Already Home

by Susan Mallery

  The ebb and flow of visitors provided a rhythm to the days. There were stories about Serenity’s life, laughter and plenty of tears. Jenna found herself torn between wanting to be close to Serenity and wanting to get away.

  Violet came when she could, spending the evenings holding Dragon. Marshall stood by the door, watching it all, then slipping away to his study where the world was still normal. For Jenna, time went both too quickly and too slowly. As always, Beth was there, strong in her support.

  A week after Serenity had left the hospital, the hospice nurse walked into the kitchen.

  “Very soon,” she said. “I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Thank you,” Beth said, watching Jenna.

  Jenna nodded but found she couldn’t speak. “I’ll stay home today,” she managed at last. “I’ll tell Violet to close the store.”

  “Whatever you think is best.”

  A young guy walked in holding incense, asking for matches. Beth handed them over. When he was gone, she looked at Jenna.

  “I’m never going to get that smell out of the carpet.”

  Jenna smiled, then started to laugh. After a few seconds, the humor turned to tears.

  “I’m a wreck.”

  “You’re preparing for someone important in your life to die. Give yourself a break.”

  Jenna looked at her mother. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, hon. Now wipe your face. Serenity doesn’t want to see you cry.”

  She returned to Serenity’s room to the music playing and the candles burning. Serenity lay on her bed, her eyes closed, her breathing slow.

  Tom leaned over her and whispered something.

  She opened her eyes.

  “My children are all here,” she said, her voice weak. “Move closer. I want to see you.”

  Jenna found herself between Dragon and Wolf. Tom stood on the other side of the bed. They joined hands. Serenity studied each of them.

  “I’ve been very blessed,” she whispered. “I couldn’t ask for more.”

  She seemed to choke. Jenna started to move toward her only to realize her breathing had stopped. She waited, willing it to start again, but it never did. There was only silence.

  Someone put out the candles.

  Twenty-One

  Jenna didn’t wait for Serenity’s body to be removed by the local funeral home. Instead, as soon as Beth had called the hospice center, Jenna ducked out, racing to her car and driving away. She’d gone about three miles before realizing she didn’t know where to go or who to talk to. Everyone she knew and loved was back at the house.

  She drove aimlessly through Georgetown, thought about heading to Dallas and from there… Where was there to go? She knew she couldn’t outrun what had just happened—that she had to deal with it sometime. Just maybe not today. After nearly an hour, she found herself parking in front of the healing center where Ellington worked. She walked inside and introduced herself to the receptionist.

  The young woman looked at her. “You’re Serenity’s daughter?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

  Jenna nodded.

  “We just heard. I’m so sorry. I really loved your mom. She was very special.”

  Jenna didn’t bother pointing out Serenity wasn’t her mother. Somehow in the past few weeks, that had changed. She’d learned it was possible to have two mothers. Even if one of them had just died.

  “I’ll get Ellington,” the girl said, grabbed a tissue and walked to the back.

  A few minutes later, Ellington came up to the waiting area. Without saying anything, he took her hand and led her through the main hallway to a small patio next to his office. When they were alone in the dappled sunlight, he touched her cheek.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “I’m angry.”

  “At me?”

  “Partly.” She crossed her arms and turned her back on him. “It’s not just you,” she said dully. “It’s that everyone knew. Tom and Dragon and Wolf and Jasmine. They all knew and no one said anything.”

  “She’d asked them not to.”

  “You’d think one of them would have taken me aside and whispered a hint.” She spun back to him, remembering. “You hinted.”

  “No.”

  “You did. I remember. But I didn’t get it. I wasn’t expecting this.”

  Frustration built inside of her. She walked the length of the patio.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” she told him. “I’ve been asking and asking, why now? Why did she choose this moment to get in touch with me? Now I know. She wanted to meet me before she died, which I get. She claimed that I was important to her. She talked about me to my brothers and celebrated my birthday, but she never bothered to pick up the phone. How am I supposed to believe her? She said she was waiting for me to get in touch with her. So this is my fault?”

  Ellington didn’t answer her. It was not as though he had any miracle information to share.

  “If she wanted to know me, why did she wait so long? She could have contacted my parents years ago. Or me. I’m not that hard to find.”

  “Life takes different turns for different people,” he said quietly. “I can’t say what drove Serenity. Guilt maybe. I always wondered if she felt she didn’t deserve to know you—not after giving you up.”

  Deserve? “That’s crazy. She was a kid who got pregnant. She gave me to a warm, loving home. I don’t have any regrets.”

  “But you’re not the one who gave away your child. Serenity loved with her whole heart. She gave everything. Perhaps giving up a child made her look at herself in a way she didn’t like. Maybe it wasn’t about you so much as her.”

  “We’ll never know,” she said, feeling sick to her stomach. “I don’t like this. Any of it. If I’d known, I would have asked different questions. I would have asked for the truth.”

  “If she’d wanted you to know, she would have told you.”

  She whirled to face him. “That’s supposed to be good enough? I should believe that?”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t accept that.”

  “Not accepting doesn’t change what is.”

  “Don’t you dare go all guru on me, Ellington. You’ve had your tongue in my mouth.”

  He gave her a smile. “That puts things in perspective.”

  There was a moment when she didn’t feel quite so horrible, then the pain and anger descended, leaving her sad.

  “I don’t know what happens next,” she said. “Do I stay in touch with my birth family? Do I not?”

  “You don’t have to decide today.”

  “I’m just so mad at her for dying like that. For not making things clear.”

  “Would you rather not have known her?”

  A simple question, she thought, turning the words over in her mind. It would have made her life easier. She’d just been getting it all together when Serenity had shown up to mess it all up again.

  “No,” she whispered. “I don’t wish that.”

  “Then take what you were given and treasure it. You knew her. She touched your life and you touched hers.”

  She glared at him. “I swear to God, if you start talking about ripples in a pond, I’ll hit you.”

  “Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away.”

  “You need to stay away from the spiritual for a while. Get in touch with the real world. Go to Las Vegas for a week end.”

  “I’ll consider that.” He moved close and drew her into his arms. “You’re angry because she died. That’s normal.”

  “The first stage of grief?”

  “That, too. But in your case, you have legitimate reasons to be angry. My only concern is that you don’t let that over shadow the relationship you had with Serenity. You can remember what was good or wallow in what has you so pissed.

  The choice is yours.”

  He smelled clean and masculine. Familiar. “I don’t wallow.”

  “You were headed ther
e.”

  “I have all these feelings and I don’t know where to put them.”

  “Maybe they don’t belong anywhere but where they are right now.”

  “Churning inside of me?”

  “That’s as good a place as any.”

  She sighed. “You always tell me the truth. I like that about you.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “At the risk of having you hit me, I can’t regret having Serenity in either of our lives. Not only did I find her an amazing person, she brought us together.”

  “There is that.”

  He touched her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to lose you over this,” he said. “You won’t.”

  “I kept her secret.”

  “True, but I understand. Part of it because you’re a medical professional and you had to, legally. Part of it is because she asked you to. Integrity can be infuriating, but it’s important.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Reluctantly she stepped away. “I need to get back to the house. There are going to be a lot of details to take care of. I’m guessing the funeral will be in Napa.”

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

  “Good. You’ll call when you get back?”

  She nodded. “Promise.”

  Beth stood with Tom in the small apartment he and Serenity had rented. There were signs of Serenity everywhere. From the bright lavender sweater thrown over the back of a chair to the yoga mat rolled up in the corner. Flowers spilled out of several vases and a teacup still half-full of tea sat on the kitchen counter.

  Beth guided him to the sofa and urged him to sit. She went and searched for coffee. When she didn’t find any, she put water on to boil, then dug out some green tea bags. Quiet sobs drew her back.

  Tom sat where she’d left him, his head in his hands. The tall broad-shouldered man looked broken. She moved toward him, then sat on the ottoman so she could face him.

  He looked up at her, his face pale, his eyes dark with anguish. “I can’t do this. I can’t live without her. I’ve loved her my whole life.”

  She took both his hands in hers and squeezed. “You loved her and she loved you back. You had her complete heart. You made three beautiful children with her and now you have a grandchild on the way.”

  He dropped his head and began to cry. “I just want her back. She was too young, too full of life. I never wanted to believe this would happen. I told myself that she was different.” He paused to catch his breath. “I didn’t think she was going to die.”

  Beth swallowed her own tears. Tom’s pain was as tangible as the floor and as big as the sky. She didn’t bother trying to find the words to make it better. She knew they didn’t exist.

  The kettle began to whistle.

  She got up and returned to the kitchen where she poured boiling water into two mugs and dunked in the bags. The smell of the green tea nearly made her gag, but she carried both mugs into the living room and handed him one.

  “Thanks,” he said, sounding grateful. Tears still poured from his eyes.

  This time she settled next to him and put her mug on the coffee table.

  “I’ll get everything together here,” she said. “What won’t fit in the suitcases, I’ll ship back in boxes.” She hesitated. “Unless you want me to take care of her personal things.”

  He shuddered. “She has a few pieces of jewelry she wanted Jenna to have. They’re back home. Everything here…” He swallowed, then ducked his head again.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Beth said gently. She would get Dragon’s address and ship everything to him. He could take Serenity’s belongings over to his father when he was sure Tom could handle it.

  She patted Tom on the shoulder and walked into the bedroom of their small rented apartment.

  It only took a few minutes to pack up his clothes and toiletries. He and his sons were flying out that afternoon, with the funeral to follow in a few days. Marshall had arranged for their car to be delivered back to them using a moving service. It was already on its way.

  When she returned to the living room, Tom was sitting exactly as she’d left him. His misery filled the room, making her ache in sympathy.

  She sat with him until Wolf and Dragon arrived. Both young men looked as sad as their father.

  “Thanks for all your help,” Dragon said, giving her a quick hug. “We couldn’t have gotten through all this without you.”

  “Of course,” she said. She handed over the suitcase. “I’ll send everything else back after the funeral.” She looked at Dragon. “I thought I would send it to you.”

  He nodded. “Good idea.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet. “Send it to the office.”

  “I will.”

  Wolf went to his father and drew him to his feet. “Jasmine called. She’s in labor. We’re hoping for a girl, Dad.”

  Tom walked unsteadily. “Serenity would have liked to see your baby born.”

  “She’ll be there,” Wolf told him, wiping his face. “I know she’ll be in the room with us.” Tom nodded.

  When he reached the doorway, he turned back to Beth. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Jenna and I are flying in tomorrow morning. Let us know if you need anything.”

  “I’ll pick you up at the airport,” Dragon said.

  “You stay with your family. We’re renting a car. We’ll call when we land in San Francisco.”

  “All right.”

  She smiled at Wolf. “Please tell Jasmine I wish her the best with the baby.”

  “Thanks. The midwife says it’ll be a few hours yet. I should be home before the baby’s born.”

  Life went on, Beth thought. No matter how much anyone suffered, life went on.

  She walked them to Dragon’s rental car. When they were gone, she returned to her SUV and pulled out the boxes she’d brought.

  In less than an hour she’d packed up everything. When her car was loaded, she dropped off the keys with the landlord and drove to the post office to mail the boxes to Dragon. Then she returned home.

  The hospice people had been by that morning to take back the hospital bed and table. The chairs and sofa had been returned to their usual places. Except for a few plants in the corners and the incense and half-burned candles on the windowsill, the room was empty.

  Without having to close her eyes, Beth could hear the conversations, the laughter, the chanting, the tears. She remembered Serenity’s last breath and willed her spirit to a peaceful place. Then she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for her trip to California. When Marshall arrived home a little after five, she had dinner mostly made and his favorite martinis waiting in a pitcher.

  He smiled when he saw her, set his briefcase on one of the kitchen chairs, then crossed to her and kissed her.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “I’m okay. Getting through it.” She looked into his face. “I don’t tell you enough how much I love you. You’re a wonderful man, Marshall Stevens, and I’m very fortunate to have you in my life.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” he said.

  She smiled. “I wish that were true, but it’s not. You’re everything to me. I want you to promise you’ll never die.”

  “Sweet Beth.”

  He kissed her again, this time lingering in that special way of his. The one that always made her stomach flip and her insides tingle.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.

  Which wasn’t exactly the same but would have to do, she told herself. “I’m not going anywhere, either.”

  Serenity’s funeral was as unexpected as her arrival in Jenna’s life had been. On a warm, early-summer afternoon, nearly three hundred people gathered in an old church to celebrate a life cut too short.

  Jenna
stood with Beth, just behind the row with Tom, Dragon, Wolf, Jasmine and baby Serenity. The infant had been born two hours after her daddy had arrived home and nearly forty-eight hours to the minute after her grandmother had died.

  Friends and neighbors filled the church and spilled out onto the lawn where loudspeakers carried the service to those who wouldn’t fit inside.

  A minister spoke first, followed by a man in a robe. Jenna had a feeling many religions were represented as people spoke kindly of Serenity, telling stories that indicated she had known each of them. Dragon and Wolf talked about how much she had loved them and how she had been loved in return. Jenna had said she didn’t want to say anything, and now, as she listened to other people talk about the woman she’d barely known, she was grateful to remain silent. She didn’t regret having known her biological mother. She couldn’t. She was a part of Serenity, and Serenity would always be a part of her. They were connected by more than biology. Serenity was her mother. How could she put those feelings into words?

  After the funeral, everyone made their way to the family home. Jenna had already spent most of the morning cooking food from Serenity’s stash of favorite recipes. She had made a lentil salad, sweet potatoes with curried beans, cookies and a whipped dessert called “Apricot Fluff.”

  She and Beth ducked into the kitchen to bring out what had been made only to find every inch of surface covered with casserole dishes. There were instructions on all of them, along with notes to Tom and his sons about how the cook had felt about Serenity.

  “These are wonderful,” Beth said. She dug around in a couple of drawers, then pulled out some paper and a pen. “I’m going to copy the notes and take them home with me. I can print them up in different fonts, then make a scrapbook for Tom.”

  “He would love that.”

  “Poor man.” Beth read the nearest note, then started copying. “He’s going to have a tough time.”

  “They all are.”

  Beth looked up at her. “Are you all right?”

  Jenna nodded. “Thanks for coming with me, Mom. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “I’m happy to be here. You know I’d do anything for you.”