Page 91 of Second Chance

37

You Frustrate Me

[Mati]

I awake alone. Denton’s shoes are gone as is the pile of clothing once covering the chair in the corner. I pull the sheet to my chest before exiting the bed and find my clothing still on the floor. I haven’t done the walk of shame since my short time as a college freshman, and this will be only slightly more embarrassing. I have no idea if anyone else knows I’m here or how things are progressing with Caroline. After Denton told me she passed, and we…well, we didn’t discuss what was next for her or us.

Feeling slightly unclean wearing the same clothes as the day before, I slowly open the door. Down the long hall, the door to Caroline’s room stands open. There’s movement in the room which must have open shades as bright sunlight streams out into the hallway. I walk in that direction hoping to find Denton, but a heavy lump in my stomach tells me he isn’t here.

“Hello,” I say softly, peeking into the room. Caroline is gone. The equipment mostly removed.

“Hello.” Vivian, the nurse, looks up from rolling a chord around her fist.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I offer, feeling useless standing here watching her hustle around the room, but I have no idea how I can assist her.

“Hospice handles everything, honey. Miss Caroline was removed early this morning, and the machinery went next. I’m just doing a final sweep.”

“Oh.” I nod. “Have you seen Denton?”

“He mentioned heading to the Lodge.”

“Thank you.” The lump in my stomach weighs like a boulder. Slowly, I make my way down the staircase. No trace of breakfast or coffee consumption litters the kitchen. It looks just as I left it last night. I have no idea how I’ll get home, and I reach for my phone in my purse. Maybe one of the boys can come to get me, I think as I walk the wide hall to the front doors. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure sitting in the shadows of the front parlor.

“Miss Magnolia?”

She doesn’t look up at me, and for a moment, I think she’s sleeping sitting upright. I cross the room cautiously and then pause before her.

“Miss Magnolia,” I repeat, lowering myself to crouch by her knees. Her pop bottle glasses mutate her eyes, but she blinks when I come into her view. “Miss Magnolia, can I do something for you?”

“A mother should never have to bury her child.” Her elderly voice scratches as she speaks. I nod in agreement, but I’m not certain how to respond. “She should have had a second chance.”

I continue to stare up at her from my position. Many would agree Mrs. Caroline Chance deserved a second round at love, but if what I remember from Denton is true, she had a few rounds at it and lost them all.

“What can I do for you?” I ask.

“I should have gone first. I’m older. I’m ready.” She blinks, and a single tear slips down her cheek. I worry she’s been sitting here all night, maybe witnessing the removal of her daughter’s body.

“Where’s Dolores?” I question, feeling like family will understand better how to handle Magnolia’s grief.

“Rosalyn’s coming,” she says, ignoring my question. “Haven’t seen my other girl in a long time, but now she’ll come.” Magnolia’s voice turns bitter, and I recognize the name of Denton and Dolores’s aunt.

“She should be here,” I offer, hoping the words sound supportive.

“She should have been here a long time ago. Just like him.” I don’t have to ask who Magnolia means. She’s referring to Denton and his absence from his mother’s life even after Kip died.

“He’s here now,” I weakly defend.

“He’s already planning on leaving. Got some meeting in New York City in a few days.” Magnolia waves her hand to dismiss her grandson, and the lump in my gut bottoms out. Nausea rises to my throat.

“Well, let’s take one day at a time,” I suggest, reaching up to pat Magnolia’s knee with strength I don’t feel.

“One day at a time,” Magnolia mutters as if speaking to herself, reassuring herself of the steps through grief. The stages of grieving and I are old friends. I stand, looking down at the frail woman I’ve always admired for her strength and dedication to family—a family that wasn’t always loyal to her.

“You let me know if you need anything, Miss Magnolia,” I offer once again, and she flicks her wrist to dismiss me. Her head shifts left, and she peers toward the enclosed side porch. The door remains closed against the cool air temperature outside, but sunshine dances through the screen.

I step away from her feeling guilty for not being able to offer her more support, but relief at finding a way out of this house of sadness. Seeing myself out to the front porch, I begin dialing Jordan’s number when a red-haired man dressed in leather rounds the corner of the house. Crusty Rusty.

My heart swells a little with the hope he comforted Dolores in her time of need. Instantly, I think back to the comfort I offered Denton last night. I shiver with a combination of pleasure and disappointment at his absence. Watching Rusty, he walks straight to his bike and flips a leg over the seat.