Chapter 19

By then the hours had edged on toward suppertime, so I put a hold on furniture inspection for the day, although Helen said she could come again the following day and Mr. Wheeler declared himself available anytime we needed him. For myself, I had hoped to get to Benson’s before it closed to drop off the contents of Mattie’s jewelry drawer, but I didn’t make it. So I locked the bags of jewelry in the trunk of my car, then hurried home for supper, after which I would show up at the hospital to keep Mildred company through the night.

Sam wasn’t at all thrilled with the prospect of my spending the night at the hospital, noting that Mildred was certainly old enough to stay alone. “Not,” he’d added, “that she won’t have half a dozen nurses at her beck and call.”

“I know, but what happened to Mattie in the same situation has her worried.” I stopped, thought about it for a minute, then went on. “Although why she thinks I’d be of use if the Grim Reaper showed up, I don’t know.”

Then Lillian chimed in. “You keep on burnin’ candles at both ends, you be piled up in bed your own self.”

“I know, I know. But there’s a nice recliner in the room, and I intend to get a good night’s sleep on it.”

So Sam drove me to the hospital and waited in the lobby for me to send Ida Lee down so he could drive her home. She was reluctant to leave, but I insisted, mainly because I wanted her rested and in good health to look after Mildred. I’d already decided that one night on the recliner was going to be my limit.

After Ida Lee left and the hospital quieted down for the night, Mildred and I chatted for a while. I asked if she wanted me to try to reach Horace and Tonya.

“Lord, no,” she said. “I don’t want either one hovering around, wringing their hands, and worrying about my estate.”

“Oh, Mildred, they wouldn’t do that.”

“Huh,” she said darkly, “you just wait. You’re just starting on Mattie’s estate, which probably doesn’t amount to a hill of beans, and already you’re having trouble. Think what mine will be like.”

“Well, promise you won’t make me your executor,” I said, as lightly as I could manage with such a serious subject.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do that to you. Anyway, I’ll call them both when I get home, when I feel more like dealing with them.”

“All right, let me know if you change your mind.” Then, to change the subject, I asked her what the doctors were saying about the reason for her fall.

“They don’t know,” she said with a wave of her hand, then went on to tell me of the various tests she’d had during the day and moaned a few times about how hard it was to lose weight, which was what she’d been told a dozen times she needed to do.

“How many walks do you think we’ll have to take for me to lose fifty pounds?” she asked at one point.

“Goodness, Mildred, I don’t know. Maybe you should think about hiring a personal trainer.”

“Well, not if I have to wear a leotard.” We both laughed.

Finally, about eleven o’clock a nurse came in with Mildred’s medication for sleep. At the same time, she found a blanket and a pillow for me, which I was glad to have. I was about on my last legs after the long, busy day I’d had and figured I’d have no trouble falling asleep and staying that way.

Turning off all the lights except a night light, I wished Mildred pleasant dreams and settled in on the recliner, which I quickly learned did not recline in exactly the same places that I did.

Nonetheless, I had just about drifted off when Mildred said, “Julia? You asleep?”

“Almost. What do you need?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to be sure you were here.”

“I’m not going anywhere until daylight, Mildred, so you can rest easy. Nobody’s going to come in here and snatch you away.”

“Well,” she murmured, turning ponderously over in bed, “don’t forget that Mattie got snatched away in the middle of the night.”

“I’m watching out for you,” I assured her, but I’m not sure she heard me. She murmured off and on as the sleep medication began to take effect, and before long, she was deep in the arms of Morpheus, although from the chest-rattling sounds of her breathing, it’s a wonder he didn’t dump her out. I no longer wondered why Horace was sailing on the Mediterranean.

_______

Ida Lee was back in the room by seven the next morning, just as the breakfast trolleys began to roll down the hall, infuriating Mildred, who couldn’t have anything to eat until after a few more tests. I wished her a good day and took myself off to call Sam to come get me.

“Never again, Sam,” I said as I slid into the car when he pulled up in front of the hospital. “Some things are beyond the boundaries of friendship, although of course it wasn’t that bad. It was just that between the recliner that wouldn’t fully recline and Mildred’s snoring, I feel as if I’ve been running all night.”

“Why don’t you take a nap this morning?” he said. “Lillian has made blueberry muffins for you, so get a good breakfast and then lie down.”

“I may just do that.”

But we’d barely walked through the kitchen door before the phone rang, letting me know that LuAnne Conover had taken the bit between her teeth and was about to run wild.

“Julia,” she announced, “I’m reporting in. Almost everything is arranged. The visitation will be tomorrow night at the Good Shepherd Funeral Home, and don’t tell me that’s too soon because it’s already in today’s paper. And the service will be at the church at two o’clock Friday, with the interment immediately afterward. Now, you haven’t seen fit to let me look through Mattie’s clothes, and she needs something to wear for the viewing. I’m going to need to get into her closet, although I’ll tell you here and now that if she doesn’t have anything better to wear than what she usually wore, I’ll have to go shopping.”

“There’s no money for shopping, LuAnne. Besides, there’s no need to buy something new—nobody would recognize her. Let’s just use what she ordinarily wore. I can meet you at the apartment anytime you say and you can pick out something.”

“That’s just not going to do,” LuAnne said. “All she ever wore was black or gray, neither of which is suitable for a funeral. I mean, they are if you’re attending a funeral, but not if you’re the main attraction. She needs to wear something white—it’s her funeral, after all, and I want her to look nice.”

“Well, LuAnne,” I said, “I’m not even sure we should have an open casket, and if we don’t, it won’t matter what she has on.”

“No open casket? Why, why else do people come if not to see how she looks? And it all reflects on me, Julia. People will talk if we have a closed casket. They’ll wonder what happened to her, like, maybe her face is bruised or something. We have to let people look, which reminds me that I’m going to ask Velma to go to the funeral home and fix her hair. I hope there’s money enough for that.”

My eyes rolled back in my head, but I took a deep breath and tried to calm her down. “LuAnne, I’ve just spent the night in the hospital listening to Mildred snore, and I have a blue million other things to do today. I don’t have time for this. The funeral is entirely in your hands—you can do whatever you want to do, but there’s no money for anything extra.”

“Well!” she huffed. “I’ll bet Mattie wishes now that she’d put somebody else in charge, because the visitation will be her last great party, and I know she’ll want to look her best.”

“It’s up to you, LuAnne,” I said, tiredly. “Just don’t send the estate any bills—they won’t get paid. The bequests that Mattie made have to come before anything else, and if it helps to know this, you are on her list.”

There was dead silence on the line. Then, in almost a whisper, LuAnne asked, “She named me as a beneficiary?”

“Yes, along with a number of other women we know and the church as well.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? We certainly do not want to deplete her resources with unneeded outlays, do we? If you can meet me at her apartment right after lunch, I’m sure I can find something in her closet that’ll be entirely suitable.”

_______

After Lillian’s very nice breakfast, I decided to take Sam’s advice and lie down for a while. But not before calling Mr. Sitton to ask if Mattie had a safe-deposit box at one of the banks.

“Yes,” he assured me, “there’s a key to one at the First National. It’s in one of the envelopes I gave you. You’ll need to take a copy of the will so they’ll let you access the box.” He stopped, then said, “I hope you haven’t misplaced the key. If so, we’ll have to have the box drilled.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling backward and totally unprofessional, “I’m sure it’s right where you put it. I should’ve looked more carefully. Frankly, I’ve hardly had time to go through everything.”

But I immediately made time as soon as I hung up, and found the key in an envelope among several other envelopes with various papers in them. I needed to go over every page to be sure I wasn’t overlooking anything else, but, I declare, I was so tired I simply couldn’t face another piece of paper.

“Lillian,” I said, teetering on my feet, “I’ve got to take a nap. If anybody calls or comes by, tell them you don’t know where I am or when I’ll be back.”

She grinned. “That’ll teach you not to spend the night with anybody ’sides Mr. Sam.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. Mildred will have to watch out for the Grim Reaper by herself from now on.”