Rocky Road Read online

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I brought it out and tapped on the message to open it. It was from Alyssa.

  Happy birthday, Mom. I'm about to bring the kids to daycare, but I wanted to tell you I love you and you're fantastic and I'm sorry I can't be with you today.

  I smiled to myself. Alyssa was married and lived in Minneapolis with three of the most precious children I'd ever met—my grandchildren. Jake, my son, was in Boston with his new wife. They couldn't be with me in person, but when I closed my eyes, I could see them as little ones, presenting me with a clay ash tray, though I never smoked, and a Christmas ornament for my birthday, though it was September. I could still feel their little arms around my neck and their wet kisses on my cheek.

  Thanks, darling.

  I shut off my screen and returned the phone to my pocket.

  "I'm sorry I didn't know it was your birthday or I would have brought you a present," Mrs. Landing said. Though she had only taken a few sips of champagne, she listed away from me. I took the champagne glass from her and set it onto the dew-filled grass, then pulled her arm back to straighten her up.

  "Your company is plenty," I said, patting her folded hands.

  "I forgot my flowers at home, you know. I do like Hal's grave to look festive for autumn. He always did love autumn," she slurred.

  "I have an extra pot of mums in the car. Do you want them?" I asked.

  "The garish pink ones?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, okay..." Mrs. Landing said, pressing her lips together. "I have a gift for you."

  "Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Landing?" I reached over and took her hand again, trying to find a subtle way to make sure she was well. She had seemed a little forgetful lately, and she had just told me she didn't have a gift. Perhaps her age was finally getting to her. Perhaps I shouldn't have given her that champagne. Was it reacting with some medication she had taken?

  "I could drive you home and come back to pick up your car later."

  "No, no, dear. I'm fine."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  "The gift—"

  "You don't have to bother with gifts for me, Mrs. Landing. Just having you here today is plenty."

  "Can you take me home?" she asked. "I'm feeling a tad ill."

  Her pulse fluttered under my fingers, and her face had turned the color of dead grass. She tilted toward me. The hospital was right down the street. It would take me less time to drive her there than for an ambulance to arrive. I hoped she wouldn't die in my car. That would be just my luck.

  I wrapped her bone-and-skin arm around my shoulders and my arm around her waist and lifted her. Her head lolled backward, her slight weight leaned into me. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Landing. Hold on."

  With some voodoo magic I managed to keep a hold on her while opening the door to my car and slipping her inside. I ran around the front of the hood and catapulted into the driver's seat.

  The drive to the hospital stretched longer than it had any right. I blew a red light, checking behind me to make sure the blue and reds didn't flash. I parked outside the emergency entrance, ran around the car, unbuckled Mrs. Landing, and took her inside.

  Almost immediately, nurses surrounded me, taking Mrs. Landing, slipping her into a wheelchair, and rolling her away.

  Someone—a male nurse in his twenties—gave me a brief, calm look. "What happened?"

  "She had some champagne. We were celebrating."

  "Are you family?"

  I blinked, assaulted by the antiseptic smell, as if someone had wrapped a Band-aid around the hospital to stop the bleeding. It was the same thought I'd had when Paul had collapsed that first time. When I'd taken him here, and my heart had almost beat out of my chest. It was the same smell when they'd told me there was something on his CAT scan. A something that could have been nothing, but I knew was something.

  "Are you all right, ma'am?" the male nurse asked again.

  I forced myself to draw in a breath of the antiseptic air and pushed it all into the little box inside my heart that held those memories. "I'm not family. Just a neighbor. How can I help?"

  "We'll take it from here. It's probably just an interaction of the alcohol with some of her meds. Do you know what she's on?"

  "No, but I can find out, if you like. Take a look around her house."

  "No, it's okay. It would only be a guess, anyway."

  "Suuue. Susan." Mrs. Landing started tossing and turning like she was having a nightmare, her wrinkles catching the rivulets of sweat rolling down her face.

  "I'm here Mrs. Landing." I strode to her side and clutched her clammy hand. "I'm here. It's okay. I'll stay with you as long as you need me."

  "We're going to knock her out," said the male voice over my shoulder.

  "Okay. Mrs. Landing. Do you know what medications you take?"

  "Don't. Die," she said, her hand going lax as she turned away. "Your gift. Don't..."

  "Don't worry, sweetie. These doctors are going to take care of you," I said. She was already passed out, and once again I was helpless, foam on the waves of the hospital, carried toward something over which I had no control. Carried closer to death. How fitting a start to my birthday.

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