Triple Shot

by Ava Riley

  “Is everything okay?” Josiah said as he reached for his clothes and began to dress also.

  “Um, yeah, I just need to go meet someone. Sorry to have to kick you out so early in the morning,” she said as she snatched a pair of tan sandals from underneath her bed.

  Josiah stopped her as she moved about the room almost aimlessly. “Susan, who do you have to meet at three in the morning?”

  Susan sat on the bed, her sandals slipping from the grip she had on them. “I can’t, Josiah.”

  “You can’t what? Go see this person? Are you in some kind of trouble? If so, Susan I’ll go with you.”

  “No. I can’t talk to you about this. I’m sorry, but I need to leave now,” she said as she pushed her feet into her sandals and sluggishly raised herself from the bed tucking her phone into her back pocket.

  Josiah finished buttoning up his jeans as he followed Susan down the hall to the living room to retrieve his shirt and boots along with his other belongings. “Look, I don’t know who that was, but apparently it’s not good news, so let me just go with you,” he said as Susan ushered them out the door, locking it behind them.

  “Josiah, please don’t. I don’t want you coming with me. I’ll call you if I get a chance.”

  “Today?”

  Susan just shook her head as they made their way to the parking lot. Without so much as even a hug goodbye, she left Josiah standing next to his car as she rushed to hers and drove from the parking lot faster than the fifteen miles per hour allotted to vehicles. Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the well lit parking lot of Long Beach’s Emergency Room. The last time she’d been here, Madison had been sick and Josiah had driven her home. That had been the first time she allowed herself to cry and now she had a feeling she’d be having a repeat of that night.

  Letting out a deep breath, she pulled into an empty parking space, threw the car in park, and sat while her mind tried to grasp what awaited her. If her mother was okay, her father would have told her over the phone, she reasoned. Most likely, he would have waited until a decent time in the morning to call her and fill her in. But he hadn’t waited, and he’d barely had the voice to tell her to come to the hospital.

  Shutting off the car and willing herself to exit, she pushed her keys into her front pocket after locking it and made the short trek across the lot. The swish of the sliding glass doors to the emergency room welcomed her with the heaviness of the sick and dying. The weight of sadness that encompassed her came not from the way she’d just entered, but from within herself. Knowing that tonight may be the end of what she and her father had endured for so long. She rushed over to the nurse’s station to get the information needed as to her mother’s whereabouts; she glanced to her right into the waiting room surprised that so many people were sitting in chairs waiting at such an ungodly hour. With a quick scan of the room, she noticed that several small children were wrapped in their mother’s arms, waiting their turn to be seen by the medical staff. Apparently sickness had no regard for time or person.

  The young nurse, who sat behind the counter littered with clipboards awaiting the next patient, couldn’t be any older than twenty-two or twenty-three. Susan found it odd that someone so young could work in such a depressing environment. She had her red hair pulled up into a tight ponytail, and stared at a computer screen as her fingers glided over the keyboard. The clicking sound of her fingernails against the keys echoed in the open space. She paused a moment from her work and looked at Susan.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes, I need to find out what room Sharon Lismore is in. I’m her daughter,” Susan added before the inevitable question of what her relationship to the patient was asked.

  The redhead’s fingers quickly went to work on the keyboard then just as quickly came to a halt. “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” she said as she hurried off behind the secured doors to the examining rooms without any explanation to Susan.

  It seemed as if time had stood still with no sight of the nurse or anyone else, when in reality after Susan checked her watch again, it had been less than five minutes between the time the nurse left her seat to when her father shuffled his feet in her direction. His aged faced had been pulled down further than she thought possible while his shoulders rolled forward making him look as if he were physically unable to straighten himself at the waist. The last spark of hope that she’d seen the last time she’d been with him had now been replaced with a void that Susan had been dreading seeing for months. She didn’t need to hear him say the words, his body spoke volumes to the news he bore. In all honesty, she didn’t want to hear him say anything. She wanted to get in her car and drive until she had no place to drive. She wanted to turn back the hands of time and get all the months that had been taken from her, all the time that had been snatched from her mother as her mind and body deteriorated. But Susan knew that wouldn’t happen and she needed to face the reality of it now.

  “Daddy,” she whispered as she placed her palm in his outstretched hand. “Where’s mom?”

  “Gone,” was the only word he uttered before he pulled Susan into his embrace.

  A barrage of emotions flooded her. Relief that her mother no longer would suffer and her father would finally be able to start taking care of himself properly. But mostly she felt guilt. Guilt that what she’d wished for so long had finally come true and no longer would she have to watch her mother wither away. Guilt because instead of being with her mother when she took her last breath, she found herself naked in the arms of man she barely knew. And sadness, because she’d never spend another weekend with her mother, even if it had only been to sit with little conversation with a woman who couldn’t even remember giving birth to her. Susan welcomed her father’s embrace both disgraced by her own desires and relieved that neither she nor her father would carry the burden of her mother’s sickness any longer.

  Chapter 23

  Susan pulled the quilt that had been her mother’s while at the nursing facility up to her chin as she lay on her couch. With her knees pulled up to her chest, she lay on her side focusing on nothing in particular. The sofa had become her place of comfort, at least the little comfort she did find, since the night her mother died. It didn’t feel right sleeping in the bed she’d spent the night in with Josiah as her father sat by her mother’s side in the emergency room watching as she slipped from this world. The bed had been a constant reminder to Susan of her selfishness, knowing that she should have been with her mother that night, not in the arms of some man. The shame she felt for her allowing her own self-interest to shuck her duties to her family on a night that should have found her in their company unnerved her like nothing before. She would never be able to go back and right the wrong against her family, and Josiah would always be a reminder to her that she failed them terribly.

  The funeral didn’t take place right away, although Susan wanted it to be done quickly. They’d had to put if off so her Aunt Marjorie, her mother’s sister, could fly in from Italy to be present for the service. Her aunt wanted to speak at the funeral and so Susan put aside her own wants once again to accommodate her family. Since her aunt had arrived yesterday, the funeral was scheduled to take place in two days and Susan found herself counting down the forty-eight hours until she could put some closure on her mother’s passing.

  ****

  For the past week, Susan had avoided all contact with the outside world, other than her father along with the funeral home staff as they made arrangements and, of course, Tessa. After several unanswered and unreturned calls, Tessa had stood on the other side of Susan’s door demanding she open it because, as she so adamantly put it, she wasn’t going anywhere. Susan was thankful for Tessa’s tenacity because despite the fact that Susan kept telling herself she didn’t want the company, having Tessa there eased her pain somewhat. Apparently the morning Susan had left Josiah standing in front of her apartment complex, he’d called Tessa right away to let her know about the phone call and her quick exit. She shoul
d have known he wouldn’t have let her odd behavior go on without filling Tessa in on the situation as he perceived it.

  Josiah had spent the first couple days after her mother’s passing calling and texting, but Susan couldn’t bring herself to answer any of them. She’d already let him become a diversion from so much and she couldn’t afford any more distractions from him. Her father needed her more than any other time and she had to stay focused on him now. The grief he bore made it almost impossible for him to even function. Susan had taken on the task of making all the arrangements for the funeral. She set up an account at the bank for donations to the nursing facility’s Alzheimer’s unit her mother had been in, and made sure all out of town family members had a place to stay or at least had the information needed for local hotels. Susan had her hands full and adding Josiah to the mix wasn’t something she was prepared to handle.

  A knock at the door pulled Susan from the constant to do list that had been running through her mind for the past week. She shucked off the quilt and shuffled her feet to the door. Like clockwork, Tessa stood on the other side. Susan opened the door just as she had every day for the past week at four in the afternoon. And just as she had the past week, Tessa stood with take-out knowing full well that Susan wouldn’t take the time to eat if she didn’t bring her food.

  Susan neatly folded the quilt and draped it on the back of the couch as Tessa pulled little white cardboard boxes from the bags. Ming’s Chinese was on the menu tonight.

  Tessa broke the silence they’d come accustom to as they ate. “Have you talked to Josiah lately?” she asked just before she shoved a fork full of noodles in her mouth.

  Susan shook her head. The calls and texts had actually stopped after yesterday morning. The last text had come across her phone at nine in the morning, asking if she needed anything and to let him help any way he could. She kept telling herself she should be happy he finally gave up, constantly giving herself reminders that she needed to concentrate on her father not her own life right now.

  “He’s just worried about you,” Tessa said in between bites.

  “I can’t be with him right now. Honestly, I don’t even know that I ever want to see him again,” Susan responded, angry at the situation she found herself in. This was not the storyline she’d hoped for her life. Her life should have been filled with happiness and joy, and parents who would live to see their grandchildren grow up. She shouldn’t be planning her mother’s funeral or putting her life on hold because her father couldn’t handle the loss of his wife. Yet, it was where she sat and she’d be damned if she’d let her father down again.

  “Well, maybe after everything settles down-”

  “And when will that be? After my father dies? In ten, fifteen years when my life isn’t sucked dry by every shitty thing that could possibly go wrong?” Susan asked as she stood and walked to the window overlooking the parking lot. All the anger and hurt that she’d kept bottled up for months seeped out of her pores and poured out without her permission.

  Susan felt the brush of Tessa’s shoulder against hers. “No, once you’ve done what you need to do to get through the funeral and the next few weeks of coming to terms with what’s happened. You have someone waiting for you to give you some happiness in the midst of the shitty, you know,” Tessa said.

  “I was with him the night she died. Here in this apartment. He made me forget everything for a short time and it cost me the chance of saying goodbye to her.”

  Tessa turned Susan to face her and shook her head. “You don’t know that you would have had that chance whether he was here or not. You said your father didn’t call you until she was already gone.”

  “It doesn’t even matter now,” Susan said stepping away from Tessa. “He stopped trying to contact me, which is really all the better for both of us.” She lowered herself to the sofa, pushing at the food before her, unable to stomach another bite. They sat without another word spoken between them. Tessa stayed as long as she could, her mere presence a comfort that Susan unapologetically accepted.

  When Tessa finally pushed herself from the sofa to leave, she asked Susan to consider taking a moment to speak to Josiah. Just to reassure him that she was okay, she’d said. Susan assured her that she would consider, but pushed the idea from her mind as soon as the words left her lips. She had a visitation and a funeral to deal with at the moment and the dread of both weighed heavy on her mind and heart. Susan needed to get past the next two days before she could put any thought into anything else.

  Setting the deadbolt after Tessa left, she cleaned off the coffee table, placing the leftovers in the refrigerator then finding the familiar fetal position as she pulled her mother’s quilt over the expanse of her body and closed her eyes for another day.

  Chapter 24

  Josiah stood at the rear of the Methodist church while Susan’s aunt spoke of the beautiful person her sister had been in this life. A large framed picture of a vibrant woman in her mid-fifties with flowing long blond hair, much the same as Susan’s, and a quirky smile sat next to the silver coffin in the center aisle at the front of the church for all to see. Atop it sat a bouquet of yellow and red roses.

  Susan hadn’t invited him to the funeral. As a matter of fact, she’d not even returned any of his calls, but Tessa and Rowan had both convinced him that he should be there. When he’d watched Susan walk down the aisle and greeted those who came to pay their respects, he’d wanted to rush up to her and take her into his arms. He wanted, even now, to be the one sitting next to her with a comforting arm around her as she wiped at the tears that soaked her cheeks while her aunt spoke. She’d not asked him to come be the comfort she needed though. So, he stood as far away from everyone as he could, behind the last row of pews in the shadows he found there and waited for the service to come to an end.

  Fifteen minutes later, after her aunt spoke her last words, the song Save a Place for Me, played over the church’s sound system. As the words “I have asked the questions why/But I guess the answers for another time/So instead I pray/with every tear/And be thankful for the time I had you here” filled the small church, Susan’s shoulders shuddered with each note. He wanted to rip the speakers from the walls, wanted to whisk her away from the hurt and anguish she felt and to encompass her within the warmth of his embrace. As he stood by helplessly watching her, an ache welled up into his throat and he was unable to push it away. The pain of watching Susan deal with her loss without him there was almost unbearable. He hated seeing her like this, with so much pain that it racked her body. When the song finally ended, he sent up thanks to whoever would listen that Susan wouldn’t have to endure another moment of the damn song. Shortly after, the pastor thanked all who came and reminded them of the service that would follow at the local cemetery.

  Josiah exited the church before the pastor spoke his last word and waited by Rowan’s car for the rest of the group to arrive. As he watched people file out of the small building, he was surprised when he saw Susan walking across the parking lot to Rowan’s car. She had her arm tucked into the crook of Rowan’s elbow with her chin to her chest, yet she spoke to him and Tessa as they walked. He even saw a faint smile make a brief appearance. When the group reached him, he pushed himself away from the car and shoved his hands into the pockets of his navy blue slacks. The black dress Susan wore pretty much epitomized the emotions of the day, and though he shouldn’t have let the thought slip through his mind, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, even on a day such as this. Rowan and the others quickly slid into the car, giving the two of them a moment alone, yet there was no sound of an engine starting. Or at least Josiah hadn’t noticed if it had. His focus was solely on Susan.

  “Tessa told me you showed up. Thank you for coming,” she said, her eyes never meeting his.

  “I know you didn’t invite me, but I wanted to be here,” Josiah clenched his fists in his pockets, wanting desperately to reach out to her, to draw her into his embrace and to promise her that things would get bet
ter.

  “Well, I have to head over to the-”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Josiah interrupted.

  Susan shook her head. “Don’t apologize.”

  “Had I known, I would have-”

  “Had known what?” she asked.

  Josiah kept his gaze on her. “If I had known your mother was sick…” his voice trailed off when her gaze slipped to the coffin being ushered into the white hearse.

  “You would have what?” Susan said on a sigh. “Not gotten involved with me? Not had sex with me that night? Not stayed the night? I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t have either,” she said offering her back to him.

  Josiah slid his fingers down her arm as he walked around in front of her, not caring about the cars driving by or the people still exiting the church. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze never wavering from hers.

  “No. I would have gone with you. That morning you got the call, I wouldn’t have let you leave by yourself. I would have driven you myself to the hospital and been at your side.”

  Susan stepped away from his touch. “I should have never been with you. I should have been with her instead of you,” she said while the tears she no longer fought spilled from the corners of her eyes.

  Josiah felt the stab at his heart as her words rang over and over in his mind. I should have never been with you. He watched Susan walk away and he knew the pain he felt in his chest at the words she spoke should not have even found root there. He knew more than anyone that people who were grieving a loved one said things they didn’t mean, but the words stung because of the convictions with which she spoke them.