by Ronica Black
“What makes you think that?”
“We usually only speak on Sundays after she gets home from church.” She answered the call, heart already pounding.
“Maurine?” she rasped.
“Carla?”
“It’s me, but I’m a bit hoarse. Is everything okay?”
Silence.
“Maurine?”
“It’s Mama, Carla. She collapsed in the kitchen this morning and was rushed to the hospital. I’ve been trying to call.”
Carla’s heart dropped, and a lump rose to her throat causing the initial pain she’d felt earlier to literally throb.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear it. How is she? Is she okay” She knew there was more. Knew it must be serious. Otherwise Maurine wouldn’t be calling.
“She’s sick.” Her voice caved.
Carla closed her eyes. Maurine getting emotional meant the situation was dire. Very dire. “How bad?” Tears brimmed and burned as she waited for the answer.
She heard Maurine struggle to speak and she braced herself.
“She’s not going to make it, Carla. They don’t think she’s got much longer. They’re not even sure she’s going to make it through the night.”
Carla’s world spun. She had to close her eyes again to fend off the dizziness. The tears that had welled began to fall, streaking down her cheeks like narrow little streams carrying the most gut-wrenching pain she’d ever felt.
She had always known this day would come. She’d just hoped she’d somehow, someway, be prepared to face it. But she now knew, as she sat totally and completely helpless under that tree three thousand miles away, that she could’ve never, ever been adequately prepared for the news that was just relayed to her.
“Okay,” she managed to say. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She heard Maurine break down completely as they said good-bye, and it took all Carla had not to do the same in response. She stared endlessly into the green grass, doing her best to steel herself. She startled when Nadine rested her hand on her shoulder.
“Is it your grandmother?”
Carla swallowed down the threatening sobs. She nodded.
Nadine had been her closest friend for fifteen years. They’d met the very first day Carla stepped foot in her classroom to begin her career. She’d seen her through some rough times throughout the years and she knew her better than anyone. So, she knew how much her grandmother meant to her. She knew she was like her mother; knew she had raised her. And she no doubt knew how terribly devastating this whole thing was going to be for her.
“It’s bad news?”
“My aunt broke down.” She looked at Nadine. “She never cries. So, yes, it’s the worst kind of news.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “She said she doesn’t have long,” Carla said. “I have to go. I need to leave right away.”
But, at the moment, she couldn’t move. She was stuck to the ground as if the shock had weighed her down and rooted her there.
“Of course.”
“I’m probably going to miss the end of school—all of—”
“I’ll take care of all of it. You’ve pretty much packed up and prepared everything for the last day anyway because of the strike. The rest I can handle. We can handle. You know, your friends and colleagues who adore you?”
“Thank you. I just—I’m not ready for this, Nadine. I’m not ready.”
“Aw, sweetie.” She inched closer and embraced her. “I know this is hard. It’s probably one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to go through. And I’m so, so sorry. If there was anything in the world I could do to ease your pain I would. But when it comes to something like this, there’s very little anyone can do to help with the pain. So, I’m going to do what I can, which is to make sure you don’t have to worry about a thing here, okay? Max and the boys will pitch in and we’ll take care of the house, the mail, the yard, everything. You just go be with your family. That’s all you need to worry about. That’s all that matters now.”
Carla wiped her tears.
Nadine was right.
She needed to pack her bags, catch the soonest flight back to North Carolina. Back to where she came from. Where she was born and raised. Where anyone and everyone who had any kind of blood relation to her currently resided.
She needed to go back so she could do the most difficult thing she’d ever had yet to do.
Say good-bye.
Chapter Two
Carla rushed through Charlotte Douglas International Airport, bypassing the long, familiar row of wooden rocking chairs that welcomed visitors in a relaxed, southern hospitable kind of way. She often sat in one while waiting to board her return flights to Phoenix, preferring the gentle rocking chairs over the stiff, stationary seats at the gate. At the moment, though, thoughts of departing were the last thing on her mind. Her plane had just arrived, and she was hurrying, wanting to get to her grandmother as soon as possible.
She made it to baggage claim and paced while waiting for her luggage. She texted Nadine, letting her know she’d arrived safely and then texted her uncle Rick telling him she’d be ready for pickup soon. Another quick text, this one to Maurine, resulted in a much-needed update on her grandmother. She was still alive, but she hadn’t been conscious for hours. Carla slid her phone in her pocket, the same pocket where it had rung with bad news. She hadn’t taken the time to change clothes, having rushed home right away from the march to book whatever flight she could get and pack her things. Now that she was there, she couldn’t seem to slow down. She was still in overdrive. She tried to breathe deeply and calm some but failed. To her great relief, the luggage carousel came to life, and with her bags in tow, she headed for the exit and stepped out into the mild night where the strong smell of jet fuel and car exhaust permeated. She waited curbside after texting her uncle and stared into oncoming headlights. It wasn’t long before his early model Chevy Blazer slowed and pulled in next to her.
Rick climbed out and met her at the rear of the vehicle.
“Hey,” he said in his gruff voice. He tugged on the worn brim of his Skoal tobacco ball cap and stroked his long brown beard. His jeans and T-shirt were dirty from his work at the sawmill and very typical for him, just as his calm demeanor was. He didn’t appear to be anxious like Carla, despite the current situation. But that was Rick. He was laid-back with a quiet kindness that put people at ease. Even the way he moved was slow and easy. Carla had always said that if he were a whisky, he’d go down smooth. But also like whisky, he wasn’t to be messed with. His gentle manner could change in a flash if he felt threatened. Thankfully, Carla had only ever seen that twice in her lifetime, and both times the men who’d tested Rick’s limits had regretted it. And Rick had been easy on them.
“Hey,” she said back as she was swallowed up in his tattooed arms in an embrace. He was a large man, close to six foot five, thick with muscle and big, broad shoulders. Working at a sawmill was very physical and he had the build to prove it.
But that outer strength and quiet calm apparently weren’t able to protect him from the grief and sadness of the situation.
He jerked with a few body-racking sobs and the two of them pulled apart, both wiping their eyes. Rick crying wasn’t something she’d seen often, like Maurine, and it took nearly all she had not to completely fall apart.
He sniffled and rubbed his face.
“Ah, let’s get you out of here.” He tossed her luggage in the back of the Blazer as if it weighed no more than a feather and closed the hatch. They climbed into the SUV and rode in silence for a while.
“You hungry?” Rick eventually asked, stroking his beard once again. It had become a habit, one she’d noticed during her last visit home, and she surmised it must comfort him somehow.
She thought for a moment before answering his question.
“I don’t really have the desire to eat, but my body is hungry. If that makes any sense.”
“It does.” He stopped at an intersection and switched on his turn signal. “Yo
u want your usual?”
She sighed at the thought of having to eat and fastened her seat belt. “I guess.”
He made the turn and accelerated once again. “I never thought I’d see the day when you didn’t get excited about going to Bojangles.”
“Yeah, well, the day has come. And it sucks.” There wasn’t a Bojangles in Phoenix, so she usually always looked forward to that spicy fried chicken and an ice cold Cheerwine when she arrived. But this visit was obviously very different.
“How is she?” she asked after another long silence.
“She was in and out all day until about four o’clock. She fell asleep then and hasn’t woke up since.”
Carla checked her watch, having already changed the time on the plane. It was after ten.
“Did she talk when she was awake?”
“Not a whole lot. She knows who we are and everything, but she just seems really tired.”
“She’s not in any pain, is she?”
“Oh, Lord, no. Dr. Braum says she’s gonna pass very peacefully, probably in her sleep.”
Carla smoothed away more tears. “That’s good, I guess.”
She saw his eyes begin to water again as well.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why is this happening? Is it her COPD?”
“And her emphysema. They said they can’t do anything else for her.”
“So, she just collapses one day and that’s it? There’s no warning?”
“She’s been sleeping a lot lately and not getting around much. And there’s been a few times when the home care nurse couldn’t wake her up. She was breathing fine and all, she just wouldn’t wake up. But when she finally did, she seemed fine.”
“It’s just too fast. The whole thing is happening way too fast.”
They pulled into the drive-through at Bojangles and Rick ordered for her, already knowing very well what she wanted. She did her best to eat as they drove toward the hospital, but she could only swallow a few bites, too worried she wasn’t going to get the chance to say good-bye. She was so worried about it that when they did finally reach the hospital, she had the door open and was halfway out before Rick even had the car in park.
“What room is she in?” she called out.
“Three-oh-four.”
She slammed the door and hurried inside, taking the elevator to the third floor, and then scrambling down the hallway in search of the correct room number. It ended up being the last door on the right, and when she stood before it, she paused and tried to prepare herself for what she’d find just beyond it. Just like her failed attempt to stay calm at the airport, this strength-seeking moment didn’t help much either. With a big breath, she pushed on the partially opened door and stepped quietly inside.
The room was large and dim, the only light coming from the first half of the room, where another bed would’ve been had there been another patient. She crossed the empty space toward Maurine and her other uncle, Cole, where they stood at the end of what Carla assumed was her grandmother’s bed. A curtain was drawn, ending where Maurine and Cole stood, preventing her from seeing anything else.
She slowed her approach, suddenly so anxious her heart thudded from somewhere low in her chest. Maurine was dabbing her eyes with a tissue and Cole had his head bowed. They, like her, had the Sims’ trademark blond hair and lean build. The only one who didn’t was Rick. He had the darker hair and more muscular build that favored her grandmother’s brothers. But they all did share one thing that couldn’t be denied.
Their eye color.
Gold.
Like sweet, warm honey straight from the hive.
That’s how her grandmother had always described it. And she should know. They inherited that eye color from her.
Carla smiled softly at that, but tears came, nipping at her throat, forcing the smile away. Cole caught sight of her and motioned for her to come over. She did, and they enveloped her in long, firm hugs. Cole shook when he held her, a lot like Rick had. Maurine did a little but it was obvious she was trying to control her emotions. Nevertheless, she clung to her long and hard before she released her.
Maurine had always been stronger than her brothers, despite being younger. Carla had idolized her for that strength as a kid and had followed her around everywhere. Maurine was only seven years older than her, and they’d always been more like sisters than aunt and niece. They’d all been more like siblings to her, and a lot of folks had often assumed they were until they were told otherwise.
Maurine finished wiping away more running tears and took her hand. She led her to a chair that sat next to the head of the bed.
“Her breathing has really slowed the last hour,” Maurine said.
Carla sat slowly and squeezed her eyes tight before opening them to look at her grandmother.
“Hey, Grandma,” she said, doing her very best not to fall to pieces at the sight of her. Her voice was still strained from the teacher’s march, and she tried to speak louder, needing to make sure her grandmother heard her. “It’s me, Carla. I’m here.”
Her grandmother didn’t give any indication that she’d heard her. She just kept slowly breathing, her jaw slack and her mouth open. Her cheeks looked sunken and her beautiful olive skin was noticeably paler. Her breathing, Carla soon noticed, was not only slow, but there were considerable pauses. Each one bringing about a wild panic in her for fear she wouldn’t inhale again.
“Is this—normal? Her breathing like that?”
“The nurse said it happens when they’re close to the end,” Maurine said.
“I don’t think it’s gonna be long now,” Cole said.
Carla held her grandmother’s soft, cool hand. It felt strangely pliable and her nail beds were white. Carla kissed her knuckles, fighting back sobs as she recalled entertaining herself by pushing at the veins on the back of her hand when she was little when they were somewhere where she was supposed to be still and quiet.
Her grandmother had never complained.
Carla touched her face and noticed that she still had on her oxygen tubing. She could hear the hiss of it as it pushed air into her nose.
“She’s wearing her oxygen.” She looked to Maurine and Cole. “Kind of senseless at this point don’t you think? Especially considering how she hated it.”
Cole laughed. “She’d cuss up a storm when the cord snagged on something in the house.”
“She’d be mad as hell if she knew that thing was still on her right now. At the very end,” Carla said.
Cole patted her other hand from his seat across the bed.
“You ain’t got to wear it no more, Mama,” he said. He stood and carefully removed the cannula and cord and placed it back behind her pillow. He knelt and kissed her forehead and then resettled, taking her hand in his.
Rick appeared from behind the curtain and stood next to Maurine.
“I been on the phone. Everyone is calling wanting to know how she is.” He stroked his beard as Carla stroked her grandmother’s long white hair.
She looked very different from the last time Carla had seen her. She seemed to be thinner and a little feeble. She’d lost a lot of muscle tone and her hair, which had always been very thick, appeared to have thinned near her hairline at the top of her head.
Apparently, a lot had changed in the three years since she’d last seen her. She should’ve come back sooner. Why hadn’t she come back sooner?
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here, Grandma. I’m sorry.”
“She missed you,” Maurine said. “But she always wanted you to be happy. Knowing you were happy made her happy.”
Her grandmother stirred and began to mumble.
“She’s dreaming,” Cole said. “Been doing that all day.”
“Grandma? Grandma, can you hear me?” Carla squeezed her hand and smoothed her thumb along her brow. “I’m here,” she said again. “I’m right here.”
She felt a gentle squeeze from her grandmother’s hand.
“Yes, it’s me,” she said
, the tears breaking through. “It’s me and I’m here and I love you. I love you so much.”
She rested her head on her grandmother’s chest and broke down and cried.
“I just love you so much,” she whispered.
Her grandmother made another soft noise and there was a very long pause before the next breath. Carla felt a pressure on her shoulder, and she sat up and found Maurine standing right next to her, eyes brimming as tears continued to run down her face. Her uncles, looking similar, each placed a hand on their mother.
They all knew it was time.
“I love you, Mama,” Maurine said.
Rick was once again shaking with sobs and he spoke, but his voice was barely audible. “I love you, too, Mama.”
“We all love you,” Cole said. “And we all know you love us.” He, too, began to quietly cry as the woman who meant so much to them took in another breath.
“You go on and go now, Mama,” Rick said. “We’re gonna be okay.” He struggled to speak. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
Carla felt another slight squeeze from her hand and her grandmother pushed out one last breath. One last gentle sigh.
And with that final exhalation, the bright, beautiful flame that was her grandmother quietly blew out.
“I love you,” Carla repeated once more, wanting her to take that with her as she crossed over.
Then she bowed her head and cried and somehow managed to say what she’d come three thousand miles to say.
“Good-bye.”
Chapter Three
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Janice asked her lifelong best friend, Maurine, over the phone.
“I’m doing okay.”
Janice sighed and sat on the bed in her hotel room and glanced at herself in the mirror above the dresser. She ran her hand through her hair and seriously considered changing out of her sleep pants and tank top and just driving back home to be with Maurine. It didn’t matter that she’d just arrived for her favorite college literary conference where she would be participating in a panel and giving a presentation. Nor did it matter that this year’s conference was being held on Hilton Head Island, where she’d looked forward to exploring South Carolina’s Lowcountry. What mattered was that Maurine needed her. And there was always next year.