If someone can give me a ride, I can spend the night with her and stay for however long she needs me,” Amalia said into the phone. She turned off her alarm clock.
“Thank you, Amalia,” Pastor Mike replied. “I’ll be right in. Ginny is sleeping, and this will allow Sam and Erica to go back home.”
“Good, I’ll be packed and meet you at the side. Thanks.” Amalia mopped at her tears again. She knew so well what Ginny was going through, even though her valley had been fifteen years ago when Aaron died. Although it was not unexpected since he was some years older than she, one can never be prepared. And for poor Ginny, there had been no preparation. Amalia dug out her small suitcase, folded in the things she would need for the next few days, and zipped it shut. She made sure her knitting and a couple of other projects were in her bag along with the necessary supplies, and she watered her plants well. Stacking Jehoshaphat’s food dish high, she told him, “I’ll ask Pastor Mike to make certain you’re fed. I’ll give him a key.” Who knew when she might be back? It all depended on how Ginny was doing.
Earlier, she had called a friend in senior services to take over her senior-living-home chores and now, hat on head, she shut the door behind her, making sure the little sign on her door said GONE VISITING, so the woman who checked every door every day would not panic when she hadn’t turned her tag over.
Dear Lord, she prayed, comfort all of us, but especially Ginny and her family. Fred will be sorely missed here on earth but I know You gave him a grand welcome up there. Then she thought, Bet he was surprised to go home so abruptly. Collapsed in the chicken house. I sure do hope it was a swift journey so he didn’t lie there and suffer—all by himself. Somehow I don’t think chickens count.
When Pastor Mike pulled up to the curb, Amalia picked up her bag and case and, heaving a sigh, stepped outside. Automatically she checked her watch. One a.m. Good thing she was not one to sleep heavily or she might have missed the call.
“Thank you for doing this.” Mike held the car door open for her.
“I’m glad I can. My sister did the same for me when Aaron died. But that was a waiting game, not a blindsided surprise, or rather, a shock. Do they know the cause of death?”
“Preliminary suggests a major heart attack that just dropped him.”
“Poor Ginny, yay for Fred.”
“I know. At times like this, if I didn’t believe there is more life after the body dies, I could not—”
“He was your friend too, wasn’t he?”
“Fred was everybody’s friend. If there was any way he could provide help, he did, to whoever needed it. And on top of that, he was just plain fun to be around.”
“I can see and hear the angels and all the saints welcoming him home. What a party!”
“And so we help Ginny and the kids through this.”
“I know. Sure brings back lots of memories. So grateful we lived on the farm and there were so many things that had to be done.…I found that keeping real busy made grieving easier.”
“She depended on him for so much, like he depended on her. What a pair they were.” They rode in silence, except that she asked for someone to look in on the cat. Already that cat was crippling her ability to just go.
Pastor Mike assured her the cat would not pine away. He stopped the car at the path off the driveway. “You want me to carry that in for you?”
Amalia smiled as she scooped up her bag. “No, thanks, you go on home and get the rest you need. Give that wife of yours a howdy from me.”
“I will. She said to tell you, the coffeepot is always on.”
“Thanks.” She shut the door behind her and walked the flagstone path to the patio and sliding glass doors. The upstairs was all dark. She tapped at the door and opened it before Sam could get there. She sniffed. “Is something burning?”
“Not now. Mom had a casserole in the oven, and five hours later, the house was filled with smoke. The guys on the fire truck came up to check it out. Good old smoke alarm did the job.”
“Ginny sleeping?”
“Like a log. I hear so many people say they couldn’t sleep. I think she just crashed.”
“That’s good.” She lifted her case. “Where shall I put this?”
“They said to not use the upstairs until tomorrow when they set up some exhaust fans and the smoke should be cleared. The guest room down here has twin beds. Mom is on one, you take the other.”
“I can sleep on a sofa or wherever.”
“Why, when there is a perfectly good bed?”
“Whatever. Are there any doctor’s orders for her or just take one minute at a time?”
“Eva said to push fluids, so when she wakes up, hand her a glass of water. If there is any change, BP a bit elevated but understandably so, to call for help. You drive, right?”
“Yes, I just opted to no longer have a car since I live right in the middle of town. My driver’s license is still current and I will probably maintain that. Good ID.”
Erica stepped out of the room where Ginny slept. “No change. She’s not running a temp or anything.”
“Okay, you two go on home and hug those twins of yours. They will sorely miss him.”
“As will we all.” Sam shook his head. “I think I’m in about as great a shock as Mom is. And to find him like that. How horrible.” His sigh carried the weight of gallons of tears. “The chicken coop is locked up. I’ll be over in the morning to do the chores.”
“If you need anything, call me.” Erica rubbed her forehead. “I hope the smoke doesn’t bother you. Oh, I put a bottled water by her bed. There are more in the fridge in her office.”
“Thanks. Glad they caught it before the house ignited.”
“I know, me too.” Sam slid open the door and ushered Erica ahead of him. “Night.”
Amalia carried her case into the bedroom and set it on the chair. Spook thumped his tail from where he was stretched out alongside Ginny’s legs. His eyes begged her to leave him there, so she did. She had no idea if this was permissible behavior but too bad. Today was not a permissible day. They’d deal with that later. She changed in the bathroom and, after standing to watch Ginny in a log state, slipped under the covers. The smoke smell was not severe here but she could guess about the upstairs. Oh, well. If the fire department didn’t exhaust the upstairs, they could call one of the cleaning services in the morning to bring out their huge exhaust fans to clear the air. In reality, everything might need to be scrubbed down to free the house from the nose-biting odor. Knowing the horrors ahead of all the paperwork caused by a death, she figured she could run interference for her friend. Fred most likely had all the info in folders in one drawer of the file cabinet or, if there was a safe, some things in there. That was the way Fred did things.
She drifted off with her usual adaptability, waking every time Ginny made a noise. Once she was sobbing in her sleep, but didn’t respond to any questions. At six, Spook wanted to go out, so Amalia slid the glass door open enough for him to leave and come back. Go back to bed or…Back to bed won out, but an insistent phone soon trumped it. Since it was now eight a.m., she grabbed it before it could ring again.
“Morning, Amalia, everything still all right there?” Sam asked.
“Yes, your mother’s still sleeping. What time do you plan to go to the hospital?”
“I just called in that I won’t be at school today so that is next on my list. Eva said there would be papers to sign.”
“There are always papers to sign. Mike is planning on being here about ten unless we call and set a different time. So you want to go to the hospital after that?”
‘That will be fine. By the way, I was over there early and did the chores so you needn’t worry about that.”
“Thanks.” She clicked off the phone.
“Sam?” Ginny’s voice was more croak than talk.
“Yes, he said he did the outside chores early this morning. He’ll come back in time for the meeting with Mike. If you tell me where the dog food is stored, I’ll feed this hungry beast and start some breakfast. You need help getting up?”
“Why? I’m not an invalid.”
“True. Just offering.”
“What if I never want to get up again?”
“Uh-huh, feels that way right now. You have quite a few messages on your phone. You want me to screen them?”
“I don’t know. What I want doesn’t matter.” She paused, the back of one hand across her forehead. “I keep hoping I’ll wake up and this is all a horrid nightmare.”
“If only we could set the clock back.” Amalia rose. “I’m coming, Spook.”
Ginny croaked the instructions. “In the pantry, the tubs are marked. He gets a cup and a half of kibble, add warm water, and let it sit a few minutes before you give it to him. For some strange reason, I cannot make myself move.”
“You can have a few more minutes. Holler if you need anything.” Amalia followed the dog bounding up the stairs. Instead of heading to the kitchen, he tore down the hall into their bedroom and came out, head and tail down.
Amalia felt herself tear up. “You were hoping to find him, weren’t you, fella? I’m sorry. Come on, let’s find you some kind of treat. Peeuw, it stinks up here.”
Spook made another round of checking every room and returned to wait by her side. When she set his dish on the floor, he ate some, made another round of the upstairs to check for Fred, finished his breakfast, and went to stand at the door to the garage. She watched when she let him out. He put his front feet on the car door, looked inside, did the same thing with the truck, and stood sniffing the air.
Despair radiated off him in waves as he lay down on the concrete apron.
“Yeah, I know just how you feel.” Amalia descended into the daylit basement and asked Ginny, “What would you like for breakfast?”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ginny shook her head. Slowly, as if even that took more energy than she had. “I’m not hungry.”
“I know. That’s not what I asked you. How about toast with cheese on it? Get some protein in you, or I will fix eggs any way you want them.”
“If I eat, I think I will throw up.”
“Toast then. Coffee?”
“Fred wants his coffee first thing. He would have set the coffeemaker on the timer.” Tears started again, her whole body drooping. She sniffed and reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand between the beds.
“A shower might help you feel better.”
“No. I’ll go upstairs and get dressed.”
“Your clothes will probably smell of smoke.”
“Who cares?”
“Who do you have your homeowner’s with?”
“Why?”
“Smoke cleanup is covered under most homeowner’s insurance policies. Either Sam or I can call them and get the cleaning process started.”
“I don’t remember who I have. What a dumb move that was.”
Amalia decided to ignore that comment. “Does Sam know?”
“I suppose.” She levered herself upright and stood for a moment.
“You dizzy?”
“Just for a second. I always stand and wait like that for my balance to catch up with me. PT taught me to do that.”
Habit can be a good thing. “I am going up to scramble some eggs. Maybe you could eat a few bites. I’ll make the coffee too, just in case. Unless you’d rather have tea.”
She heard Spook at the door and went to let him in on her way upstairs. Her phone, set on vibrate in her pocket, caught her attention. “Good morning.”
It was MJ. “How is she?”
“Up and getting dressed. Sam will be here any time. Mike is coming at ten.”
“Can we bring you anything?”
“Not that I know of. Going to try to get her to eat a bit.”
“How bad is the smoke?”
“Air is clear but the odor needs cleaning, I’m afraid. I need to take care of that. I’ll get the insurance called to start as soon as possible. I’m sure everything needs to be scrubbed down or commercially cleaned.”
“Did she sleep?”
“Didn’t want to wake up.”
“Don’t blame her. I think we are all in a state of shock. How will we handle all the food that people will want to bring if you can’t use the upstairs?”
“No idea. Hadn’t thought about it. Let me know if you come up with a plan.” She smiled as she said it. MJ always had a way to do things. “Talk later. Thanks.” She clicked off.
Ginny’s phone chimed again. Amalia let it go to voice mail. She was tempted to turn it off. She’d see what Sam wanted to do.
Upstairs she ignored the stink and set about fixing breakfast. When she didn’t hear any activity, she went down the hall to the master bedroom. Ginny was half dressed and lying on the bed.
“You need some help?”
“Can you bring Fred back?”
“Sorry, my friend, sure wish I could.”
“I know. Stinks in here.”
Amalia picked up the blouse Ginny had pulled off the hanger. “Here, stick your arm in.” Ginny did as told, but when it came to buttoning, her hands stayed braced against the comforter. Amalia buttoned the shirt, put shoes in front of her feet. “Slide your foot in those, then go wash your face and brush your teeth, comb your hair.”
The tears dripped off Ginny’s chin.
Amalia took a couple of tissues and mopped her friend’s face. She picked up her hand and pulled her upright, then steered her to the master bath. “Can you manage? I can comb your hair and wash your face but you have to brush your own teeth. Oh, my dear friend. I know everything feels like too much. We’ll get you through today and then one day at a time.”
Ginny propped herself, arms rigid on the sink counter, her head hanging. She sucked in a deep breath and, being careful not to look in the mirror, got out the toothpaste and brush.
From below came, “Mom?”
“Sam’s here.”
She nodded and started brushing.
Amalia reminded her, “You need help, I’m in the kitchen.”
Another nod. The tears continued to drip.