by Syndi Powell
Suzy shrugged. “It was one of Mama’s favorites.”
Page unfolded it and glanced at it. “I love the puppies.” She looked back at Suzy. “Did your mother?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“You’re dealing with the stuff, Suzy, but not what got it here.” She held up the sweatshirt. “This looks well-worn. Well-loved.”
“I think she did love it. She wore it often enough.”
“So if we threw it out or donated it, how would that make you feel?”
Suzy’s racing heart went up another gear. “Fine.”
“Find another word. And start with ‘it makes me feel’ then fill in the blank.”
Suzy wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and took several deep breaths. “It makes me feel...” She paused and closed her eyes. Angry. Anxious. Alone. And those were just the As. She shook her head. “I have a lot to do, and my time is running short. So right now, I feel overwhelmed.”
Page nodded and made a note. “Could you donate this top?” She held it up for Suzy to see.
She hesitated. Page must have known because she narrowed her eyes at Suzy who held out her hand. “I think I want to keep that.”
“It’s stained near the collar.” Page held the sweatshirt closer to her and away from Suzy’s reach.
“I know.”
“So why keep it?”
“I said. Because it was her favorite.” Suzy snatched the top from Page and brought it to her nose. Inhaled deeply. “I’ll wear it and think of her.”
“It’s about three sizes too big for you.”
Like that mattered. “So I’ll wear it as pajamas. Why do you care?”
Page made another note. “This is just one example of how you’re hanging on to your mother’s things.” She opened the closet and pointed at the contents. “Are you going to keep all these too?”
A stack of T-shirts shifted and started to rain down on Page’s head. Suzy rushed over and helped her free herself from them, throwing some back in the closet, which was already packed several layers deep. “Of course not.”
“So then let’s start weeding some of these out.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Page took a step back at her words. “Why not?”
Suzy stepped away and took a seat on the bed, shoving some of the boxes aside when they slid towards her. “Because I’ve never needed anyone’s help.”
“You sure about that?”
This was driving her crazy. She covered her ears and shook her head. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Making me think. Feel.” Suzy groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I’ve survived this long because I’ve pushed those things down. I had enough to deal with...with Mama’s moods and her stuff. There wasn’t space to deal with mine too.”
Page put her hand on Suzy’s shoulder. “There is now.”
* * *
THEY CONTINUED THROUGH the house, Page categorizing the items that would need to be purged. A checklist of tasks that Suzy would have to complete. They ended in the living room where Page put her coat on. She handed Suzy the checklists they’d made then put the notepad and pen back in her purse. “Have you thought of having a clean out day with your friends?”
Suzy folded the lists and put them in her front jeans pocket. “I did for the backyard, but I don’t want to impose on them again. There’s a lot more in here than there was out there.”
“More reason for you to ask for help.” Page pulled her blond hair from beneath her coat then sighed. “I know you have a crazy schedule with working nights and weekends, but I’d like you to schedule it soon, with the deadline coming up.”
“Fine.” When Page gave her a look, she smiled. “That would be great. How about next Saturday?”
“Perfect. And I’ll ask Henry to come with me.”
Suzy smiled. Now that would be interesting.
* * *
THE NOTES ON Mrs. Stone stated that she’d been quiet most of the day. And that she had sent back her lunch tray. It looked like Harold was carrying a full dinner tray out of her room. Suzy put her tablet down, stormed down the hall and slammed the door open. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Mrs. Stone startled. “I’m not hungry.”
Suzy left the room and took the tray from the orderly. Returned to Mrs. Stone’s room and dropped it on the bedside table. “No one skips meals on my watch.”
“I’m. Not. Hungry.”
“You want to play games? We can play games.” She took the lid off and glanced at the plate. “It’s baked chicken night. Mashed potatoes. Corn.”
“Don’t care.”
Suzy picked up the silverware wrapped in a napkin and removed the fork and knife. She cut the chicken into small pieces then pushed the table to the bed. Stabbed a piece of chicken and held it up to Mrs. Stone. “Do I have to feed you?”
“Do what you want. I’m not eating.”
“I had to feed my mother to keep her alive, and I loved her. You’re just a patient. What do you think I’ll do to you?” She wiggled the fork. “Don’t try me.”
Mrs. Stone scowled at her. “Why do you care if I eat or not?”
“Because I’m your nurse. I’ve promised to take care of you, and that means making sure you do everything to get better.” Suzy put the fork down. “Now why do you really not want to eat?”
“What’s the point? I’m going to die anyway.”
Suzy took a seat on the bed next to her. “Do you really believe that?”
“That’s what the doctor said.”
“He said you have to fight. Which means you have to want to live.” Suzy paused. “So tell me. Do you?”
There wasn’t an answer at first. Mrs. Stone looked down at her hands. Then she looked out the window at the birch tree with the peeling bark. A long moment passed before she finally said, “I don’t want to leave my children.”
“Okay then. So focus on that.” Suzy picked up the fork and held it out to Mrs. Stone. “Eat for their sake.”
Mrs. Stone took the fork, and Suzy fixed the table so that the older woman could feed herself. She watched diligently until the first bite was swallowed. Then she got off the bed and tidied the room, giving her space.
She rounded up the extra pillows that had been tossed on the floor and hugged them to her body. She didn’t like getting tough with her patients, but sometimes they needed that extra bit of motivation. And though she may look like a cream puff, she was made of steel.
Except when it came to her own situation.
She placed one of the pillows behind Mrs. Stone to give her some support at her back. “Feel a little better?”
“I’m still scared.”
“I know.” Suzy patted her arm. “And I wish I could say that it will go away, but I can’t. Fear doesn’t really go away. It’s up to us to figure out how to manage it and keep going.”
“Is that what you told your mom?”
Suzy shook her head. “She never figured out how to get over the fear of being alone. It lived with her in my father’s absence.” Mama might as well have been married to it. She went to bed with it at night and woke up with it in the morning. It followed her all day at work. At meals. And especially during the holidays. “It took over her life.” She swallowed. “And I’ve got to stop letting it take over mine.”
“Fear is never a good companion. It keeps you from what you want.”
“I’m realizing that.”
Mrs. Stone observed her. “So what will you do, dearie?”
Clean up the house then sell it. Go back to school and get the degree in veterinary medicine that she’d wanted in the first place. Figure out the rest of her life. She was free from her mother now, no
longer tied to Mama’s demands. She smiled. “Fear isn’t going to keep me back anymore. I’m not my mother, and I won’t let it control me like it did her. I’m finally going to live my own life.”
* * *
WILL PAUSED OUTSIDE of Ma’s hospital room before going in. She seemed in foul spirits lately, ever since deciding to go ahead with the treatment. Like Suzy had warned him, Ma blamed him. Another breath and he pushed the door open. Frowned when he saw the empty bed. He checked the bathroom, but that too was empty. What in the world?
He left his mother’s room and went to the nurses’ station where a young woman directed a patient’s family to the dining hall. She turned to him. “Mr. Stone, you’re early today.”
He gave a short nod. “Where is she?”
The nurse pointed down the hall to the television room. He didn’t think his mom had been leaving her room much, but perhaps that had changed. He strode down the hall and paused in the doorway at the sight of Suzy with a large cat in her arms. She tucked her face in his fur then placed the cat in his mother’s outstretched arms. “What is going on in here?” he asked.
Suzy’s head snapped up, and she gave him a bright smile. “You’re just in time for therapy. Do you want to hold Mr. Whiskers next?”
“No. I don’t. And neither should my mother.” He plucked the cat from Ma’s arms. “Do you know how many rules you’re breaking by bringing these flea-bitten animals into a sterile environment?”
Suzy plucked the cat from him and gave it back to his mom. “First of all, the community room is already not sterile. Second, no patient in here is at risk. And those flea-bitten critters are therapy for my patients.”
Now he’d really heard everything. “Therapy? Really?”
“Could we take this out to the hallway?” A tall woman with long, dark red hair and wearing a white lab coat stepped forward, and Will headed outside. When Suzy started following them, the doctor stopped her. “I’ll deal with him. You stay with the patients.”
The woman shut the door behind them and folded her arms across her chest. “Suze is right. These animals are important to her patients healing. Studies show that pets lower blood pressure, relieve stress and promote health and well-being to their owners. Suzy came up with the idea to start this here, and it’s brilliant, Mr...”
“Stone.”
“So you’re Will.” The doctor scrutinized him from head to toe then gave a nod. “That explains it.”
“And you are...”
She held out her hand. “Dr. Presley Jones. I’m the vet over at the animal rescue.” They shook hands, and her smile grew wider. “Firm grip. Nice.”
“Excuse me?”
Dr. Jones took a step forward, still hanging on to his hand and pulled him so that he had to bend down, giving her the advantage. “But if you hurt my friend Suzy, it won’t be so nice for you anymore.” She squeezed his hand hard. “Got it?”
“I’m not doing anything.” He let go of her hand and massaged his. The doctor certainly had strength. “It’s nice to know she has friends who look out for her.”
“I’ll do more than that if I have to.” She crossed her arms again and glared at him. “So we have an understanding?”
“You bet.” He waved his hand to get back some feeling. “You’ve got some grip.”
The door opened, and Suzy popped her head out. “Are we good now?”
Dr. Jones glared at him until he nodded. “The vet explained things.”
“Good.” She checked her watch. “You’re welcome to join us for the last ten minutes, Will. Petting a cat might do wonders for you.”
“I don’t think...” Another glare from the vet. “I’d like that.”
Suzy opened the door for them both. Will soon found himself in an armchair with a small dachshund sitting on his lap and staring up at him with adoring eyes. “This is temporary, pal, so don’t get any ideas.”
Still, it was nice to run his hand over the sleek pup. To sit back and close his eyes if just for a moment. He could feel his anger and tension disappearing. This was...nice. Unexpected. And darn it if the doctor wasn’t right. It was definitely lowering his blood pressure.
He opened his eyes and found Suzy watching him with a look of triumph. He sent a smile back and let his eyes close again. Then she was shaking him awake and taking the dog from him. “He has to go back to the shelter.”
Will nodded with a twinge of regret. If his life was more settled, he might consider adopting a pet but there was too much going on. With his mom here at the home, he didn’t get to his place until late most evenings. At least taking care of his mom’s cats didn’t require a lot of attention. A little food in the morning. More at night. A bowl of fresh water. And a litter box. Easy.
Except for the cat hairs that seemed to have invaded every room of his townhouse. And settled on all his clothes.
He stood and kept his gaze on Suzy as she got the animals settled in their crates. She wiped her hands off then rested them on her hips. She glanced at him. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm your mom. You get that, right?”
He did, but when he’d seen what was happening, he couldn’t control himself. “I overreacted.”
“You do that a lot.”
Did he ever. He cocked his head to one side. “Do you think we’re destined to become like our parents?”
Suzy frowned and checked the lock on one of the crates. “Why do you say that?”
“Because sometimes I hear my dad’s voice coming out of my mouth and I don’t like it.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I loved my dad, but he was a hard man. I don’t want to be like that. Is that how you see me?”
She took too long in answering. Finally, she shrugged. “Maybe at first.”
“You’re not helping.”
“But once I got to know you better, I could see it’s just a front. The way you care about your mom and your sister shows a lot more than this gruff exterior. You have a heart, Will. So no, you’re not going to become like your father.” She gave him a smile, as if she could see right through to his core.
Soon she was going to say he was just a teddy bear deep down inside, and he couldn’t allow that. Wouldn’t let himself admit that just maybe she was right. Because he was an ex-Marine. Tough. Strong. And not fluffy. Not at all. He was his father’s son, after all. “I’m not soft, Suzy. I can’t change that.”
“If we are doomed to become our parents, then I’m either going to be a hoarder or abandon everyone I love. And I refuse to do that. We don’t have to be who are parents are. We can choose to be who we want to be.”
“Easier said than done. It’s not only genetics though, it’s also how we’re brought up.”
“Still, it doesn’t have to be like that about our parents.” She tried to smile, but he could see she wasn’t quite successful. “That’s why we have therapy, right?”
She scooped up a crate in each hand and walked out of the room.
For a moment, he watched her. He didn’t have to be the hard man his father had been or the driven soldier he’d been raised to be. He could be his own man. Someone who was a leader, but who could also show compassion. Wasn’t that what his volunteer brigade was about?
He didn’t have to follow the path his father had followed. Maybe it was time to find his own.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, after her shift had ended at the nursing home, Suzy inserted two quarters in the parking meter and turned the dial. She’d probably be in town hall for at least an hour. Longer if it didn’t go as she’d planned. She gripped her purse tighter and sprinted up the front steps to town hall. It was an older building, dimly lit and with a musty smell. Suzy stopped in front of the directory and checked for Will’s name. William Stone in 227.
She took the stairs to the second floor then counted down the numbers until she st
ood outside of his office. She noted that the door was open, but the light was off. She poked her head inside. “Hey, you here?”
There was a thump and a muffled curse. His head popped up from under the desk. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing hiding under your desk?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I think a fuse is fried or something because my lights and computer don’t work. I was checking the connections to be sure.”
Suzy flipped the light switch off and on, but there was no power. “It’s probably a circuit breaker or something.”
“Perfect.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”
Suzy saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
He grimaced. “I meant, would you mind waiting for me here while I take care of this issue?”
“Much better.” In his absence, she peeked at the framed pictures on his desk. Mrs. Stone. Tori and the boys. A gruff looking man in uniform. Must be his dad. She could see the resemblance, especially in those piercing blue eyes. “So you’re Mr. Stone.”
“Yep, that’s my dad.”
Suzy almost jumped out of her skin. She turned to face Will. “You shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that.”
“You shouldn’t be snooping.” He took the picture from her and glanced down at it then her.
“I wasn’t snooping. I was just curious.”
He gave her a soft grin, and she was struck again by how good he looked when he smiled. The smile switched to a frown. “Why are you looking at me like there’s something on my face?”
“You smiled. You’re so hot when you do that.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I meant to say nice looking. You’re handsome. Ugh, I’m making it worse.”
“I’d say you’re making it much better.” He approached her but she retreated a few steps until the backs of her legs hit a chair. He stopped. “But you’re here on business?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m not extending the deadline. Even for you.”
Of course, he’d jump to that conclusion. “Nothing like that.” She took a seat in the chair across from him. “I’m having another clean out day this Saturday, and I wanted to...” He took a seat on his desk so that his feet framed hers on the carpet. She kept her gaze on them “Um,...ask you...”