minute.

“Do you want me to go with you? Perhaps the two of us will be able to talk some sense into her.”

Susannah shook her head.

“You’re sure?” He frowned as though disappointed. “You were wonderful when my parents died, Suze. I want to be there for you.”

For a moment Susannah was afraid she’d cry. “No…I need to do this on my own. I’ve decided,” she said, the idea taking shape in her mind as she spoke, “that I’ll stay in Colville for a while.” Although it was crazy to even consider the idea, she might be able to find out where Jake was living. She had to talk to him, had to find out what had happened and why. Susannah knew her father had something to do with the breakup; she just didn’t know the details. Maybe, once she learned the truth, she could put an end to this fantasizing about Jake.

“Okay.” Joe sighed heavily. “But after you convince her to move, you’ll have to make a decision about the house.”

Susannah hadn’t even thought of that. All at once the task seemed overwhelming.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Joe asked.

She didn’t meet his eyes while she contemplated spending time in Colville. “Three weeks should do it, I imagine. Possibly a month.”

“That long?”

“It isn’t going to be easy to talk my mother into leaving her home,” she said. “And there’s the matter of arranging assisted-living accommodation for her. And cleaning the house. Whether I decide to rent it or put it on the market, either way it’ll need to be cleared out.”

“I could help. Brian, too.”

“No, I can manage.” She appreciated the offer, but she wanted to spend time with her mother—just the two of them. Not only that, she had a private agenda concerning Jake, an agenda she couldn’t confide to her husband. She had to resolve that problem on her own. If Joe and Brian were there, she’d be torn between her present and her past. “Perhaps on the weekends, if you want.” As a dentist, Joe couldn’t change his appointment schedule at the last minute.

“Brian and I have our fishing trip scheduled for next weekend, but we can cancel that.”

“No, don’t,” she protested. It was hard enough for the two of them to find time together.

Joe nodded. “Then we’ll try to come one weekend after that.” He put down his coffee mug and glanced at her, a half smile on his face. “I have a feeling you’re going to learn a lot more than you expected from all of this.”

Susannah suspected he was right.

CHAPTER 3

Chrissie Nelson shoved the last of her clothes into her suitcase and looked anxiously out her dorm room window. Jason was late. He’d promised to be here by ten to take her to the airport. School was over and the dorm was mostly deserted. She’d be flying out of Eugene, where she attended the University of Oregon, to Seattle for the summer. The end of the school year didn’t thrill her, mostly because she’d be leaving Jason behind. She wasn’t like some of her friends, eager to return home. In fact, Chrissie dreaded the emptiness that lay ahead.

Pushing her long straight blond hair over her shoulder, she suppressed a deep sigh. Her roommate, Katie Robertson, had left the night before, and so had several of her other friends. Jason had driven Katie to the airport, but Chrissie’s flight wasn’t until today. He’d stopped by the dorm after he’d dropped Katie off; he and Chrissie had gone out for a farewell drink and he’d promised to meet her in plenty of time for her 11:30 flight. When he’d picked Katie up, he’d arrived with two hours to spare—and he’d waited with her at the airport. Chrissie had a niggling sensation that he’d been more solicitous than necessary….

That made it sound as if she was jealous and she wasn’t. Jason had never given Chrissie the slightest reason to doubt his devotion. He was simply thoughtful. Latching her suitcase closed, she grunted as she lifted it off the mattress with both hands and set it on the floor.

The problem with going home for the summer was that she didn’t have a job. And at this late date, the prospects of decent employment were slim to none.

She was almost twenty and still tied to her parents. Chrissie hated that. The idea of being at home for the next eight or ten weeks—and dependent on her parents for spending money—depressed her. She preferred to stay in Eugene, but her part-time job on campus had ended with the semester. Next year everything would be different; Chrissie intended to make sure of that. This would be her last summer in Seattle. She was an adult, and she wanted to live her own life.