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.
She waited for Maurine to say more, but all she heard was her breath hitch. She knew Maurine very well and knew she was doing her best not to cry over her mother’s death, probably not wanting to worry Janice any further.
It made Janice tear up.
“I think I should come home,” she said. Betty Sims had died, and to Janice, that woman might as well have been kin and Maurine a sister.
“No, you don’t need to be doing that. We’re just gonna sit here with Mama for a while before they take her and then we’ll go home.”
“You’re still at the hospital then?”
“For now.”
“And you’re not alone?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Her brothers were probably there with her. Or “the boys” as she’d always called them. That made her feel a little better.
She wiped away tears, hurting for Maurine and also for herself. Losing Betty tore at her just as much as the passing of her own mother had several years before.
“I’m so sorry this has happened,” she said. “So sorry for your loss. She will definitely be missed.”
“Yes. She will.” More stifled cries.
“I’m here for you. Always. You know that.”
“I do.”
“I mean it now, Maurine. I can leave here if need be. So, don’t you dare hesitate to call.”
“I won’t. But right now, there’s not much anyone can do. I don’t want you rushing home to tend to me and miss out on something you’ve been looking forward to all year.”
“You’re more important than a conference, Maurine.”
“Just please stay and try to enjoy yourself. It’s what I want. I’ll be okay.”
“All right. But I’m not happy about this. And I doubt I’ll have much fun. She was—I—” Her throat tightened.
“I know,” Maurine said.
“And I worry about you and how you’re going to handle this. You always try to be the strong one and you try to hold everything inside when you do that. It’s not healthy.”
“There’s no need to worry about that, Janice. I can’t even think about being strong right now.” She exhaled. “It’s so hard. Hurts so bad.”
“I know, Mo,” she said, using the nickname she’d given her when they were kids. “I wish I was there so I could hold onto you until all that hurt is gone. You did that for me, remember? Stuck to me like glue when my mama died. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”
Maurine cleared her throat.
“I’ll be all right, Janice. Carla’s here and she’s gonna stay with me.”
“Oh?” She pressed her hand to her face, the mere mention of her name causing a chain of involuntary reactions within. Learning that she was already there, and would be so close by, only intensified those reactions.