Unforgiven (34 page)

The shift was never ending. She was absolutely never going to work a double shift again. It was almost five thirty in the morning, and she was dragging. She had to make it until seven. How the hell was she going to make it until seven? Coffee. Coffee was the only way.

Naturally, the coffee in the pot smelled burned, and she wasn’t about to torture herself with burned coffee when she could make fresh. She rubbed her eyes and yawned as she dropped the pre-filled filter into the basket, and then she held her head in her hands as she listened to it percolate. Her eyes were swimming in a dizzy pool of sleepiness, and she nearly fell asleep holding her head as she propped her elbows on the counter, but then the bells on the door jangled. Time to wake up and be a waitress.

She yawned again as she stumbled out the kitchen door to the dining room. All she could think about was her bed. And on a giant yawn she opened her eyes. Two cops stood before her. They looked stern, intimidating. Her brain started running through her past week. Had she seen her PO? Had she ignored any messages from him? She hadn’t.

“Are you Bailey Trent?” She felt pale and weak. What the hell had she done wrong?

“Yes.” One of the cops read off her address, confirming that in fact they had the correct Bailey Trent. She was freaking out more with every second. No one was holding handcuffs, so she thought that was at least a good sign, but seeing as she was the only criminal she knew and two cops were looking for her, she wasn’t holding out hope this was just a pleasure visit.

“Ms. Trent, we need to speak with you about something very serious.”

“Why? I just talked to my PO two days ago. I’ve been checking in with him constantly; you can ask him. I have his card in my purse. I don’t . . . I mean he even does home visits and searches, and he’s not found anything. I swear, I haven’t done—”

“Ms. Trent, it’s about your mother. There’s been a car accident. I’m afraid she didn’t survive.” She listened to every ounce of air in her lungs leave her. It was expelled in a slow
whoosh
as she sank onto one of the counter stools. Her ears started buzzing, and her brain was coursing with electric pulses that she could hear vibrating in her ears. Her world was slowing, threatening to fall from its axis into a void. And then her world stopped. It turned to blackness, and she felt her body slipping off the stool to the grimy linoleum floor.

He was trying to drive the speed limit, but it was admittedly hard—even given the reason for his trip. He’d left in a hurry, and poor Macy watched in utter confusion as he rushed her through her potty time and then ran out on her.

He hadn’t found out the right way. Not that there was a right way, but hearing the bad news from the town dickhead in the middle of the cereal aisle at the supermarket was most definitely the wrong way. “Hear ’bout Bailey Trent’s mom? Got herself dead in a car accident this morning. Looks like Bailey finally got what she deserved, huh?”

His gut reaction had been to slam Tim Blotke into the shelves next to them, and that was exactly what he did. He didn’t even have time to fully process what the asshole had told him. He grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him into the shelves as cereal boxes were jostled and tipped over. “What the fuck did you say?”

“Fuck, dude, get off me! What the fuck! Thought you’d be happy, Doc. Jesus!”

He was panting as he glared at Tim. Tim was as much an asshole now as he’d been in high school, and Darren hated him as much now as he did then. “Sorry.” He muttered it under his breath. He wasn’t at all sorry. “What . . . what are you talking about?” He was trying to be calm, but the words were starting to sink in, and all he could think about was Bailey.

“I was dropping off a flower order at Jepson’s Funeral Home, and Bill Jepson was on the phone with some hospital in Memphis talkin’ ’bout body transferrin’ and shit. When he got off the phone, I asked. Celia Trent died in a car accident this morning in Memphis. Make no mistake. ’Parently, Bailey ain’t got no money to have the body sent back, so Bill’s tryin’ to figure out what he can do. Like I’s sayin’, bitch’s finally getting what she deserves.”

He had no more patience the second time Tim said it than the first, and this time Tim ended up on the floor under a pile of cereal boxes. Now it was three hours later, and he was trying to get himself to Baptist Hospital in Memphis in one piece. He wasn’t even sure she’d be there, but he didn’t have anything else to go on. He’d managed to get the name of the hospital from Bill Jepson, and he knew Celia’s body couldn’t be transported until the following day due to the autopsy schedule. Jepson was curious, if nothing else. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know their history. Hell, he’d handled Jess’ funeral arrangements six years ago.

 Darren wasn’t entirely sure what the hell he was doing. He only knew where he needed to be, and he hoped like hell she’d be okay with him showing up unannounced. The hospital was a busy place, and after asking an information desk attendant and two different nurses for directions, he managed to find his way to the morgue—far quieter than the rest of the building.

She was sitting on a bank of chairs in the hallway in a stupor. Her eyes stared at the floor in front of her, seeing nothing. He stood thirty feet down the hall just watching her for what had to be five minutes. She was sitting in a drab, yellow dress and orthopedic shoes. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked entirely too pale. She held a Kleenex knotted in her hands, but there were no tears. He knew that feeling well. He’d been in her place once. He’d felt just how numbingly devastated a person could get, and he remembered it like a bad dream.

A person could be in so much pain they felt nothing but the absence of everything. They hurt, and yet they couldn’t get a grasp on the pain enough to actually truly feel it. That was by far the most anguishing human emotion in the world. At least from his perspective. He watched her, knowing just how she felt, and he felt it. He felt every stab of it as if it belonged to him. He was so responsible for her at this point whether he’d ever intended to be or not. He most definitely wanted to be.

When he finally moved toward her, she glanced up at him. Her lips started to quiver, and her fingers clenched tight in her lap, and she let out a quiet cry. His throat was suddenly constricting, and he couldn’t swallow. He sat next to her, wrapped an arm around her, and she sank into his side. He said nothing to her, and she didn’t attempt to speak to him, either. They just sat silently, and he held her.

She finally took a deep breath. “Why did you come?”

He ignored her question. “You know what one of the hardest parts of losing Jess was?” He didn’t wait for her response. “Not having you there to support me when I needed you. I’d like to think you need me as much as I’ve always needed you.” She looked up to him, her large blue eyes glistening. “I think it’s why the past six years have been such a disaster. I don’t cope very well with life when I don’t have you in it. Admittedly, I’ve struggled to figure out your place in my life since Jess died.”

They returned to silence for a while, and he went back to holding her. When she spoke again, it pulled him out of a trance. “Do you think I deserve this?”

He turned to her quickly, holding her cheeks in his hands. He studied her eyes. There was a time when he’d have crucified her with this question. God, how things had changed for him. “No. No.” He shook his head as her eyes teared. “I don’t think life works that way. Things just happen.” He trailed off as he shook his head. “No.” He studied her. She looked pale and weak, and he was crumbling. “Let me take you home.” She sat quietly for a long time before finally nodding, and he helped her stand.

They walked slowly through the hospital, and once away from the morgue, the chatter and busy commotion picked up. They were like two people walking in slow motion as the world sped by them. Bailey looked two seconds from collapsing, and he supported her weight with an arm around her. He didn’t want to stop touching her. He’d been deprived of the feel of her skin for six weeks, and he just wasn’t ready to give it up yet, but when he helped her slide into his passenger seat, he finally loosened his hold on her. She looked up at him with her glassy, beautiful eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Bailey.” He meant it. He’d take it all away if he could. He’d endure it for her if it was possible. He hated her pain, and there wasn’t a single ounce of him that thought she deserved this. She nodded, and he leaned to her mouth. He stalled for a second, unsure if this was what she’d want, but then he decided he needed to find out. He kissed her mouth, and when he pulled back, she reached up to his lips, running her thumb across his bottom one. He kissed her again.

“I’m so tired.”

He stroked her cheek, and he pulled her seatbelt across her lap, buckling her in.

“When I said let me take you home, I meant my home.”

Her barely open eyes widened at that, and she forced herself to sit up straighter.

“No! I have to be here. She’s here, and I have to be too.” Her voice was lurching, and she was coming apart in a panic.

“No. Your mom is being transferred to Jepson’s tomorrow afternoon. We’ll discuss the burial with Bill then.”

“No. I was going to have her cremated here. I couldn’t. . .” She broke down into sobs. It was guilt. He didn’t need her to say she couldn’t afford to bury her mom because he already knew that, and he wasn’t going to force her to say it, either.

He shushed her, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s taken care of.” He held her face in his hands again, and he studied her eyes until he was sure she understood him. “She’ll be buried next to your father.” Her sobs started again, but these weren’t guilt. It was relief, and it was the best he could hope for under the circumstances.

She stared out the window for a while before she drifted off to sleep. He’d made the mistake of asking how long she’d been awake, and he nearly yelled at her when she told him. She’d been awake since the morning prior, and it was midafternoon when they left Memphis. He was glad she was finally sleeping, but he understood well it would help nothing when she woke and realized it wasn’t just a bad dream. She’d likely feel that way every time she woke for a good two weeks or more if he remembered correctly. It was going to be a long road to peace and happiness again. He wanted to be part of that journey, but he wasn’t sure he should be so hopeful.

He called Michelle when he neared Savoy. She’d already heard the news; it tended to travel quickly in their parts, and she’d been frantically trying to reach Bailey at the hospital, not knowing how else to get in touch with her. By the time he pulled into his driveway, Michelle was already there waiting for them. He circled to her side, and he brushed his lips across her forehead as he murmured her name to wake her. Michelle eyed him curiously, and when Bailey woke, she looked at him in confusion for a moment before her face went slack.

“Hi, sweetie.” Michelle wrapped her arms around her as she stood from his car, and Bailey instantly started sobbing. Her shoulders hitched and shook as waves of emotional torture hit her. He walked ahead of them and opened the door, and Michelle led her to the sofa. He excused himself and called his parents from the office that sat off the dining room.

“Your father talked to Bill. Where are you?”

“I’m home. She’s here. Michelle’s here too.”

“Okay. What can we do?” His mother sounded as concerned as he felt, and he was relieved. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He already knew they’d far surpassed him in their Christian duty to forgive her, but it didn’t mean they’d support his choice to bring her home.

“I don’t know yet, Mom. She’s pretty . . . I don’t know. Catatonic. Celia’s body is being transferred tomorrow midday to Jepson’s, and we’ll need to set up a time to meet with him.

“Will you let her know that I’d like to go with her to Jepson’s to discuss the arrangements? She shouldn’t be alone—”

“She won’t be alone. I’ll—”

“I’d really like to go with her.” His mother was silent after that. He didn’t quite understand the conviction in her voice, but he supposed he didn’t need to.

“I’ll let her know, but I’m guessing she’ll probably be okay with that. I’ll let you know tomorrow for sure. I’m assuming there won’t be too many people that come to the funeral. Maybe something small at the cemetery itself rather than a visitation and service if she’s okay with that? More personal, intimate. The day after tomorrow will be too soon, but the day after that, perhaps.”

“Yes. I’m on my way to Rotary Club right now, and I’ll spread the word. A lot of the women there have known Celia for years, and they’ll know who should be notified of the funeral arrangements.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Give her our best.” His mother disconnected, and he stared out at the darkening woods beyond the window for a moment before returning to the living.

Bailey stood just as he approached. “I’m going to bed.” Her voice was as catatonic as her expression, and Michelle hugged her before she stumbled away. They watched her climb the stairs, and when she was out of sight, they sat.

“Michelle, I hate to ask, and if there’s someone else that can go, that’s fine. Hell, I’ll go if you tell me where. But we’re going to have to find a burial dress for Celia, and. . .”

“I can go. I’ll leave tomorrow morning. Bailey will need some clothes anyway. I’ll grab her key from her purse.” Michelle stood and turned toward the door, but she stilled and turned back. “What are your intentions with her?”

He thought for a moment before responding. “That’s more up to her than me at this point. I want her here. And not just Savoy here. Here. My home here.”

“What’s changed?”

“What hasn’t?”

“Her mother dying shouldn’t be the reason you want her to stay.” He didn’t even try to respond. It wasn’t something he was even willing to try to wrap his head around at the moment. She grabbed the keys quickly and let herself out. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and entered his bedroom, ready to curl up next to her. He didn’t intend to find his bed empty. He checked the bathroom before he returned to the hallway. He found her curled up in the spare bedroom, staring at the wall. He wasn’t happy she’d chosen to come in here rather than his bed.